Chapter 1: Preface - The Castlevania Timeline for Dummies
Chapter Text
Castlevania is a series near and dear to my heart. It is drenched in heavy mythology and has a defined story and timeline, even though it's bare bones for the most part. I would argue that's what makes it fun. Filling in the blanks with context clues and coming up with your own conclusions based on the few facts you're given. In a sense, that is exactly what Warren Ellis did with Castlevania III Dracula's Curse and Symphony of the Night. He took two very straightforward stories and married the two to create what so far is looking to be a the single greatest videogame adaptation ever to another form of media. (Pen here from many years in future to offer Fallout as a contender) I am eager to write a story or two of the Animated Series, but I think I will wait to see Season 2 to get a feel how how different or the same Ellis' writing takes the series. I'm in love with Drunk Trevor Belmont, but I'll always have a soft spot for 20 year old punch first and ask questions later videogame Trevor.
This story is based more heavily on the games, though I'll be incorporating some elements from the show that can fit. I'm so glad the show has drawn in new fans that have no experience with the games, because they are not action-adventure rpg types of gamers, or because they are too young to know much about the long dead franchise... Lords of Shadow doesn't count to me but I'm being a snob, no doubt. Anyway, I thought I would just give a teeny tiny overview of the games and the Castlevania timeline pertinent to them so anybody willing to give a story about the games a chance despite not knowing the source material very well an easy way to follow along. If you are reading this, thank you very much for your willingness to give me a chance, and I hope you might be interested enough to try the games.
The Timeline – This is not complete, it is only which games and characters will be mentioned/referenced in this story
1094 AD – Lament of Innocence
This is the first game in the original series chronologically. Leon Belmont, a high ranking general of sorts in the Crusades leaves his post to rescue his stolen fiance from the clutches of a Vampyre named Walter Bernhard. His friend and a strategist in the holy Crusade, Mathias Cronqvist, is the one who gives Leon the intel, so off Leon goes to defeat the Vampyre. Leon slays Walter and from him takes two stones that the recently vanquished Vampyre used to amplify his power and keep the Castle forever in moonlight. In the end, Mathias appears and takes the stones from Leon. Mathias' beloved wife Elizabetha died from an illness at the start of the game and he is furious with a God and a world that would take her from him. Mathias uses the stones powers to become an immortal Vampyre himself, so he can spend eternity defying the heavens and exacting his rage. He goes on to lose his human name and later becomes known as Dracula. But he leaves his old friend alive, perhaps out of a fleeting mercy and gratitude for Leon's action bringing Mathias to his goal. Which probably wasn't a great decision on his part given the rest of the timeline. There's also a crazy Vampyre named Joachim Armster in it who steals the show.
1450 AD – Castlevania Legends
This game was ret-conned from the continuity by IGA because it wasn't believable that a woman in the 15th century could be a great warrior/Vampyre hunter. And to that I poo-poo you, sir. Legends stars Trevor Belmont's mother Sonia Belmont, who is aided/annoyed by Alucard, though you don't play as the Scion of Dracula himself proper. The Dhampyre just gives you vague exposition and angst. It is obvious that Sonia and Alucard have feelings for each other and in the end she has a baby, yet nobody can say with any certainty who the father is. Alucard in this nixed game canon is implied to be the baby-daddy, but for the interest of this particular Trevor/Adrian ship, we're going to ignore that. The Sonia/Alucard baby making. Game-canon wise though, I actually kind of liked the idea of Belmont's having a little Țepeș in them. Makes their duty seem even more like a family affair.
1476 AD – Castlevania 3 Dracula's Curse
The people of Wallachia and the Romanian church having been terrified of Sonia Belmont's power and probably her uterus excommunicate and banish the Belmont family from the country. Dracula has been growing in power and the very land they walk upon has starting to rot and die from his curse. The church sends a bunch of priests to the castle in hopes of eradicating the demons and purifying the rot. This party includes one Sypha Belnades, hiding away in the church as a boy because she's a witch and we all know what happened to witches in them old timey times. Sypha's party is attacked by a cyclops well before reaching the Castle gates and they are all killed, save Sypha, who is turned to stone for really... We don't know how many years the poor girl was a living statue. Since that failed, the church then sends a group of warriors from the remaining noble families to the Castle, with one Grant Danasty in tow. They all die but Grant, who is changed into a beast that Trevor must later defeat to break the curse upon. Now rightly fucked and out of ideas, the Church reaches out to the exiled Belmonts and offers them acceptance back home if they do that thing they do so well. Trevor Belmont, just a wee lad of 20 wanting to restore his family's honour agrees. He rescues and teams up with Sypha and Grant, and along the way they find an old tomb in a creepy cave where the son of Dracula has been hiding from dear old dad for again... We're not sure how long. But the cave is falling apart, so probably a while. Together they defeat Dracula.
1479 AD – Castlevania Curse of Darkness
Three years after the defeat of Dracula, Trevor has settled back into town with Sypha as an implied wife, but it's never explicitly stated. Some future Belmonts did display magical powers ( Juste, for example) so it's pretty much a guarentee they did have at least one child together. The land is still being poisoned and monsters are still roaming. This is because one of two Devil Forgemasters serving Dracula, Isaac, is on a warpath to bring his master back to life. You don't control Trevor in this game, but the other Devil Forgemaster Hector. Who is like Prince and Cher, and has no last name. Trevor accuses poor Hector who was trying to change his fate and live a kinder life of being the one resurrecting Dracula, and attacks our sweet-hearted baby. Later through the game, Trevor does agree it's probably all the crazy red-head's fault and helps Hector out while also insisting he stay out of the Vampyre Hunter's way because TREVOR SMASH. This design and personality is the Trevor of the games that you will see in most media of him, including the pachislot games in Japan. He's pretty sexy in that long coat so I don't mind. He's 23 by this point and he acts like it. All the confidence of youth but at least he's got the stuff to back it up. Trevor's blood is used by Isaac- who lovingly kisses him after a backstabbing – to open a way to the heart of the castle and revive Dracula. Hector is able to stop the resurrection before it is complete and Dracula has anywhere near the power or corporealness neccessitating that only a Belmont could take him down, and while we're told that Trevor was recovering from the sexual assault/backstabbing with Isaac's sister, we never hear from or see him again. Some frustrating time-traveler prophet called St. Germaine also appears to foretell the great battle of 1999. Where Dracula will finally be defeated for real real.
1797 AD – Castlevania Symphony of the Night
This is where the animated series lifted the backstory of Alucard, though they put Symphony's backstory and Dracula's Curse as connected events. And in a way they are, in an X-Files Myth Arc sort of fashion. I should mention that in Castlevania lore, the Bram Stoker novel Dracula is canon. Mina Harker really was the reincarnation of Dracula's old love - Elizabetha as established in Lament of Innocence - and that's why he was so focused on having her return to him. It seems that Alucard's mother Lisa was also an incarnation of Dracula's love, Elizabetha. Lisa was adored by the count and her death was a catalyst for even greater atrocities. Which really, can you blame the guy? He'd lost the love of his life twice by this point. Alucard, after having helped Trevor defeat his father, felt truly guilty for his actions as he did love his father and wished that Dracula could have taken his dying mother's words to heart; To love mankind. Thinking that Dracula's defeat was a permanent thing, the Prince thought it would be best if a creature such as himself did not walk the land, like some grim reminder of the sins of the past. He awakens centuries later when he feels the Castle back in reality and he senses there are no Belmonts on their way to take care of it. Because Richter Belmont has been possessed. So it seems it's once again up to Alucard to take care of business.
1999 AD – Demon Castle Wars
We never play this, and it's probably just as well as imagining what went down is probably more awesome than a Metroidvania could supply. What is known to occur is that in the year 1999, as foretold by St. Germaine, a 30 year old Julius Belmont takes ownership of the Vampire Killer back from the Morris Family (The very same Morris' of the Bram Stoker novel and Bloodline/Portrait of Ruin games) and finally defeats Dracula in a epic battle that leaves him an amnesiac for another 30 years.
2035 AD – Castlevania Aria of Sorrow
Dracula's spirit was freed from it's eternal torment and rage by Julius and reborn as an ordinary high school student Soma Cruz so that Mathias Cronqvist could finally live and die a normal life like he was meant to. In some cosmic mercy, Elizabetha/Lisa/Mina Harker has also been given a new lease on life as Mina Hakuba, an ordinary high school student who lives in an ancient shrine. They're friends, but totally not dating you guys. Totally. Some douche named Graham Jones thinks he should be the new Dracula but there's this pesky little problem with Mathias' soul being mortal and umm... Currently residing inside Soma. During a magickal eclipse Graham traps Mina and Soma in the Castle hoping to get all the right pieces in one place for him to assume Drac's reign of terror. Sucked into the Eclipse Castle is also Alucard (poorly disguised as Genya Arikado), Yoko Belnades (here for fan service), J(ulius Belmont) and a friendly weapons dealer Hammer, all along for the ride.
2036 AD – Castlevania Dawn of Sorrow
Honestly, I don't know why this game exists as it's plot is a rehash of Aria. An evil cultest lady Celia Fortner wants to restore Dracula's soul and the Castle in a slavish way the Silent Hill cult keep trying to resurrect their god. This time around searching for a suitable Dracula replacement, Celia's found two possible candidates to take Soma's soul from him. All the same players from last game are in place, and Soma must venture though the castle to rescue Mina and use her love to overcome his evil. There is only one justification for Dawn of Sorrow to exist (beyond just wanting more Aria) and that is if you get the bad ending where Soma is overtaken by his darkness you unlock Julius Mode, and get to play Julius – as Trevor, Yoko – as Sypha and Alucard... as Alucard. They must venture into the palace after Soma's failure to put the revived Dracula to rest. There is code in the game that hints once upon a time in early development Hammer may have been playable, and may have taken on Grant's role to complete the throw-back to Dracula's Curse, but poor Grant never gets any love. Even you, Animated series. Even you.
And that's about it for the timelines and people that will be mentioned in this story. If you made it all the way through here... Welcome to the finish line. I thank you for your patience.
If any of this has piqued your interest in the source material, and if for anybody's interested in the games and looking for a few suggestions I'll list my faves here in no particular order:
- Castlevania 3 Dracula's Curse
- Castlevania Curse of Darkness
- Castlevania Circle of the Moon
- Castlevania Symphony of the Night
- Castlevania Portrait of Ruin
And finally, for anybody looking for a challenge when playing these games, I suggest:
- Castlevania 3 Dracula's Curse – because the stairs will kill you.
- Castlevania Circle of the Moon – because you're dependent on only your mad skills and RNG drops
- Castlevania Order of Ecclesia – because I don't know why, I just know I have never died more in a single game in my life before this one.
- Castlevania Chronicles – It's just plain challenging, designed for lovers of the Classicvanias
Once again, thank you for giving me a moment of your time!
Chapter 2: Chapter 1 - Cruel Miracle
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June 2037 ~ Aokigahara Jukai
“-and besides, I shouted quite clearly 'Eat my Fireballs' before I fed them fireballs. You should have moved!” Huffed the slender unrepentant Mage, faux exasperation hardly keeping her rouged lips from curling, almost cruel in their delight. “Oh quit that face you're making. What, have you never been dirty before?”
“That's... quite the stench.” Affirmed the elder Hunter, letting out a long whistle. “You'd think the flames would have helped dry up some of the more noxious... Juices.”
The Dhampyre, who was certainly not making any kind of 'face' despite what the Mage thought, clung to his stone mask and drew in a long steady breath to calm himself. Which brought about an immediate regret upon overwhelming his senses with the stench of rotten corpse and charred flesh. Their resident mage took note of his eye twitch, subsequently once more curling her lips viciously. “I cannot help but suspect you've done this on purpose.” He spoke dryly. The.. wet explosion of undead bodies, their pent up gasses ignited by unnatural flames, had too perfectly sprayed in his and only his direction.
“Nonsense.” The woman lied through her teeth. “Julius got out of the way. You must have been too slow.”
“I do like to avoid fireballs. And corpse juice.” The Hunter added, arms spread wide as if he was apologizing.
“You were right beside me the whole time.” He shot back at the apparent co-conspirator before he managed to to slip his stony expression back into place. In all his past experiences with this particular ancient clan of mages, Alucard had learned one glaring and indisputable truth, and that was Belnades sorceresses did nothing with their arcane talents they did not wish to do. The brat.
“I'm just lucky that way.” Julius offered in reply. A lame and hollow excuse. “It will wash out. Learn to laugh at yourself, Alucard. A little humbling and embarrassment might do you some good. Act a little human for a change.”
“Smile, maybe?” Yoko added, taking the lead through the mossy stone-cut crypt door before them. The shadows swallowed her small frame quickly but her mirth-filled voice carried out. “It's okay to have fun once in a while. We've all earned it.”
Julius was quick to follow the mage into the dark while the Dhampyre narrowed his yellow eyes at both of them, burning holes through the backs of their collective skulls, elder gods willing. “I will smile plenty later. It will be a great pleasure on the long ride back.” He stated simply. “As you both suffer this stench. I believe I will drive slow.”
From halfway down the crypt stairwell he heard varying groans and muttered complaints. The traitorous pranksters evidently had not fully thought out the consequences of their actions.
With a sigh he shadowed the two silently into the crypt his mind already back to the task at hand. The undead aside, nothing about this time forgotten burial site gave the appearance of a haven for a cult of witches keen of performing black sacraments. It was still and quiet, the dust settled as if it hadn't been disturbed in centuries. However, his information had come straight from trustworthy sisters of the occult, and delivered from the Lost Commune beyond the Baljhet Mountains of his homeland on the lips of a frequently feral, but competent Vampyre. If Joachim told of atrocities being committed deep withing the 'Sea of Trees', then it was prudent to look. It was important to always remember that his father, despite popular belief, was not the source of evil in this world. Dracula had merely been it's harbinger and greatest champion for a long millennia. The Castle itself was a place from out of time and space, living and breathing as no creature in this realm could ever truly understand, but it too was not the source of evil. It was a tool, a beast even, but one with no Master now. As long as the Castle ghosted this mortal reality it would always draw out those who would seek to claim it, and it was the duality of man and his hubris that ensured there would always be those seeking. A forgotten place such as this crypt was not a bad choice to conjure up the power to reach beyond the veil, to summon and take control of that deadly tool.
Venturing deeper, the murk was heavy and the air humid stagnation. Every breath was gulped as his yellow eyes aided his descent into the dark. Yoko and Julius moved cautiously not too far ahead as their eyes no doubt were still adjusting. Fortunately the moist walls of the crypt bounced enough ambient lights for the two to make out the pathway ahead. They proceeded at the human's pace in silence through the twists and turns until Yoko stopped them. Neither Julius nor he thought to question her judgment, and gave the Mage the time she needed to gently pick apart woven traps of magick. The Hunter made a barely audible noise of displeasure. Traps meant there was something to hide. And in places like this that something was never pleasant. They moved when Yoko did, weapons drawn. After three more stops of increasing length for Yoko to disarm magickal barriers and alarms without alerting the caster who'd set them, the narrow path ahead of them flickered with candlelight. A hushed murmur of chants carried on the thick air from an open cavern ahead. The smell of fresh blood carried as well. Unwilling blood, he was certain. He could smell the lingering fear.
He shifted his form into that of a bat and let leathery wings take him silently into the hollowed out chamber. The dome shaped room was lined with fresh corpses, posed in various forms of prostration, symbols having been carved into every inch of their naked flesh. Their outstretched arms reached for the large dais in the north of the room where a coven of thirty-nine witches painted the dais and each other with matching symbols from vats of freshly drawn blood. No great leap of imagination required to discern where it had come from. The head priestess stood above a prone body upon her alter, bloody hand and athame raised high, her head upturned to the night sky hidden by stone. Upon a table of supplies a clock one of the witches had brought chimed twice. The coven's preparations hurried. The Witching hour was soon to be upon them, and a blood ritual this elaborate required no less than a perfect execution.
Carefully he alighted down upon a stalagmite to peer at the head priestess and her special sacrifice. A long haired man lay with jaw slack, the veins in both forearms and the femoral arteries sliced clean open. The alter was a still pool of the mans blood. The use of only one man for such a blood sacrament was telling for he must have been of high ranking cloth, or blessed in some other form. Regardless, the man was dead now. The only kindness he could give these poor sacrifices was the assurance their bodies would not be desecrated further. Yellow eyes peered at the priestess intently, contemplating how best to strike.
“What is that foul smell?” The closest witch cursed, startling all around.
“Corpses” Another snapped, attempting to hush her. “Now is not the time to lose focus.”
“They can't be rotting already.” The first witch insisted her eyes rising to follow the source of the smell. She reared back sharply when her eyes settled on the large bat. “It's that!”
With the exclamation, thirty-nine witches turned their sights on Alucard, and the Dhampyre sighed inwardly. Those two pranksters really should have thought out the consequences of their questionable 'fun'. He debated his actions. Reveal himself? Continue to perch and stink up the room as a distraction while Yoko and Julius used the chance to take strategic places in the open chamber?
“That is a Vampyre.” Intoned the head priestess, which sent a wave of worried whispers through the coven. The raven haired woman kept her arms outstretched as she studied him, unnatural green eyes seeing passed his beastly form to his supernatural essence. She wore nothing but a sheer robe which given her stance hid nothing, and which he found drew his attention far more than it should. That curious attraction in itself was telling. Vampyres and Dhampyres to some extent were more or less immune to the charms some demons employed, as they were also creatures of desire and seduction when they chose. For this woman's beguiling aura to affect him, however little, made it clear she was not just a hedgemage in over her head. “Have you come to bear witness to our success, Vampyre? Or perhaps you've come to snatch that success from our hands? We've thirteen witches for each form of our goddess. A triad of such power would not be so easy to prevail against, even for one such as yourself.”
As the witches were falling back into little circles, ancient combat positions for sure, his hand was forced. He returned to his form, sword in hand, and vaulted high above the crowd with his eyes set on the high priestess. When battling an army large or small, it was always easiest to remove the head. It made the underlings less eager to lay down their lives, and besides, she was just too much of an enigma to let go. His attack was parried with unnatural speed even when taking into consideration a lifetime study of the dark arts. Growing curious, he lashed out again and again, driving the priestess back whilst all around them Yoko rained shards of ice upon the coven. The priestess swayed much too easily between his blade and he soon realized she was not being driven, but baiting, and he had followed her right to where she wanted him.
The prostrating corpses all around them begun to stir. Their heads grew swollen, their ears stretching out to what would be comical proportions were it not so sickening to behold. Lacking ceremony, talons slashed free of the necks binding them as the swollen heads took flight. Decapitated, razor taloned heads. Flying. By their ears. It was pure comedy. Horrid, sickening comedy. The Dhampyre was swarmed, forced to use his heavy cloak and coat as a shield against the claws tearing at him. It took an embarrassing amount of time to gather himself for a proper counterattack but he managed a wide arcing strike with his blade to clear a temporary escape route, which he used to round back and skewer several more of the offending creatures. He took no pleasure in their destruction. Only minutes before these perversions of flesh had been slain innocents.
In the aftermath he quickly surveyed the carnage around him deftly handled by the Hunter and Mage and found the high priestesses body not among the fallen. Certain Julius and Yoko had things under control he raced back through the narrow passageway and out into the trees. Again his body took form of a large bat and he lifted above the Sea of Trees in widening circles searching for his prey. She could be found nowhere. Wanting to be thorough he circled a few more times to be sure before returning to the crypt entrance. Hopefully the forest's other namesake the 'Suicide Forest' would hold true for this one. One capable of such disregard and waste of human life deserved far worse than to be strung up by her neck lost in these shadowy woods.
He hurried back into the abyss only to find there was no need for his haste. Exhausted and singed here and there by witch-fire, Yoko and Julius stood somberly victorious over the slain women. Such a waste of human life all around this night. At the very least the ritual had been stopped. The how and why that a group so large could come this close to successfully opening a rift with such power, and at the cost of so much human suffering, without being detected beforehand, was a concern for the drive home. The here and now required a funeral right for the dead, and a cleansing fire. Without a word the trio began to pile bodies as respectfully as they could. Witch or victim, in the end they had all met tragic deaths, and death was not discriminatory. He helped Yoko with the last of the strewn bodies as Julius ascended the dais to retrieve the main sacrifice of the night. As Alucard moved to assist Julius lay the last corpse upon the pile... Something struck him, like a cold silver blade sliding into his heart. He froze staring at the naked body, mind not yet caught up to the response his body was giving.
Trembling uncontrollably for not yet certain reasons, he tore the mans body from out Julius' grasp. The shape of the mans limbs, however diminished from memory, invited him to caress them, and he did so ignoring the choked shock from his companions. Panic was clawing it's way up from the base of his spine as he reached an unsteady hand out to brush the hair from the man's face. For as blank as his mind tried to remain, his body knew what he would find. The smell was the same. The touch was the same. It was an impossibility. A cruel punchline to a joke set up six hundred years ago. Unable to stop himself, he cradled the man's head as he brushed aside the warm brown locks. The colour of roasted chestnuts, he corrected himself, caressing the perpetually unkempt mop. The visage revealed... Was unchanged. The scar carved into the flesh that barely avoided his left eye was as perfectly beautiful as when Alucard's own clawed hands had helped create it. The cheekbones were just as high and refined as they were in his memory. The jaw just as sharp and the angle of the tendons in his neck just as inviting. Whatever cruel apparition this was, it was a perfect one, plucked right from out Alucard's hardened heart.
“This is impossible.” He whispered in hopes the words would break the spell. Conviction in the truth shattered illusions time and time again. In his arms, his fallen friend remained. “This cannot be.”
“You know him.” Julius surmised, earnest sympathy in his voice. “I am deeply sorry, Alucard.”
Yoko placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. “We will bury your friend properly.” She promised.
“But this... No. How is he here?” His voice hitched, seeking a reply from a still form that refused to answer. There was no logic to this. No explanation that would suffice. “Why are you here?” He clutched at the figure in his arms, willing it to open it's eyes and bring reality back to order. “This makes no sense, damn you... After all this time? Why here, why now? How? This is impossible and just so... Cruel.”
“Alucard...” Yoko faltered as his trembling grew into choked weeping. “I've never seen you...”
Julius crouched down in an attempt to meet his eyes but he only curled more tightly into the limp body to avoid the Hunter's gaze. For a long while nobody moved, and the only sounds were of his choked, bewildered mourning. But in time Julius attempted once more to meet his eyes. “I am truly sorry for your grief., but you know as well as I that cleansing this place is a priority.” The Hunter spoke poignantly. “We must do what we can for the others that have perished this night as well lest they be damned to haunt and curse the earth here. Would you like me to carry him outside for you?”
“Don't touch him!” He hissed pulling back from the Hunter's open arms. His retreat halted much sooner than intended as the terrible lightness of the man in his arms paradoxically weighed him down. As memory served, the brunette had always been on the slighter side, but had never been so delicate as his body felt right now before. Then again, this body had always held life when he'd put his arms around it. It had never been... But this made no logical sense. “No.” He scolded himself, forcing reason. Whatever this appeared to be could not be. The man he mistook this one for went missing six centuries before. And even if he hadn't died three years after their journey together, even if he had simply wanted to vanish and died at a ripe old age in a foreign country, that man would be nothing but dust and bones by this point. This body was freshly killed. The smell of fear, regret and resignation still clung strongly to it. The familiar scent... like the familiar face... It had to just be a coincidence. His recollection of the man must have grown muddled over the passing centuries, and this similar stranger's features had just conveniently replaced the gaps of his memory. He raised his eyes to meet Julius' and almost offered the body up to the pile. “We can burn him with the others.” His strained voice was unrecognizable. “I must be... mistaken.”
“You're... certain?”
In the background the forgotten clock struck three. The Witching hour was upon them.
“I...” He spared one last lingering look at the man in his arms. He had never gotten his chance to say goodbye.
GONG
Perhaps this tragic doppelganger was a kindness from a power beyond his understanding.
GONG
Perhaps this was a sign that it was time to stop mourning this particular passing, in spite that grief and devotion to the vision that warm personality had inspired had become Alucard's entire identity.
GONG
The corpse in his arms gasped in a pained ragged breath. And then another. And another.
Adrenaline high, he dropped to the ground in order to better cradle the struggling thing, ignoring the surprised outbursts around him. Instead he focused on the fluttering eyelids, trying to get a glimpse of the coloured irises they hid. The struggling gasps continued to rasp out until finally the brunette opened his eyes. His heavenly, cobalt eyes. The colour of freshly forged and cooled steel. The only shade of blue-grey Alucard found more stunning than any jewel. They flitted about unfocused at first but Alucard didn't care. If this was an illusion or some well conceived personalized trap, he didn't give a damn about the reason or the consequences. The feel of the flesh, the colour of the hair, the face, the eyes... It was impossible to be truth but too perfect to be a lie. It could not be replicated. His anguish washed away in the torrent of so many things. Joy, relief, disbelief, heartache, guilt, comfort, affection, longing, and desire. Hundreds of nuanced combinations he could never put name to bubbled up unbidden, but nothing could remove the smile from his lips. Nothing could take his eyes off those pretty grey-blue ones. And when those eyes finally locked on his own, recognition clear in them, he wept again. A miracle... It was an impossible miracle.
Pale lips parted and though the oft self-assured to the point of arrogance voice he would have begged to hear was no more than a faint expel of air, he heard the name whispered as clear as day.
“Yes.” He laughed and cried at the same time. “Yes, it's me.”
Those sweet lips parted again, but the pretty steel jeweled eyes were fluttering shut, and his breathing was growing slower. Not the weak laboured breath of before... Simply the sound of oncoming inescapable deep sleep. He struggled valiantly against it however, intent on speaking to the Dhampyre, and Alucard adored him for the effort.
“Hush, it's all right. I will protect you.” He soothed in archaic Romanian. “Close your eyes... No one will ever take you from me again.”
Just in that moment before sleep finally won out, he thought he'd seen betrayal in those beautiful blue eyes.
Chapter 3: Dracula's Curse
Chapter Text
October 1476 ~ A Cave East the Sunken City of Poltergeists
Anachronistic machinery, beguilingly ancient and rusting, carried the vibrations of outsiders to his place of rest along copper pipes and gears. Steam hissed alarm as cogs quickened and soon a symphony of metal echoed throughout the once secret chamber of a once forgotten cave. Pulley systems after years of rest groaned ominously as they raised the coffin concealing the sleeping prince, yet unlike the eagerness the tiny mechanisms displayed as they released locks and pulled back the lid, the Dhampyre inside recoiled. It was too soon to have been discovered. His body was still weak from the wounds he'd suffered years back, many of the spells he'd once relied upon now out of his grasp. Inspired by the selfless courage of one as reviled as himself and honed by the wishes of the dearly departed, as a fool he had taken a stance against one he knew he could not overcome. In an effort to honour her memory and protect that selfless angel, he had denied Dracula's right to this endless crusade to his face, and it had near cost him his life. As current events had yet to unfold, he still may yet pay that price. No one stood between Dracula and his revenge. Not even the demon's own son.
So be it.
What other option was left but to accept this possibility? He'd known what it meant when he chose his fate, but the fight, even now and in such a diminished state, was not out of him yet. Alucard used what little energy he'd recuperated in this abandoned place to mask his true form and levitate from the elegant sarcophagus. If the intruders were nothing more than lessor demons than perhaps the glamour could fool them. The changing of his features is a simple illusion to uphold, the levitating on the other hand... It is a feat as a Dhampyre he cannot maintain, and it is nothing more than brash showmanship. Pomp and circumstance displayed in an effort to appear less vulnerable than he truly was. Old wounds ached mercilessly. His limbs found heavy and stiff. And he's hungry. Starved. Sired by Dracula or not, the demons and creatures under his father's sway have always cannibalized the weakest amongst themselves. Their prince in such a pitiful state would be just another easy meal, marked as he was now for death. But it is not his father's creatures that have come to disturb his rest and finish what the great Vampyre had reduced him to, but three impossibly foolish humans. And as he studies them in their stunned, wary silence, he concludes that these three wretches are not much better off than he.
The three comprise of a hunched, scrawny, middle aged man with eyes as sharp as the daggers he holds, the constant shift of his body suggesting he was prepared to spring into action given the slightest provocation. It was a wise state to be in given the location. To the man's left stood a diminutive young mage or scholar of some faction given the filthy yet priestly robes he was swathed in, whose scent was rife with fear but notes of grim unabating determination. The younger ones were always so tenacious. The last to bumble unannounced into his hidden crypt is yet another young boy in varying layers of leather and steel beneath a matching overcoat, padded armour vest strapped with daggers and vials, and gloved hands on the hilt of a whip that has begun to give off a faint light. This last one too smells of dogged determination. With a small toss of the head to clear long brown hair from his field of vision, the boy steps closer as if challenging, commanding his attention, and whether it was overconfidence or a foolish ploy to protect his companions is uncertain, but the long haired boy is now Alucard's sole focus. The other two were injured, the scent of blood and the beginning of infection rife, their clothing torn and filthy, bone weary exhaustion pulling their shoulders into a slunch. Coupled with starvation draining the colour from their gaunt faces, their bodies tremor beyond their control. Poor pitiful things that they were needed food, bed rest, and to clean their wounds. The young boy meeting his gaze was in no better condition. The hand on his luminescent whip trembled, giving away his weakened state. His commanding show was nothing more than that. A show. Like the Dhampyre's. It was commendable in it's own futile way.
The long haired brunette held fast, waiting for the Dhampyre to make his move. Weak as they were, he may have been able to dispose of them, however a fleeting touch of humanity came over him as he gazed back into eyes the colour of fresh snow in the shade of a tree on a clear morning. Eyes such a unique blue hue that should he survive this encounter he would remember for all his days. Beauty was so rare in these dark times, and the time to appreciate it far rarer. Even if he hadn't chosen to honour her last, dying request, he believed he wouldn't have had it in himself to snuff the life and the beauty from this unique brunette. A pity their meeting was now and not decades ago, where in his father's castle the brunette could have been plied with wine and exotic fruits and the music of grand symphonies to model for the Court Artist. A little more wine, this one warm and spiced, and perhaps he'd have been convinced to pose nude for some personal sketches for the prince. Then head swimming and body pliant, he wouldn't mind the Dhampyre falling over him to drink his essence right up. Those were happier days indeed... But they were meeting in the here and now, and this grim reality held no place for his wistful fancies. Still, the passing idealized fantasy had softened him somewhat, instilling a deeper mercy than he may have given moments before. Instead of force, he chose to give them words. A chance to turn away from this cursed place before it was theirs or his undoing.
“You've come quite far into this dangerous place.” He began in a low voice, gravely from disuse. “The swamps here breed beasts and disease alike. This very cave is home to far worse than even the swamps, however. I regret to inform you that there are no treasures to be found here, humans. Only more beasts, more disease and death.” He made a sweeping gesture to show he spoke to all of them whilst he fixed those blue eyes with his own. If there was a religion he could subscribe to, surely he'd find it in those heavenly eyes given enough time. “You are tired and injured, and this is no place to be when you fall ill. This is only a grave, just as the land above our heads is. You should leave before your names become etched into the stone.”
“A lecture? Then, if you are not the gatekeeper here, Vampyre, we shall take your advice.” The long haired boy answered swiftly in a voice brimming with strength his trembling body could not possibly possess. “But we go that way.”
The Dhampyre didn't need to look where the boy pointed to know he spoke of the pathway to the sunken city. The younger ones were always so damnably tenacious. Suicidal with confidence. “Then you're even more a fool than I suspect. Do you know where that leads, child?”
“More lectures. Are you going to stop me?” The boy asked, ignoring the insult, hand firmly gripping his whip now. He offered no explanation for his suicide march even though the Dhampyre gave him the time to.
Perhaps the humans truly did not know where the path took them. The mere fact of the matter was, they were already well and good in a place no human should be. Perhaps they were attacked and lost their way. There were enough beasts about and it would explain their presence and their horrid physical state. Perhaps they only needed to be educated on their fool's errand. “Beyond is the ruins of one of the great cities destroyed by Dracula's night hoards. The city itself was pulled into the depths of the earth where it now rests, submerged in the underground lake. The very same underground lake that serves as the spawning grounds for mermen. The taint in the water permeates the dead of both man and monster and makes them rise as untiring bone abominations. The very creature that sunk the city still roams, feeding on the anguished souls of the departed trapped there. That is what lay beyond this chamber on your chosen path. Better you return to your people on the path you know and came from. As I've said, this is no place for you to be.”
“You are stopping me.” It was not a question.
In the peripheral of his vision he could see the boy's two companions shift in their stances. So they anticipated an attack did they? In spite of his best effort it did seem near unavoidable at this rate. But still, he tried to make them see reason. She would have wanted him to try. “I understand your existence is harsh, child. You live short fearful lives full of disease and in these days, famine. You're at the mercy of forces greater than yourselves and yet you still waste time fighting amongst yourselves. Your God does not hear your prayers, and you suffer tremendously for it. I know your anguish.” As he continued to speak, he hoped his voice carried even a shred of the compassion as hers always had. Maybe her compassion could have made them see reason. “There is little point in letting that anguish consume you. I have lived a long time, and I know too well the consequences of allowing that to happen. You are fetching little thing to look at, child. You must be strong as well to have survived your journey here. Turn back, find an equally pretty girl to marry, raise some children and use that strength to keep them safe. The day will come when this long night ends. There is no need to throw yourself on the swords. Your life has meaning, even in these dark times.”
For a moment in the brief silence that followed his speech, he thought the humans had heard his plea. If only they had, what a different story that would have been written. It started as only a silent shake of the shoulders and a sharp inhale of air, but soon cutting through the tension in the room was the brunettes rich voice. He was... Laughing. The human stood there before a Dhampyre and... He laughed. And the Dhampyre... Well, he was furious, he realized. The absolute gall. Here he was, not draining their corpses dry as he hungered to, attempting to spare these children and a man their lives and one of them had the nerve to laugh right in his face. Were they mad? Did they wish for death so earnestly? Honestly the blood meal they could provide would hastened his recovery along. If they wished so earnestly to die...
"Is this a test?” The laughing human gasped between fits of laughter.
He stared completely perplexed by the fool's merriment. At the very least the lanky man and the robed boy seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, as they passed each other varying looks of concern and puzzlement over their companions behaviour. Their daft, stark raving mad companion.
“I've never met a Vampyre whose method of attack was to nag me to death.” The long haired boy struggled, but seemed to be getting a hold of himself. “I mean it, is this a trial of some kind? Do you seek to test my conviction?” The light emanating from the whip at the boy's hip grew in intensity as the child climbed the stairs to face him more intimately. The child, for all his silver weapons and vials of consecrated water threateningly on display, stood only as tall as his chest, thus was forced to peer up at him, though being forced to look up at the Dhampyre hardly seemed to affect the oozing confidence. His ire grew as this tiny human paradoxically managed to stare him down. This insolent runt without the survival instinct to know what fire he was playing with. But at this distance that glowing rope...
The Dhampyre forgot his fury, instead all but consumed with fighting back the urge to escape the whip's proximity. Not so long ago for one of his kind he'd suffered the bite of a weapon like that before, and he did not care to taste it again anytime soon. “I seek,” He spoke levelly, masking his discomfort. “to dissuade you from a futile death.”
“Do you know why we've come, Vampyre?”
“There is only one reason mortal men pass through these parts anymore. You seek a path to the Castle as all other paths have been closed off. You seek to assault the home of Dracula with no army to call your own. You know Dracula has an army, I presume. You know he employs even humans amongst his ranks. Devil Forgemasters, summoners, witches, necromancers. You are three. You are exhausted, hungry, and hurt. What chance do you stand when so many others before have fallen with better odds?”
“What chance do any of us stand if things continue the way they are now?” The boy answered back with his own question. “The night hoards of Dracula have decimated our lands. All the great cities have more or less fallen and now they raze villages and huts as their hunger runs unchecked. Their blood and Dracula's curse have tainted our lands. Crops will not take root, and the wildlife we hunt have vanished from the forests. We are all already dead if nothing is done.”
“There are other lands. Flee.”
“I cannot do that.” The boy replied solemnly. “These lands and the people within it have not been kind to me or the ones I love. But this is my homeland. Those things you told me to get? That wife and children? I had a wife. She died from the poison of cursed fruit, pregnant with my third child. I have twin sons, still just babes.”
Empathy overode his discomfort of the hallowed weapon, softening his tone and his eyes. A dead wife and children already. Their human lives were so short, he forgot how rushed they were to simply survive. “All the more reason to flee.”
“Dracula will not stop with the last bastion of Wallachia, and he won't stop until the rot and curse consumes all of Romania. What makes you think he would not spread his wrath to other countries? Once he's finally finished exacting his wrath on this one?”
“He will never stop unless stopped. But it would buy time and temporary safety for your sons. I told you, the night will end one day. You only have to survive until then. There is no need to die a martyr's death for the sake of heroics.” He spoke the words as if he was making a promise. And he was. One day, he would face his father again, and he would not be the one slinking away to lick his wounds.
The tragic boy finally averted his gaze, letting his heavenly eyes, sorrowful now, drop to study the Dhampyre's boots intently. The hand on the whip tightened and released reflexively as he spoke. “My family was exiled from these lands and condemned by the Church for who we are and what we do. The Church refused our help when we could have stood a chance, and now as we are in our death throes they summon me back here and beg for salvation. There was a part of me that was vindictive, just as there was a part of me that wanted to restore my family's standing and honour. I chose to return because I wanted to be the hero and I did believe I'd be satisfied being a martyr, Vampyre, so your assumption is not too far off from what the truth once was. I am here now. Being here... Seeing what as become of my country and my people... Seeing what will be become of the surrounding nations should the night hoards spread further... I stand here now because I am the man who will kill Dracula. I cannot afford to fail.”
“And your companions. Why are they here?”
“Because we cannot afford to let him fail.” The robed figure replied. The smell of fear had vanished.
It was strange, to hear his own conviction echoed back at him from out the mouth of babes. They were battered and bruised, on death's door, but they still believed in it. They truly believed they had a chance. “Do... Do you think you can?” He whispered. He had to be certain. He couldn't afford to blindly hope.
The boy unlatched the glowing whip from his belt and lifted it to eye level. The shimmer woven between the leather sung sweetly, calling out to taste the flesh of a corrupt creature like himself. There was no mistaking that relic waved so tantalizingly close. He had not just seen a weapon similar to that one after all. He had seen that exact whip before. He had felt the holy fire of the famed Vampyre Killer as it bit into his flesh, seared pain through every vein in his body. And he was about to feel it again.
“This is who I am.” The boy stated, eyes falling on the whip. “I wished once that it was not, but it is. This is who I am, and this is what I do. So yes. I know I can.” Slowly, blue eyes made their way back to meet his golden ones, pinning him to place with their conviction. “Are you going to stop me?” He asked once more.
“A Belmont.” The name left his tongue full of reverence.
“Yes.” The Belmont affirmed.
“I will do better than stop you, young Belmont.” He promised. Years ago he had made the mistake of challenging Dracula in place of a Belmont, in a foolish bid to protect her. Had he fought by her side... Maybe this Belmont would still have a wife. “I am Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș. The man you seek to kill is none other than Vlad Dracula Țepeș, my father. If you truly are a Belmont and you have not simply robbed a family warehouse to brandish that holy weapon, you will show me how you intend to destroy my father. If you can defeat me, then maybe we have a chance.”
“We?”
“Defeat me young Belmont and I will guide you and your friends through my father's lands and into his lair. Defeat me and I will help you succeed or die trying at your side.”
“While rather long-winded, it seems you are a gatekeeper after all.” The Belmont sounded bemused, but his eyes burned. He motioned to the other two to hold their place.
This was to be a battle between two lost sons, finding their place in the world.
Chapter Text
June 2037 ~ Suginami ward, Tokyo
That was some night. Yoko mused privately, bloodshot eyes scanning over the same page in a magazine she couldn't read for umpteenth time. So many questions, and one frustratingly mute Dhampyre...
There was great cause for concern even leaving out Alucard's mystery friend. A coven of that size able to organize right under their organization's noses was concerning. There had been enough power in that room to forge pacts with thousands of demons, possibly enough even to reach into the great veil and touch the sealed Castle. It seems the world could never catch a break. Some asshat was always going to go looking for trouble or couldn't leave well enough alone. Which speaking of, one asshat had managed to flee into the night. An asshat capable of out manoeuvring a Dhampyre of Alucard's calibre. In the interest of public safety they should have been up the rest of the night going over what they'd seen and speculating where a charismatic witch could have escaped to. Alucard could have been home in time to light a candle or whatever he did to summon Señor Creepy for a hint or two. That weirdo at least gave enough good info to justify being that creepy. But instead, here they were in a privatized hospital trying to make sense of kanji printed all over teen magazines – two thirds of the merry band of Hunters, anyway – and with no clue as to who the boy who had derailed the night even was.
She must have driven the one and a half hour drive back in forty minutes after alighting the bodies of the fallen. Julius sat co-pilot and Alucard slipped into the back of the car he previously never let either of them drive with his mystery boy cradled in his arms. The Dhampyre blatantly ignored them for the better part of the drive, though Julius attempted to suss out some explanation every now and then. She, on the other hand, couldn't say a word because every time she looked in the rear view mirror she caught the usually stoic demon fussing over his charge with a smile on his face. Alucard. Smiling. It was uncanny. The first stop was 'Genya Arikado's' garden home for a shower and a change of clothes which at first she thought odd considering they had an unconscious man in their midst, but given the blood and the undead juices, agreed it was a necessary pit-stop. Before leaving with the now dressed sleeping boy, Alucard then took photos of his face and pried open a single eye to take another. Which again she thought was odd until after the second stop of the night at a nondescript warehouse door where a huge wad of cash was exchanged for an envelope containing a complete passport and various ID's for the unconscious dreamer in the backseat. Then it was just scary. She recalled not being able to stop asking how the fuck he had arranged all that made and ready to pick up in 20 minutes but honestly she didn't really want to know. It was creepy. Señor Creepy level of creep. That being said, Yoko did want to know why mystery boy's last name on those ID's was Arikado though. Which was a question the Dhampyre did actually answer to shake things up for the night, explaining that it was simply a matter of convenience. Family had longer and less restricted visiting hours. She didn't think mentioning that the European boy didn't look like Genya's family would be prudent, but a mental note was made for later to check those ID's if she could for a marriage licence. A fake marriage license would really take the sting out of all the annoyances they'd put up with so far this night.
And now they were here at the hospital. Waiting. Alucard, wearing his Asian government agent person suit, had admitted the boy under the pretext of a suicide attempt, considering the deep slices to his wrists and inner thighs. He'd also exerted his Vampyric Force of Will over the staff to smooth things over and prevent any additional complications, much to Julius displeasure. For injuries the boy sustained the police should have been notified as standard protocol, which Alucard insisted they totally had and the police had just left. Assured were they that it was completely normal to allow him to accompany the boy as he was treated, so they did. Julius was still grumbling about that, which she could understand. The Belmont family and Alucard had a longstanding history of respect, and the Hunter's allowed him a peaceful existence because he did not hunt men nor exert his powers to manipulate their hearts, which was exactly what he was doing with an entire hospital staff. But she supposed it was a one off occasion and that Julius could look the other way. Begrudgingly.
Moe women dressed like human dolls on the glossy pages of the magazine had just begun to agitate her when finally the tedium was broken as a nurse came to fetch them. Since neither of them spoke Japanese, it was an interesting game of pantomime before they realized she wanted them to follow her up the stairs to a probably very expensive private hospital room. It seemed Alucard had totally insisted that non family was allowed to visit someone at the crack of dawn, too.
Whatever minor ire she was holding onto kind of fell by the wayside when she entered the room and stopped dead in her tracks to just take the little scene in. Alucard, still in his Asian government man suit, stood by the head of the left side of the bed. With one hand he tenderly gripped the boy's left hand, careful not to disturb the medical tubes connected to IV bags, while with the other he lightly scraped a path up the underside of the boy's arm with his nails before his fingertips retraced the path back down only to start again. It was the mindless touch of a man in love. She was an idiot not to see if before. The little smiles despite the worry in his eyes, the constant need to touch... This was a lover returned. The circumstances may be cruel and bizarre, but that couldn't diminish the joy of being reunited. Julius however seemed impervious to the sweetness on display. The Hunter brushed passed her with a half apology and took a place at the side of the boy's bed. Alucard spared him a greeting glance but his eyes quickly returned to the face of the boy in the bed.
“How is your friend?” Julius inquired softly, considerate of the ill's need for rest.
“He was missing enough blood to be considered legally dead. Amongst other fluids.” Alucard replied in just as hush a tone as the Hunter. “Iron, B-12, blood sugar, cell count...” The Dhampyre shook his head. “He really should be dead.” The two men stood silently for a moment but then Alucard's shoulders began to shake as a small chuckle escaped his lips. “He is so stubborn, I wouldn't be surprised if Death did come for him on the table and he just refused to die.”
“Will you now fill us in on who he is?”
Alucard paused his caress and considered the Hunter's request. “I cannot exactly say.” The Dhampyre tried to explain. “I know who he appears to be, but that must be an impossibility. The dead have returned to me before but always changed. As ghouls or spirits or worse. This stepped right out of my past and into my arms unchanged. I have had experience before with doppelgangers of old friends but they were empty shells cobble together from stolen memories and dark shadows. They lacked the light of life and their eyes were empty when I gazed into them.” Another shake of the head. “He looked at me. He recognized me. He said my name. His scent is the same. He... is living. As far as I can tell. But for that to be true there are powers at work I've never heard a whisper of, and I have lived a long time, Julius. I do not know all, but I know some of most. I do not know... this.”
“So who does he appear to be?”
The Dhampyre hesitated, playing with the sleeve cuff of the sleeping boy in question. “I would prefer to wait for him to wake and tell you himself.” Before Julius could argue he hurriedly continued. “I too need to hear him tell me in his own words who he is. I want this to be a miracle... I want so terribly my heart aches. Do you understand?”
Surprisingly, though it shouldn't have been considering she knew how much of a softie Julius truly was, the Hunter nodded and let the matter lay for now. Whoever was laying in that bed wasn't going anywhere or hurting anybody anytime soon. Besides, as much as the Dhampyre guarded his thoughts and feelings from them, he was still their friend. And their friend had let them know he needed time to find answers he could accept. Call it woman's intuition or whatever nonsense she'd usually balk at, but she had translated the stoic Dhampyre's words in her head already. Guys, I really liked this one guy and I think this is the same guy but I'm not sure and it's eating me up inside because I super want this to be the same guy. Can we please just let me have this until he wakes up and my dreams are dashed?
And you know, the old young-looking man deserved to have this, whatever it was. He'd spent centuries selflessly battling the hoards of evil and hunting down those that preyed on the good boys and girls and he'd asked for nothing in return for that dedicated service. Yoko stepped lightly up to the bed to stand beside Julius and smiled warmly at the Dhampyre. “He's very handsome.” She said congratulating. And yeah, looking at the freshly washed lustrous chestnut hair and sharp but classically debonair bone structure – nasty scar aside – he was very handsome. Like a skinnier long-haired version of some sepia toned silent film hero. Only cuter. Much younger than her, so that made him a kid in her books, but a good looking lad none the less.
She expected Alucard to deftly ignore her jibe like the immovable stone he tended to be. Instead, his eyes drifted back to the boy's face while that small smile returned. “Yes, he is.” Softly, the Dhampyre agreed.
And with that her cuteness overload went critical. She clamped down on a girlie squeal for dear life and snaked an arm around one of Julius' to pull the man away from the bed.
“Wha-” Julius begun but she shushed him.
“It's been a long night, Alucard.” She explained as she pulled the Hunter along. “We need to discuss that coven and what we're going to do next but it can wait for now. We're going to get some rest and you should to. Text me when you get up and we'll meet back up. We can do it here if you'd like to keep vigil over your friend. All right?”
The Dhampyre blinked a few times at her but nodded his head. “Rest well.”
“Take good care of him~” She all but sang. That girlie squeal was breaking lose. It was ten seconds and counting down until the Squee-Train officially left the station.
Julius marched obligingly by her side but still while trying to shake her lose. “What's going on now?”
“There is nothing to discuss for now so why hang around?”
“Moral support?”
“That is so kind of you, and we did give our moral support. Now we need to give them privacy.”
"Am I missing something?”
“The incessant petting and fussing didn't clue you in?”
“I am missing something.”
"Oh, Julius, really?”
“Wait... Oh. Ohhh. Is that what that was?”
“I don't know the whole story but I already know I'm two hundred percent behind it.”
“All right, Yoko. It has been a long night, as you said. You want to split a cab back to the hotel or would you rather masturbate a little more over the thought of Alucard getting his freak on with that guy?”
“I can do both!”
The Squee-Train had left the station.
Notes:
I think we're all on some level, a little bit Yoko.
Chapter 5: Associations
Chapter Text
October 1476 ~ A Cave East the Sunken City of Poltergeists
Sweet smelling viscous blood beckoned his name, dripping sensually down the face of the young Belmont from a still wet slash on his brow. Reflexes a fraction of a second slower would have cost the Hunter his eye. One of those heavenly eyes blinking away the red staining them caused the Dhampyre's own to bleed from gold to crimson as hunger grew insatiable. It had been too many years from his last meal to keep control in the presence of such a dish. Good intentions and pretenses of only testing the Belmont's mettle be damned, he quivered at the thought of forcing that wild animal of a man down beneath him and tearing into that flesh with fangs. Gone was the sensual fantasy he earlier entertained of seducing this creature with finery and mulled wine. Starved Vampyres had no patience for beckoning and languid seductions, only primal dominance over their chosen prey. The Belmont's assault had incensed his fury once again. From where did the injured Hunter pull such savagery and strength when moments before he had been struggling to keep on his feet out of pure exhaustion? How could he not keep pace with the human? Starved and weakened though he was, the man was only human, starved and weakened as well. It was maddening. Blind with rage, he made a fatal lunge for the Hunter, only realizing his mistake far too late to pivot. The Belmont met his attack head on with purpose, managing to catch him in a stranglehold with that blessed whip and pulled him to the earth. In a better frame of mind he may have been able to accept the sound defeat. This was a Belmont after all. But even in a calmer and less famished state, he could not abide the Hunter straddling his defeated body only to sneer down his nose at the Dhampyre victoriously. He would not suffer this indignity. Not from a child, Belmont or not. Clawed hands caught the Hunter's throat by surprise that he used to reverse their positions, slamming the boy into the rock bed fiercely enough blood pooled where the stone dipped. Now he had the lithe little creature pinned exactly where he had been longing to dominate him, and not even the excruciating burn of the holy weapon wound around his neck was going to stop him from tasting Belmont blood.
“Valiant effort.” The damned child had the gall to chide. “You've lost, Vampyre.”
The sheer audacity broke through his rage and he couldn't help but laugh. Oh, why couldn't it be decades earlier? He would have kept this precocious boy safe from the stench and savagery outside in a pretty gilded cage befitting such noble features, feeding him figs and honey so that he tasted sweet when fed upon. His own private reserve of fresh blood. “I don't think you know how duels work, little Belmont.”
“I know how stakes work.”
Just then he felt the silver blade of one of the Belmont's knives slide neatly between his ribs, stopping a hair's breath from his heart, and he stilled. “I could tear your throat out before the blade kills me.”
The Belmont flashed him a triumphant grin. “You will still die shortly after, and that's the point. You've lost.”
“This is a draw.” He corrected, still laughing. Perhaps he would have bottled some of that fine sweetened blood and gave it away as gifts, or aged it in an old apple or ceder barrel. Perhaps he would have fed the bewitching beauty some of his own blood, mixed with wine. Or incorporated it into an exquisitely decadent dish he'd hand feed his pampered pet, if only so he could watch the creature suck the juices from his fingertips.
The young Belmont, oblivious and innocent of the Dhampyre's all consuming perversions, carried on. “You sought to turn us back, Vampyre. You want us to flee this place and never return. I wanted what you have offered. I want you to help me reach the Castle. Which one of us got what they wanted?”
How mystifying it was that in all the years he had spent chasing down the children of God for the thrill of the hunt when not for sustenance, he had never come across a human so magnetic. It was as if he was dry kindling and this boy a spark. For as much as he desired to consume this creature beneath him, somehow he knew he was the one burning up. Every word out of those pale lips had the sound of a boast, it should have been infuriating. Such confidence out of the mouth of a babe... It was ludicrous. Truthfully this was not even the first Belmont he had been in the presence of, but the last to carry that whip had been poise and graceful. The last had commanded nothing less but his utmost respect, and had earned his admiration. This one... This one made him anxious and incited within himself some deep urge to prove his worth. This Belmont made him hungry in foreign ways he could not define. There was simply nothing to be done but sit back, allowing the Belmont to raise to his elbows, and study the creature's features up close for the first time. Too pretty. Too young for the task old men asked of him. He made a small gesture towards his body which the Hunter took as an invitation to slide the blade out and untangle the heirloom from his neck. Nervous uncertain energy aside, it might have been pleasant had these been peaceful days to stay as they were, amused intrigue temporarily leeching his blood lust, and just watch the Hunter speak. Perhaps if he listened long enough to that voice, he would understand why he was so eager to believe in this Belmont. Why he warred between wanting to dote upon him on one hand a rip into his flesh on the other. Why he warred between wanting to both feed and feed upon him. Or why he wouldn't have minded if the Hunter had pushed his blade from earlier in that hair's breath further. Alas, times were too dire and he too hungry to savour the moment any longer than he already had. The heat of the body between his thighs was driving him to distraction. Soon, it would drive him back to blood lust. “I must know your name.”
“I am Trevor Christopher Belmont.”
“Trevor Belmont,” He intoned, rising gracefully from the Hunter. He offered a hand down to help the young man up, overly pleased when it was accepted. “I concede. You are as deadly as any Belmont before you.”
The Hunter clasped his hand firmly, giving a solitary shake before hauling himself from the cool ground. He wiped at the blood from the slash through his brow and near into his hairline, doing little more than smearing the mess further. Adrenaline ebbing, exhaustion soon brought about the return of unsteady trembling. Precious blue eyes still held their fire, but he could see the Hunter's body was on the verge of collapse. You wouldn't have been able to tell from his voice, however. “Adrian, you said your name was?”
That pleasant voice, lighter in tone that his own but still strong, gave him cause for pause. The name his mother had bestowed upon him sounded far too intimate on those lips. Given the unabated fancies his mind leapt to all ready in the presence of this particular Hunter, it would be better to start distancing himself. Otherwise this partnership would end in it's infancy, with one of them surely dead. “I was once known to the people of Wallachia as Alucard. You may use that name.” He gave a theatrical bow for good measure.
“Alucard.” The Hunter seemed to test the name. “That is a joke, yes?”
“An insult, I believe it was meant to be. But I've grown fond of it. I like to think I stand opposite from my father. His better reflection.”
The Hunter tilted his head thoughtfully, but thankfully accepted his explanation and let it lay. Trembling hands waved the two companions, forgotten in the intensity of their duel, over to the stone stairs where Alucard had conceded victory. They were still wary as they drew near, yet their trust in the Belmont's judgment won out over their apprehensions. Closer as they were, he could study them better just as they looked him over in the uncertain silence, pregnant with the inquiries all parties were too hesitant to ask. Alucard found himself at a loss in the silence, unable to recall from his past limited experiences with human interaction how one put his guests at ease. Humans often made jokes to ease tense situations, but he could find no humour in the situation before them. Relief washed over him when the Hunter was the first to fill the growing silence as he weakly braced a hand on the sarcophagus to lower his unsteady body to the ground. Back against Alucard's resting place, the now subdued Belmont gave them all a weak smile, but lingered just a little longer on him. That lingering look again stirred something within that the demon could not put a name towards. Worried, the Hunter's companions knelt to either side of him, the robed boy going so far as to reach out and touch the back of his hand to the Hunter's forehead... It was a familiar gesture. One his mother would do when checking her patients. The boy continued to fuss but the Belmont waved his prodding hands away.
“I'm all right.” Trevor insisted, evidently not convincing enough for the robed boy. “I just needed to rest... Just for a moment. Really, I'm fine.”
“You have not been fine for days, Trevor Belmont.” The robed boy scolded in a tone that made it as clear this was an ongoing debate between the two just as the sheepish and apologetic look the hunter gave in return did.
It was an odd scene to watch. How the weakened and unsteady boy in robes could chastened the weakened and unsteady boy in leathers over the poor state of his health when all three of them were dead on their feet. Such single minded focus on a patient at the expense of oneself the boy displayed kept bringing his mother's memory to him. Care... In all things Lisa Țepeș had done, whether mixing tinctures and salves, cleaning wounds, cutting herbs, polishing porcelain teacups, or tucking little boys into their coffins at dawn, the saintly woman had always done so with deliberate care and consideration for those around her. He thanked her silently for guiding him still, decades after her tragic passing. A good host saw to his guests needs, as a good companion should. That was the point of such unions, as it was. Taking care of each other.
“None of you look fine in my eyes.” His remark startled the fussing duo still. “Your injuries must be cleaned. I can smell the beginnings of infection. You must tend to your wounds and rest.” He moved slowly having drawn their attention, and strode at the unhurried pace so as not to alarm them, wary as they were of the Dhampyre in their midst, to a crumbling nondescript wall. He twisted the torch nearby and stood back as the stone wall receded into the second chamber he'd revealed. “This was a laboratory many years ago.” He stated, only continuing to explain when he realized they were unfamiliar with the term. “Medicine was made from herbs grown right here. Many of the plants are edible. There are mushrooms and I believe potatoes or turnips growing here too. It's been a while since I've been in this room. You are hungry... right? Please.” He waved, offering whatever bounty had survived his long slumber. “There is water as well. Untainted water.”
After a quick exchange of looks the crafty eyed man climbed to his feet with a bit more grace than the other two had displayed and tentatively came to Alucard's side, eyes wide as he stared into a small closet of wonders. His head jerked in several directions, first at the electrical lights, the crops lined in neat rows, the well of cool water, the apothecary tools, the steady grind of gears working to keep the whole place going. The man who was not so scrawny as he'd thought – his arms and legs wiry compact ropes of muscle and sinew beneath sun darkened skin, mottled like aged leather – took a solitary step in. When nothing happened he took a few more, soon lost in exploring the tight confines of the hidden lab. He plucked a tuft of foliage from the black moist earth, surprised delight splitting his cragged and weather beaten visage as he grinned from ear to ear. Alucard did his best to smile back, deciding he liked this human's face. Heavily lined as it was with history, there was a sharp unconventional nobility to it, almost undefinable, that instilled a sense of calm. He stepped out of the man's way so he could share his discovery with the two by the sarcophagus.
“There are carrots!” He exclaimed reverently. “Honest to God. There are living plants and clear water in here.”
Hesitant to leave the frail Hunter's side as he was, the robed boy's curiosity won out. He tottered along on shaky legs to examine the room for himself, equally delighted at what was inside. “Rosehips, mint, chamomile... Is this Aloe?” Eyebrows climbed high when Alucard nodded. “You... you are offering this to us?”
“Of course.” He replied. “You are a practitioner of magick, yes? You must know how to use some of these.”
The boy flinched but did not deny his summation of the boy's talents. Neither did the child waste any more time, reaching for a bucket to fill with fresh water. “See if you can find something to start a fire, Grant. And some more buckets. More bandages, maybe. Ours need to be washed. We can start a stew and I can make some antiseptic. Maybe even wash these clothes.”
The man, Grant, jumped to follow the boys instructions, stopping briefly by his side to flash another smile, this one self conscious. Gingerly, an open hand was extended, offering a willingness to trust and gratitude without any verbiage. “Grant.” After a beat. “Danasty.”
“I have heard that name before. An old noble house of these lands.” He recalled out loud accepting the offered handshake.
“I am the last, I'm afraid.” The former noble explained between carrying various jugs of water out into the centre of the room. Soon after he was off to scavenge for things that could pass for firewood, and Alucard watched amazed at how effortlessly he scaled the chamber walls to pull dried husks of root free. “And I was always the black sheep of the family to begin with.” He laughed and shrugged dismissively. “Old pa must be rolling his grave, knowing I'm the only thing left behind of his legacy. But enough about that, it's long in the past.” Grant landed solidly on the ground, arms overfull of dried roots and twigs. As he bundled them in a cone shape he gave the Dhampyre yet another smile, this one relaxed. “You know, I keep feeling like I should be more worried about you than I am, Vampyre. Suppose I've seen so many strange things these past few years... A friendly Vampyre really should rank higher though.”
He spread his hands and smiled back, making note of how tension easing humour was done, and left the last of the Danasty family and the robed boy to their purposeful tasks, returning to the weary Hunter who tried to mask his failed attempt to stand as simple fidgeting. He politely allowed the Belmont his white lie for the sake of pride, and some personal space for the sake of safety. Clotting blood was still blood, and he still starved. Words, he found, were growing increasingly scarce the longer his eyes trailed the Hunter's body. Those powdery blue eyes were still his favourite feature, but long shapely legs clad in buttery leather made a high bid for the honour. The hair held the potential of being pleasant to card fingers through after a wash and a comb. These coddling and playful urges were such foreign concept to him, for he had always just taken what we wanted and needed from his prey, sparing lives only as a concession to his mother. If only he could have the luxury of exploring this newfound peculiar appetite. Was it human influence that tempered his animality? The blood from his human mother finally asserting itself? Lineage aside, he'd never truly felt nor acted other then Vampyre. Such a shame the timing is all wrong. He mused with a regretful sigh. Perhaps it was less musing and more just regret.
“Do you need anything?” Inquired the Dhampyre, at last able to string a sentence together.
The Hunter attempted a smile but faltered. It appeared even the fire in his eyes was finally succumbing to the wear and tear and weariness of his body. “I have a hot meal and maybe even some clean clothes coming. What more could a man ask for?” Even the attempt at levity felt strained. Beneath the layers of grime and blood the Dhampyre finally saw the blanched skin of an ailing man that had caused the robed boy to fuss. Whether caused from untended wounds or overexertion, a fever was fast on it's way.
Oddly, it was easier than he'd expected to push his blood lust to the back of his mind, like flicking the switches of the electric lights off back in his father's castle. Maybe it had something to do with these strange foreign appetites, but as he bent to scoop the limp Hunter into his arms, the only unbidden thoughts about fangs and blood that came to mind was the realization that as close as he was to the source of his fantasies and appetite, he'd landed firmly on the side of his warring desires that did not want to hurt this sickly man. Not through violence or the result of hunger. The list of strange feelings and unnatural reactions to contemplate was growing by the minute. “A man could use some proper rest.” Even his voice was unnaturally soothing in tone. Have I always been capable of sounding this kind? He carried the fevered Hunter around the sarcophagus only to give his companions a chance to see what he was doing had no ill intent, and certainly not because he wanted to test how long he could hold the man without the urge to feed returning, stopping only to prepare the Belmont for what was about to happen. Human's were so finicky and superstitious about things like this. “Do not be alarmed. I am going to lay you down in here so you can rest while your friends work. It's cushioned and warmer than the ground. The lid will not close on you, so just think of it as a bed with walls.”
To his credit the Belmont didn't clutch his pearls over being prematurely put in his grave. As if the simple act of laying in coffin or standing on a grave site could really take years off your life. What he did do was remove his gloves to run his calloused hands over the fine satin, almost as if trying to recall a memory too faded to grasp. The man gave a great sigh and looked up at the Dhampyre. “Roomy.”
“You are much smaller than I.” He pointed out, virginal attempt at human humour.
“Kick a man when he's down, why don't you?” The Hunter's lips quirked, telling him no offence was taken.
Perhaps this humour thing was something he could get used to. One dismissive wave of the hand in reply later, he was shrugging out of his cloak to tuck it around the trembling Belmont, not even aware when he had decided to be so... Motherly. Trevor's compliant behaviour did had a limit, however, and that limit was being tucked into bed like a child. Alucard held him gently down by the shoulders until he stopped fighting and resorted to glares. And what method had Lisa utilized to sooth petulant children? Why, she promised them pleasant things. Drink this medicine and you'll be able to go outside and play. The sooner you go to sleep, the sooner the tomorrow and the village fair will come. Alucard caught the Belmont's chin between thumb and forefinger and did his best not to sound condescending. “I have been asleep many years and I must feed. Your friends are not yet done their tasks, so I will take this opportunity to hunt. The graveyard above is home to many crows, and it will take many birds to sate my hunger. I will bring them back for roasting. Rest here, Trevor Belmont, and when you wake that hot meal you deserve will be waiting.”
“I wonder if they taste like chicken?” Trevor murmured, and closed his eyes.
It... worked. Lisa Țepeș had been a master of her craft.
Silently he stood vigil over the Hunter until his chest rose slowly and dreams danced behind his eyelids. Only then did he shift form into a bat and take off though the cave into the still night above, off not only on the hunt for blood, but to see how damaged the world had become during his long slumber.
Once above, the reveal was pure chaos.
Chapter 6: Madness in Midnight
Chapter Text
June 2037 ~ Suginami ward, Tokyo
“No onions, no garlic, no beets, no eggplant, no broccoli, in fact, nothing that touches the ground except potatoes.”
“I thought all you ladies were hot on the salad wagon.”
“Nooope. No leaves. Not even a bay leaf in my soup, thank you. And if you come within a twenty foot radius of me holding celery I don't care who you are, you're eating some fireballs.”
“Woman, do you even eat food?”
It was always such a great delight to exasperate the old Hunter. Julius just had such muted way of flipping his shit. It was like the anti-shit flipping. A shit... placing? Eww. She thought, quickly abandoning this failed analogy in favour of continuing to shoot down nearly every ingredient under the sun Julius threw her way. It was a fairly good distraction from the literal pain in her ass as she perched upon one of the god-awful kitchen stools in Alucard's posh modern kitchen. They had come part as a whole kit and caboodle with nearly everything else in the right out of a magazine styled home, and just like everything else in this practically personality devoid box, they seemed designed purely to make family and friends feel uncomfortable and unwelcome so they'd leave faster. Hell, it was almost like the Dhampyre enjoyed being a total loner.
“Look,” Julius begun, sweeping the majority of groceries he'd picked up to the wayside. “Pasta?”
“...Go on.”
“Cheese? Tomatoes?”
“...I'm still on board.”
A true light-bulb moment was had right there, judging by his expression. “Lasagna it is.” And with that announcement the man got to work slicing and grating. He didn't even suggest the idea of her pitching in because he was smart and had a long memory when it came to accidental knifings and kitchen fires with no discernible point of origin. Also Alucard flat out forbade her having anything pointy in the house. Total Killjoy. But really, if he didn't want her playing with the pointy things laying around then he wouldn't have chosen his sole personal touch to the dwelling to be so many regional and period weapons on display throughout the study and main room. Or possess a flammable kitchen.
“Ugh, how much longer could he possibly be on the phone? He's like one of those old great aunts with the humps who just yammer on and on about things that make you want to curl up and die inside because they're so boring they retroactively suck the fun out of past experiences.”
“I think I had one of those.” Julius rewarded her with a deep belly laugh which was just the little perk-up she needed. “Honestly, I couldn't tell you. I have no idea what he does for the government, or even if when he says he's working for 'the government' he means the Japanese one. Probably a while still, though. Auntie Alucard does like to sweat the details. Every single one of them. But...” He gestured to her phone and opened notebooks and grimoire, continuing to speak in the mentoring tone he'd begun to adopt more frequently when working with her. “We can still keep studying those symbols that were painted and cut into everything down in the crypt without him.”
She let out a noncommittal noise, but obliged, falling back onto the stool to transcribe chicken scratches, hoping that if the Hunter was going to be moulding her into his protege this late in the game, she better be getting a whip out of it. As for the glyphs, there wasn't an exact pattern in so far as she could discern. It seemed a hopeless mishmash of numerous cultures hieroglyphics or cave paintings and what looked suspiciously like a crude dick-pic. This one right here, she mused internally, is definitely someone's butt print. Logging away notes from the photos and the meagre arcane materials they managed to salvage after the cave carnage was a thankless task, but after a while the gentle scrape of pen on paper over the rhythmic sounds of meal preparation grew to become almost cathartic. It was becoming almost frighteningly easy to slide into an Investigational mindset, bypassing the simple acknowledgement that the photos of symbols she was looking at were close up shots of deceased human beings. Here she sat, safely wrapped up in domesticity, making jokes about the mutilation done to innocent people. Julius said nothing at first when she turned sharply to wipe away the few hot tears that escaped.
“We all have our coping mechanisms.” He offered as solace.
“What are you, a mind reader?”
'Experienced.”
“Well... I can't argue with that.” She conceded. “I'd ask for advice but I'm assuming you just keep doing your job to cope.” The hunter nodded albeit a little sadly. “That's all right... I suppose being all broken up about the atrocities man is willing to commit against his brother does the opposite of helping to catch the bottom feeding bastards capable of these things. It doesn't make us any less human for... coping. Not if it helps get the job done, right?”
“I think so. Still, I also know it's okay to let it break you every now and then. Keeps why we do what we do at the forefront of your mind.”
Slowly a grateful smile ghosted her lips and she excused herself to the living room to have a bit of a cry in peace, Julius letting her go without a word like the doll he was. She poked mindlessly at potted succulents, fingered the displayed weapons carefully, and made several loops around the low chabudai decorated with an ornate tea set that had probably never been used. Art books on display were passed over in favour of starting a comforting flame in the fireplace, and then returned to when out of the corner of her eye she realized one was a collection of very erotic works. Alucard, you horn-dog. But really, the Dhampyre would probably just prattle on about the cultural significance of the classy porn if confronted, and he'd be completely truthful like the sexless bore that he was. Or maybe not... There was the matter of the handsome little hunk of man-meat laying in a hospital bed the Dhampyre was so enamoured with. Maybe there was some culturally significant man on man porn in this book. Maybe Alucard made notes in the borders for later use. Even juicier, maybe Alucard had made notes about use after the fact. Rated his favourite old timey positions. Well, I guess I am back to coping. Talk about mood whiplash today.
Thumbing through the sexy book in hand, she continued pacing the room, trailing the border of the large boxy pattern carved into the wood floor. Disappointingly there weren't any addendums added by the Dhampyre to the kinky acts, but there was some coveted man love hidden between the covers. Mind only half on the smut, she stopped facing the glass door to the darkening garden as the sun dipped low on the horizon. Bathed in the crimson light, the wooden trellis appeared almost ablaze. Carved square patterns cut into the columns kept drawing her eyes... Which now that she thought about it, there was a square glyph that she'd copied down more than once that more or less seemed to be placed prominently. It was too organic a shape to be of Asian origin, however. As she stood there watching the last sliver of sunlight slip away, an albino apparition materialized before the glass. Fear choked the scream from passing her lips, but she retreated from the door swiftly before her eyes could focus on the grinning creep.
Paler than even Alucard and with a complimentary long silver-white mane of hair, Joachim Armster tapped long coned shaped nails of an alabaster hand on the glass as he leered at her. The full blooded Vampyre was dressed as he always was, in a long midnight blue crushed velvet overcoat and steel, more decoration than armour, the whole cut and construction of the material appearing even more ancient than the vintage vestments Alucard wore on the Hunts. Even from the respectable distance she'd put between them his cloudy grey eyes betrayed his unhinged mind. The pupils were wide like they always were when his sights lingered on her, and she shivered on reflex. Unbidden, she recalled reading in a fluff girl magazine that normal men and women's eyes dilated when they gazed upon something they enjoyed or were attracted to, and that was how you could tell if your dream man was 'into you.' The Vampyre flashing her pointy white fangs was more of a nightmare than anything else.
Without removing his glistening eyes from her body, the Vampyre unlatched and slid the glass door open, allowing himself access to the formerly cozy living area through way of a clever loophole. Alucard's summon was an invite, after all. Heeled boots clicked with every small step in her direction, as if testing how close she'd allow him to come. She shivered internally but held her ground, managing to sound fairly casual and nonplussed when she pointed a finger at him and told him to stop. “You know the rules.” She reminded him with a wag of that pointing finger. “No going passed the line unless you're properly invited in.”
Joachim's grin lost some of the amusement it contained, leaving little more than a show of teeth. Defiant, his heeled boots only stopped clicking when he stood at the very extreme edge of the carved wooden floor's rectangular pattern. Still in the recessed area of the entrance-way and just shy of what was considered the interior of the home proper, he made a show of raising a single hand palm out, as if signalling for an armistice, slowly turning a deceptively delicate looking wrist until the back of his hand faced her. One by one he curled his pale digits towards his palm, every measured fold increasing the magnetic pull on her clothing and jewellery, even upon the gold plated spine of the book in her hand. Against her will, the pull was quickly too powerful to resist being dragged across the floor, boots scraping futilely, until she was trapped standing an elbows length apart from a Vampyre, neck craned to look up into the face of madness. So close to an ancient Vampyre, even a sorceress of the Belnades clan could not fight off the mesmerizing power of such a creature. The will to fight faded fast, and the urge to summon help soon followed.
“You stink less today than others of your kind, pretty little human girl.” The Vampyre menaced. “And your sudden bravery is rather refreshing though I must confess I do prefer it when you cower in my presence. It makes you so much more delectable. Your fear is a fine perfume and you wear it so well, pretty human.”
Where was Julius? Couldn't the Hunter hear the Vampyre terrorize her now even if he'd missed the monster's entrance? Or Alucard? The Dhampyre had uncanny hearing and a sense of smell like a bloodhound. One of them must know Joachim was for all intents and purposes was inside the house.
Plucking the book from her hands Joachim flipped through the pages chuckling. “What have we here? Such a naughty little girl you are. Does your father know what sins you've been up to? My, what terrible spankings he must give you.” The Vampyre continued the turn pages deliberately, rather obviously looking for the page he settled on before pushing it back into her hands. She stared bug eyed at the elaborately rope bound women on the page as the shadow of the monster before her eclipsed the light of the fire. “How would you like to try this little sin on, hmm? We could use silk ropes so we don't mar that creamy skin. In fact if you ask sweetly, I might let you tie me up instead. Or if you prefer...” His breath ghosted her ear as he whispered, turning the pages knowingly until they stopped on a collection of Shunga woodcuts. He let her sweat for a bit, eyes glued to the Edo women tangled up with squid before continuing. “I can think of quite a few creatures happy to take the place of that sea-beast.”
“Oh God.” Her cry was so quiet in the shadow the Vampyre cast.
“God never casts his eyes in my direction, pretty little human.” Words that were both a promise and a threat.
“Think about what you're doing, Vampyre. Think very carefully.” Like a big damn hero, Julius challenged her tormentor from a place she could only see out the corner of her eye. In his hands the Vampyre Killer sung sweetly as it gave off a greenish blue hue. In such proximity to a full blooded Vampyre, the very devil it had been crafted to destroy, the holy weapon's lustre was near blinding.
If Joachim's grin had been just a show of teeth, then what he was doing now was nothing short of a snarl. “Now here's the source of the stench in this place. A Belmont.” His nose wrinkled as he lifted his head to stare down it at Julius. “An old Belmont. What are you even doing with that thing at your age? Don't you humans ship each other off to decrepit old nursing homes these days when you grow to be as ancient and wrinkly as you?” Silver eyes darkening to cloudy grey next began to bleed into scarlet, the sign of a Vampyre about to hunt. About to feed. “Can you even swing that thing anymore, old man?”
She thought for sure that would be the challenge even Julius couldn't ignore, and braced herself for the damn psychopath to get a taste of what was good for him, but Julius shrugged the insult off, not even closing the distance between them. “I believe I asked you to think about what you are doing, Vampyre. How smart do you think it is to be playing inside this house?”
“Are you trying to frighten me? I've killed quite of few of your kind back in the day. It was always so hard to stand the stench of you Belmonts even if you were in the next town over. The little overconfident boys were my favourite to drain dry. They were just as smug as you, caught up in their own legacy and all the more weaker for it. They did at least have youth on their side. What are you going to do, Belmont? Break a hip?”
Yoko felt the pull on all her metal buttons and jewellery return before she was inched ever closer to the crazed Vampyre.
“Don't you touch that girl.” Julius warned.
But Joachim, ever defiant, refused to listen. He pulled her near flush against his body, arm reaching down to scoop her up, and almost had her when two blurs warred for her attention. Thunder cut across the dim room and before she realized what had happened, she found herself flat on her ass staring at Alucard separating the two, face twisted into pain as he had protected Joachim from the Vampyre Killer with his own left forearm. After a moment to assess what had just fucking happened, Julius unwound the whip from Alucard's flesh with a simple flick of the wrist. He held it loosely behind him, prepared to strike again if need be. Which she soon realized was a smart idea. Swirling dangerously above and behind a levitating Joachim were several ghostly swords, poised to do their master's bidding. It was well known that each Vampyre could seduce, influence, and to a degree outright control their victims. They all drunk blood, and they were all subject to a blood lust near impossible to ignore under the right circumstances. Less available knowledge was that no two Vampyre's were truly alike. Dracula had been able to change his form, control familiars and summon hellfire, gifts he passed onto his son. Back in war times before the great Demon War of 1999, a Vampyre named Brauner had been able to seal pockets of space and travel through his paintings. It appeared this affinity and manipulation of real world metal and a psychokinetic control over his own body and these phantom swords was Joachim's Vampyric powers manifest.
“You are a guest, Joachim. You will damage my home swinging around those things in here. I cannot believe you'd be so rude to me.” Alucard's tone was that of a man mildly scandalized. Though his forearm poured blood and the smell of seared flesh was thick in the living room, the Dhampyre made no move to care for the wound. Instead he tsked disapprovingly like the mother of a misbehaving child. And just like that, grey eyes returned and phantom swords faded into thin air before the Vampyre's feet had even touched the ground. Even that off kilter smile made a comeback. “That's better. Now what is this all about?”
“I am terribly bored. I waited so long for you I thought you'd forgotten. I was coming in here to get you and the less smelly human put up a fuss. You speak of my poor manners, but what about your dogs, or for that matter your own, my pet?”
“Your impatience does not excuse molesting Yoko or antagonizing Julius. I am considering asking you to leave.”
“You invited.” The Vampyre snapped in a huff.
“I can rescind the invitation. This is my home and you've accosted my other guests.”
“It is not in actuality an invitation and you know it, Half-breed. You beckoned and I am here! Your tardiness tries my patience and your animals do not play nicely!” The Vampyre closed his eyes after his small tirade, forcing the amiable facade back into place with visible effort. Once again he held up a hand palm out, both of them this time actually, in what could be construed as a call for peace. Fortunately there was no magnetic pull that followed the gesture this time. The Vampyre simply and seemingly all to familiarly ran them down the sides of Alucard's torso until they could grip just above his hips and pulled the Dhampyre in close, far too intimately. Only the last second twist of Alucard's head seemed to stop the Vampyre from sinking wet fangs into his flesh. Joachim practically purred, as if expecting and enjoying the chase. “If you apologize I will forgive you, sweet Princeling.”
For whatever unsteady truce Alucard had been trying to achieve with his careful words and mothering tone, it all seemed to go right out the window when the Dhampyre was on the receiving end of the molesting. Now it was Alucard's eyes that bled from gold to crimson and his fangs that were bared. “Hands.” He hissed.
The Vampyre studied the seething Dhampyre for a measured moment, just short of the end of Alucard's tolerance before he removed his hands. Quickly. In fact, quick enough that his sharp cone shaped nails left bloody ribbons of the snowy white dress shirt Alucard wore. “I do apologize.” Joachim lied, locking eyes with the Dhampyre as he licked the blood from every nail. “I'll never be quite used to these claws, you see.”
“I apologize as well.” Alucard also clearly lied, given that the gold was still long gone from his irises. “I have been quite impolite, making you wait out in the cold. Please.” He waved a hand towards the study. “Let's have a glass a wine and speak civilly. We're not animals.”
“Ha.”
Alucard watched the Vampyre disappear behind the door before he finally inspected the burn from the Vampyre Killer, It was a nasty wound and given that the whip had been singing for pure blooded Vampyre flesh when it lashed out, the healing process would take a long time. Curse of the Vampyre, that. They were hard to damage but when they were wounded seriously it took them a long time to heal. Undead flesh just didn't seem to mend like the living.
“I'm sorry about that.” Julius sounded like he was apologizing for more than one thing.
“What did I tell you?” Alucard spat but clamped his mouth shut on whatever else he was going to say on the matter. “Forget it. I'm sorry too... I shouldn't expect you to stay your hand given what he might have done to her. Are you all right, Yoko?”
“Yes.” She wasn't quite sure of the validity of that claim, but Joachim was in another room and that was a better feeling than any at this moment.
“All right. I'll just be a bit.” And with that the Dhampyre also disappeared behind the door.
Feeling ten instead of thirty, after another silent minute she pounced on the old Hunter and buried herself in his arms. “Oh, that was so gross. Why did you take so long?”
“Well,” Came the contrite explanation. “Señor Creepy has a serious grudge against the Belmonts, and I've been warned to not give him any excuse to act on that. I was hoping he'd get bored if I didn't play. I'm sorry he touched you, Yoko.”
She shrugged and released the Hunter. “No harm, no foul... Next time it's fireballs first though.” Julius followed her back into the kitchen as she continued. “I can't believe how easy it is for that creepy Vampyric Force of Will to overtake your own. There's no way to mentally prepare for that.”
The Hunter grunted his agreement. “It's something you can only learn to resist through experience. Back in my ancestor's days they would send young Hunters after the newly turned or sired to get a feel for what the seduction was like. Baby vamps aren't born with the instinct to use that force, it's something they learn with practice like any adolescent, which made them good practice for hunting a full grown one. Fortunately there really haven't been too many baby Vampyres born to this world in the past century The only drawback being you've no way to build up a resistance to that will they exert.”
She pondered the Hunter's words while watching him finish up layering the pasta dish. Come to think of it, she hadn't seen a real full blooded Vampyre outside the creep in all her travels for the Church. Not even a Dhampyre other than Alucard. “Are they not procreating? I thought life always found a way. Even quasi-life.”
“Dracula's partial resurrection was defeated back during World War two, and completely in 1999. With the Castle more or less up for grabs I can't imagine what few full blooded Vampyres are left would want the competition. They are slow to mature anyway. Their power grows with time and it is a great risk to sire a new Vampyre, as the inexperienced one can draw unwanted attention or expose the ancient one to the Church or a Hunter. Ones near as old as Alucard blend like he does. They are difficult to detect as their blood lust calms with age. They can go long times between feedings and hunt selectively. Or if they've spent a century or two dabbling in human affairs and attained wealth they can make mutually beneficial arrangements for their meals, if they're careful.”
Her eyebrows climbed sharply. “Would anybody really take money from a Vampyre for their blood? What's the guarantee they won't be overcome with hunger and drain you?”
“It's a risk, but money talks, so they say. Yes, I have seen such arrangements in the past. And so have you, Yoko. How do you think Alucard stays fed?”
“Oh my god. Who is he snacking on for cash like a blood prostitute? A crimson lady of the night?” She paused, thinking of the brunette in the hospital bed. “A scarlet rent-boy?”
“In these matters it is where the nature of our relationship becomes muddy. He has been a great aid to the Church and mankind as a whole so the Belmonts have more or less kept our mouths shut about him. As have Belnades, the Graves, Baldwins, the Lecardes and the Morris families. But I am aware of what he is. He has hunted and killed long in the past, and he has turned a human once. These are facts I cannot ignore. It's a matter of weighing the continued good against the risks. I... would like to trust that in his older and wiser state, he has control over his hunger and the desire to sire more of his kind. I very much would like to repay his efforts on our behalf with kindness.”
“Why do I get the feeling you're telling me all this for a reason outside of an informative lecture?”
“Because you're an intelligent woman, Yoko, and I'm not getting any younger. Today you came face to face with what the true nature of a Vampyre is. A melting pot of anger, hunger and desire and very little self control. Never forget how easy it is for a creature like that to overtake and overwhelm you. Never forget how easy it could be for a Vampyre to manipulate all those around you.”
“I don't think I could forget what just happened here even if I wanted to.”
“Well...” Julius hesitated but forged on regardless. “What I'm trying to say is... Never forget that Alucard is also a Vampyre. Half or not. He is an ancient one, and his powers have grown far passed some of the full blooded ones out in the world. He chooses to be who he is now, but he could have just as easily become Joachim.”
“He is our friend, though.” She felt the need to stress. This whole conversation was starting to make her almost as sick as the Vampyre molesting she'd just endured.
“He has been a good friend. Hopefully he will always be. I want you to remember today Yoko and never lose your vigilance when in the presence of Vampyre. Or Dhampyre. It is probably too late for me to get married and have children, and I may be the last Belmont Hunter to hold this whip. When I die, I take the combined knowledge and experience of a millennia of Belmonts with me. Someone has to take my place watching the world and reminding our half human friend he is half human. Someone has got to train and teach the next generation of Hunters. I'd feel a sense of peace knowing that someone was you.”
“Well, shit.” She squirmed under those intense blue eyes. What a fucking emotional roller coaster today has turned out to be. The Hunter's words and trust settled like a warm little ball of comfort in her stomach, and suddenly she was crying again. Just little unstoppable tears that escaped the corners of her eyes. Yoko Belnades knew she was a competent sorceress and able to hold her own, but in thirty years of life no one had ever been so proud to believe in her. Even if she didn't like hearing the lesson he was trying to teach, she understood why it needed to be taught, and felt pride that he had chosen her to learn it. “I better finish up transcribing these symbols if I'm going to fit in some more lectures of yours.”
Julius smiled warmly and she picked up her pen.
Chapter 7: Beginnings
Chapter Text
October 1476 ~ Vlad's Cemetery East the Sunken City of Poltergeists
The world outside the former laboratory where his mother had once mixed up tinctures for the sick had grown rank and diseased. Unabating gusts of wind tore dead leaves and thistles from dead and dying trees as easily as brown blades of grass from the earth. The field where the lab had once stood before it was sunk along with the nearby city now housed an untended cemetery, long overrun with poisonous weeds and creeping vines. It seemed over the many years since his father stuck him down the Count had abandoned even the basic regard of a burial for the dead. Truly the cemetery had also been a show of power, for every tombstone showed a victory of Dracula's rage and a warning to the frightened humans. But at the very least the dead were not left to rot in the open air. Not like the carrion picked at corpses he could witness below. In the light of the moon he could see the sky was black with ravens and crows and bats. Closer to the earth was a cloud of flies, feeding frenziedly upon what little the scavengers had left. Desecrated corpses poisoned by the Curse spreading over the land pulled themselves from graves or piles to shuffle aimlessly in search of something their liquefying brains could not recall. Carried far along that ceaseless ominous wind were the cries of the night hoards, lesser demons in search of human flesh to rend from bones. Other then demons and the carrion that fed on what the hoard left in it's wake, not a sign of life was to be found in this overrun graveyard. It was here in the writhing resting place of the dead and all those trapped between death and life that he descent from the skies to feed.
He chose to hunt oversized owls he spotted instead of the crows, once the only birds found haunting these grounds, as their size meant less work for more blood. They made a foul first meal in which to break his decades long fast, as was to be expected. Animal blood was at the best of times only a stop-gap. A means to stop deterioration, and nothing more. If his father could see the state of him now, hunched over and feeding on a wild animal like a Vampyre first coming into his fangs, how he'd sneer. It couldn't be helped. Desperate times, desperate measures and all that. With four large fowl to clutch in his claws, he took flight back towards the cave, leaving the desolate madness of the night to run it's course.
His unceremonious return elicited a bit of panic from the small boy now only garbed in a worn oversized night shirt, red-gold ringlets of hair swinging wildly as he trailed his eyes after the large bat. Only when Alucard lay his prey by the fire and revert to his chosen dark haired illusion of a man did the boy settle down, returning to alternate between stirring pots of boiled garments, soiled bandages, brewing potions, and finally a vegetable stew. From out of the shadows in a nightshirt similar to the boy's, Grant appeared to take the owls, thanking the Dhampyre for the first taste of meat they'd had in a week, before moving off to the side to pluck feathers and spill entrails. This left Alucard alone with the diminutive boy who spoke so little, the Dhampyre was unsure how to start a conversation. Silent, he watched the boy work slicing herbs, aware of the cautionary glances the child would make when he thought the Dhampyre was distracted. It was only when the lad moved to stretch the now cleaned garments across broken pillars to dry did he discover the reason for the boy's unease.
“You are a woman.” He admonished. To find a girl out here in the company of only men was unexpected.
The young woman continued to hang clothes only now she kept her unblinking eyes fixed upon him. Despite her sex, she moved like a man, as if there had been no womanly influence in her life to teach the grace expected of her kind. The frame her worn shirt hung on was narrow, shoulders and hips equal length across, and her breasts small enough to overlook unless one was expecting them to be there. Nothing about this woman was soft, save for her eyes when she had tended to the Hunter. Physically she was nothing like his mother. Lisa had on the surface at least, been the epitome of what a woman of her time was expected to be. Modestly dressed, polite, and matronly. Of course beneath that she had been driven to knowledge her fellow men condemned her for, spoke her mind when womenfolk were expected to hold their tongues in the presence of men's affairs, and refused to cease the good she was doing because of the fears of uninformed, illiterate old men. Looking at this young woman, he understood why memories of his mother kept coming forward. Had Lisa been able to be who she wanted to be without the influence of the Church she had grown under, what stood before him now was the woman his mother had meant to be.
“I am.” The young woman finally answered with a hint of an accent, finishing up her task. “I must ask your forgiveness. Alucard, yes?”
He nodded to show she had gotten his name correct. The Hunter too spoke with an accent, though his was much thicker than that of this woman's, clearly stemming from a different dialect. “Forgiveness for what?”
“For my ingratitude, and my manners.” She explained. “You've done us a great favour offering this food and medicine and a place of respite and I haven't even properly introduced myself.”
“You've done nothing that needs to be forgiven.” He said softly. “I understand your unease around me and I do not hold it against you. It is wise to be vigilant.”
Nodding, the young woman stirred her numerous pots a few more times before finally closing the distance between them. Similar to Grant she held out an open palm, her hands so small and delicate one of his own could have easily engulfed both of them. He took her hand gently, aware of her frayed nerves, deciding against the traditional kiss of hand to shake it as he would any man's, treating her as an equal. Her response was to share a small warm smile with him, and he knew she was sharp enough to understand his intentions.
“I am Sypha Belnades, a sorceress once employed by the Church, albeit unknowingly. I was sent to Wallachia with a group of priests a long time ago. We encountered a great monster on the way to the Castle with a large eye whose gaze turned my companions into stone. I... suffered the same fate. Trevor and Grant released me from my sentence when they defeated the demon.”
“A cyclops.” He supplied.
“I wish to tell you this because I want you to know that I was part of one of those groups you warned Trevor about. One of those who have tried and failed before him. As was Grant.” Blue eyes burned with quiet conviction. “We may have failed, but we are here to keep resisting until there is no fight left in us. If my death helps rid this land of the Curse Dracula has placed upon it, it is a price I pay willingly.”
“Your determination is quite evident, Sypha Belnades, as well as encouraging.”
“As is the kindness you display, Alucard. I do not know why you've turned your back on the one that sired you, but I will welcome your help in making sure Trevor reaches the Count's throne room. These are desperate times...” She trailed off, echoing his earlier thoughts, returning to the tasks set before her.
Silence now comfortable, he continued to be fascinated by the domesticity on display. Medicines and salves were set away from the fire to cool, chunks of owl flesh were roasted by the fireside before being added to the stewed vegetables, sanitized bandages were hung to dry with clothing, medicine was returned to for bottling or thickening into a paste. The Dhampyre watched Grant with great interest construct a sort of box out of wood and metal he found laying around to trap the smoke from the fire within. Once finished, he placed strips of the remaining bird flesh inside, explaining how the process was drying the meat out so that it could be saved for later in the journey. Sypha checked the gauze tied around Grant's wounds, unwinding some to spread her salves as needed. Once satisfied she peered over at the Dhampyre, her eyes falling to the burns the Vampyre Killer had left on his flesh. Curious, he removed his shirt and she went to work, dabbing lightly at the blood so as not to get any on herself, and applied the same salve she had to Grant. The cool tingle was soothing against his fired flesh, as was the snug bandages that followed.
“That should do it.” She announced, finished. “Now, Grant, could you wake Trevor? I've warmed a bucket of water for him to bathe. Tell him he clean his wounds carefully or there's no point in applying any medicine.”
Before the older man could answer Alucard rose to his feet. “I will rouse him. You should rest while you can.” He paused only long enough to see if the duo accepted his reasoning, almost convincing himself he was just being helpful and not selfish. You are supposed to be trying to keep a safe distance. The rational side of his mind scolded. You think just because you haven't bitten him yet you've some newfound control over your blood lust. It's sheer luck. No matter what you think you want, this will not last. You are not human, and sooner or later the 'friendly Vampyre' these humans are growing to accept will too see you for what you are should you keep testing this luck. “But what if I could become human enough?” He whispered to the sleeping body he now looked down upon, wondering seriously what that might entail. Perhaps this partnership could teach him?
Still... These humans are in a fight for their lives and I have joined their cause. The stakes are too high for me to be distracted by these strange feelings and desires.
Quiet and still below, wrapped snugly in the Dhampyre's black cloak, the Hunter offered no solution to the turmoil he so casually had caused. Idiotically, Alucard reached down to lay his hand against Trevor's throat, a gentle recreation of the chokehold he had managed to get the Hunter into earlier that night. Every slow beat of the Hunter's heart pulsed under his palm, but the touch was not enough, so he traced the tendons he found there to the collarbone, frozen briefly with indecision before his white hand slid below the hem of his cloak to feel the bare muscle hidden. He found Trevor's skin to be nearly as pale as his own where dust and grime had been kept from it, and for some reason that sameness pleased him enough that he wanted to compare more, to see just how similar a man and a Vampyre could be. Partially pulling the cloak back shocked him for only a moment but then the bare flesh exposed to him made sense, given Sypha's laundry load. With the Hunter's entire upper body on display, it was too easy to indulge and he did, running a hand down the closest strong arm to feel the small hills of relaxed muscle, sliding his own long fingers along and between Trevor's when he reached the end. He circled a sharp hipbone with his index finger thoughtfully before following the sharp diagonal cuts nearby with both hands, taking a moment to delight in the discovery that he was almost certain his hands could completely encircle the Hunter's narrow waist. Naturally the faint abdominal muscle lines begged to traced next as did the faintly visible ribs, the poor hungry thing. Only as his palms slid up the smooth flesh to rest between pectoral muscles, smugly satisfied that outwardly he wasn't so different from the human, did he finally grasp some sense of self control.
What are you doing? Exactly what part of this indulgence benefits anything other then your own selfish perversions?
Slightly ashamed of how easily he fell back into old patterns, he worked quickly to make the Hunter decent again before attempting to wake him with a gentle shake. Trevor slept soundly through each marginally rougher attempt. Concerned, he reached out to touch the man's forehead as Sypha had, as his mother would have, and he found the flesh still too warm to the touch, even for a human. Uncertain of the right course of action, he wrapped the man more tightly in his cloak, fighting to keep one long toned leg from slipping free. “You're making this very difficult for me.” He told the sleeping Hunter, gathering him up into his arms to return to the fire.
Trevor curled into him as he knelt by Sypha for the Mage to examine him. “He does not wake.” He explained, surprised at the alarm in his voice.
Small hands were quick to check temperature and pulse but despite her earlier fussing over the Hunter's condition, the sorceress did not seem anywhere near as concerned as he felt. She sat back on her haunches and gave him a small reassuring smile. “It has been a lengthy, frustratingly slow journey.” Began the Mage in an unhurried tone. “We move at night because we cannot rest with the hoards out on the hunt, but every step towards the Castle is a fight through warped beasts and monsters. What little ground we cover takes everyone of us giving everything we have each night. Look at the state Grant and I are in, and we have only journeyed through these lands.” Her delicate fingers brushed the hair from the sleeping Hunter's brow before she resumed her tale. “He told me he'd been summoned back to this place all the way from France, pregnant wife and two babies in tow. A very long way to travel for a single man, let alone one with a family. I'm not sure whether it was on the trek here or shortly after, but his wife fell ill and passed on from consuming a diseased fruit. A product of your father's Curse. So after such a hard march through foreign lands to be here, suffering the death of a wife and unborn child he's had no time to grieve for, and being forced to abandon his two baby boys to fight tooth and nail through the night hoards on this dire march towards certain death... Having this knowledge now, are you so surprised exhaustion has finally overtaken him?”
“No.” He admitted, trying to fathom what anguish the death of a child could cause. The Hunter had also mentioned the tragedy earlier before their duel, but he had been so focused upon trying to get the humans to leave he hadn't really registered what was being said.
“Still... As much as he needs sleep we must clean him up and get some food in his belly.” Sypha sighed.
“I can teach you the fastest and near full-proof trick to rousing any man, if you'd like.” Grant offered with a chuckle.
“Oh?” The Mage quirked an eyebrow, waiting patiently for the rogue to share his quick, magickal fix.
Procuring one of the small wooden bowls from nearby, the lanky man spooned out a few scoops of broth from the stew and with a small flourish for showmanship's sake, waved the steaming bowl beneath the sleeping Hunter's nose. As if by the magick the older man proclaimed it was, the Hunter's eyes begun to flutter as he struggled for consciousness.
“Whatever that is, I want it.” Trevor murmured groggily.
“Fascinating.” Alucard exclaimed. Still cradled in his arms, he watched the recently comatose Hunter reach out to snatch Grant's bowl before the old rogue could pull it away. He downed broth in a single gulp, looking forlorn at the now empty piece of wood in his hands. “So the promise of food both puts you to sleep and rouses you.”
“Are you writing a book or something?” The Hunter snapped, fighting to escape his arms. “Let go.”
The Dhampyre complied, confused over the Hunter's sudden annoyance, but not wanting to add to whatever the source was. Trevor spilled from his arms rather ungracefully, eager to inspect the simmering pot by the fire. He froze midstep to catch the cloak that nearly slipped from his body, the realization that he was nude beneath the fabric slowly coming to dawn on him. Now still as a statue, he clutched the cloak to his body in a desperate attempt to maintain modesty, cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink with every passing second. “Who undressed me?” The question was barely a whisper.
Grant responded with a wide grin and pointed a thumb in Sypha's direction. “Who else would do such a thing?”
“Why did you undress me?”
Now it was the Mage's turn to respond with a wide grin. It was the first unguarded expression the Dhampyre had seen on her face. “I was washing our clothes and it was silly to do the same task twice. So I undressed you. Do not be so scandalized, Trevor Belmont. I have seen more than my fair share of bare-assed men. I didn't stare.” Smile turning wolfish, she added “Much.”
“This is highly... improper.” The Hunter stressed, face flushed almost crimson.
“The world is highly improper.” Retorted the Mage, now cackling like a witch from an old cautionary tale.
Alucard sat back with an uncertain smile on his lips, mesmerized by the antics before him. One minute the woman is telling him a tragic tale about her companion, words and expression heavy with sorrow and sympathy, so that he could better understand the impossible burden placed on such a young man's shoulders and with the next breath she was howling with laughter over the same man's modesty. Forget the hoards of demons out roaming the night skies, these people right here were the real insanity in the world.
“Go wash the shame from your face, dear boy.” The woman still laughed, gesturing to the bucket of hot water she had prepared for him. “And make certain to properly clean those wounds so my hard work and medicine will better take effect. Use the laboratory room if you are so keen to keep that modesty of yours.” With perfect timing, she held her tongue until the embarrassed Hunter had just disappeared into the lab before calling out. “Let me know if you need me to wash your back.”
“I will not!” The Hunter retorted from out of sight.
“Honestly, it's the end of the world and he is still capable of worrying about if his stockings will peek out of his skirt. It's downright precious.” Sypha mused.
“I think he becomes so flustered because he is starting to fancy you, sorceress.” Grant suggested, but the Mage only snorted.
“I am much too carnal in nature for our dear Hunter. He may not subscribe to the sentiments nor ideas of the Church, but their morals have still shaped him into a delicate little flower concerning these basic human nature affairs.” She said with a sigh before turning to the Dhampyre. “You seem quite interested in this topic, Alucard.”
Blinking with confusion it took him a moment to realized he was leaning forward in rapt attention, and he straightened up more respectfully. Perhaps he did belonged in the company of these insane humans for even though he had also now heard the tragic tale of Trevor's journey to Wallachia mere moments before, like the cackling sorceress, he'd moved from sympathy one moment to what was now a state of mind fascinatingly close to understanding the nature of his newfound appetite. Sypha's off hand assessment of the young Hunter as a virginal flower ripe for the picking had ignited a slow burn in his guts. He'd leaned in closer because he wanted her to divulge more. He wanted that fire inside to grow but he had no idea how to go about that... But the sorceress apparently did. “I have never heard such talk before.” He confessed, hoping his ignorance would explain his behaviour. Really, he wondered how he could even broach the questions on his mind. It wasn't like he could just straight up ask the woman if she had an idea what exactly his unfamiliar human instincts were trying to get him to do about the magnetic Hunter. Could he?
“Then you're in for a treat, new friend.” Grant declared. “I've never met a more candid person in my life when it comes to talking about bedroom affairs then our Sypha here. Some pious Church affiliate you've turned out to be, girl.”
The Mage rolled her eyes. “A matter of convenience. Dangerous men rarely think to check right under their noses for the people they are persecuting.”
“You're going to Hell, girl. But at least you'll be in good company.” The sorceress was once more beset with laughter, and she raised a carved wooden cup of tea high to knock against the one Grant had lifted.
“Nobody is going to Hell on my watch.” Announced Trevor returning to the fire. He was still tightly wound in Alucard's cloak but his visible skin was clean, long hair still dripping rivulets down the thick velvet fabric. “So don't make any plans just yet.”
“Well if you are going to insist.” The Mage conceded, beckoning him closer with a wave of her hand. “Come, let's inspect those gashes and wrap up what we must.”
Face still slightly tinged pink, the Hunter allowed her access to his flesh as needed to mend and bandaged what wounds required attention. Alucard tried not to stare, counting down odd and varying lengths of time before he deliberately changed his focus to the fire or his own hands. A private little game to pass the time. One measured glance away was to the leather rucksack he correctly assumed to be Trevor's. No nightshirt like the ones owned by his companions seemed to be waiting for the Hunter to be changed into, so it appeared the only garments the Hunter owned were stretched out between the pillars, still drying. He waited for Sypha to finish giving the young man a thorough once over before he reached for his own discarded shirt.
“For your modesty.” He offered, pressing the shirt into the Hunter's hands. Sypha snorted more laughter, and although Trevor blushed furiously he accepted the garment and donned it immediately. It hung shorter than the long sleep shirts the other humans wore, but Alucard was much larger than the Hunter so it did the job well enough.
“Thank you.” Trevor grit out, buttoning the shirt just passed part way. He took a place by the fire down on the velvet cloak, unaware of the eroticism he exuded, with shirt clinging to damp skin where it touch his chest and thighs, pale flesh glistening over the pronounced muscle moving below as the Hunter combed fingers through his long tresses fireside, in an effort to dry them. Never had a creature donned in such simplicity looked so exquisite. So inviting to touch. Knowing it was his shirt that clung precariously in parts to that flesh only added more sticks to the growing blaze in his belly. This Trevor Belmont was going to burn every part of him up in no time.
A piping hot mug of tea was offered, pulling his attention away from the seductive distraction. “Oh, thank you.” He managed to get out, accepting and studying the concoction in his hands.
“You are welcome, Alucard.” Grant replied. “I wasn't sure if Vampyre's could consume our food or drink.”
“I can.” He informed. “Food does not seem to be necessary, but the taste is sometimes enjoyable. I have taken great pleasure from mulled wine and fine teas of in the past. A cold glass of water was always refreshing in the early evening as well.” He politely refused to partake in the offered bowl of stew, sipping the herbal tea instead. “I have already eaten my fill.” He watched the Hunter forgo a spoon in lieu of simply drinking from the bowl, one hand still fanning chestnut locks by the fire. “Careful.” He warned as an errant spark nearly set the Hunter's hair alight. “Perhaps you should focus on one thing at a time.”
“I do what I please.” Trevor said defiantly.
After being subjected to such petulance the Dhampyre couldn't help but ask. “How many winter's have you seen, Hunter?”
“Twenty come the new year.”
A few months left to go then. “That explains so much.” He stated simply, eliciting yet more snickering from Sypha as well as the elder rogue.
Trevor narrowed his pale blue eyes, crossing arms to properly glare at the Dhampyre. If only he could see how the kneeling stance accentuated the slender beauty of his form, the Hunter would be reaching for the cloak to cover up with in a flash. “Since you'd like to get personal, I've been meaning to ask how you earned that scar.”
Alucard touched a hand to the jagged raised flesh that angled his torso. There was no other scar the Hunter could be asking about. “By doing what I please.” He answered, chuckling at the private joke. Toying with the idea of divulging the whole truth he glanced around the fire at his new companions. This night of respite was turning into a new beginning for him. Their influence already set to remould him into... He wasn't quite sure what, but he felt it was better than what he had been. Tomorrow he would leave his hiding place alongside these three with only the bond they were forging to keep them going. “Actually,” They... deserved to know. He was not so different from them after all. “I did not earn this. It is a painful lesson in futility my father cut into my flesh for thinking I could challenge him on my own and succeed. He struck me down, and I barely made my way back here alive... So harsh was this lesson that I have been here recovering for nearly thirty years.” Yellow eyes passed over every concerned face before he turned fully towards the sorceress and the rogue, his words meant to comfort, unite, and empower them. “So you see, I too have tried and failed to stop Dracula. But here I am, like you, willing to die trying again.” He let a small smile touch his lips. “At least I'll be in a good company on my way to Hell, should it come to that.”
“Nobody is going to Hell on my watch.” Trevor reiterated, pretty eyes poleaxing him. “Not witch, cut-throat thief, or night-walking blood sucker. Not unless I send them there.” The fire in those blue orbs died as quickly as they had blazed, leaving only unfathomable empty windows on the face of a visibly exhausted shell. “Even if it exists, good people don't go there, no matter who, what or where you came from. It's a fairytale scare tactic for pampered fat old men to line their pockets with uneducated parishioner gold and point their fingers at innocent people they don't understand or agree with and... I... I'm sorry.” The Hunter murmured, standing. “The only place we're going is the Sunken City tomorrow. Thank you all for taking care of things while I was unconscious. The food, the laundry, the medicine... Forgive me for not being of much help. Rest well... I... I'm afraid I need to lie down again.”
The remaining three watched the Hunter gather the cloak from the ground and pad silently on bare feet to the open sarcophagus. The brunette was gone all too soon, hidden behind ornately carved stone and gold gilded adornments. Subdued, the humans finished their meal with few words and turned into their bedrolls for sleep, all trace of merriment gone.
Alucard sat thoughtfully in the ensuing gloom, watching the fire ebb down, ears trained to the near silent private sobs coming from the sarcophagus. The Dhampyre ran through the evening over and over again in his mind, believing by the end of the most recent comb through that he was at peace with the decision to throw his lot in with this ragtag band. They were nothing like the shining knights on white horses riding off the slay dragons in his old picture books. These humans were flawed, each one of them an affront to polite society and in peaceful times likely to be run out of town. They worked somehow because of this. United misfits that had welcomed a Dhampyre into their ranks, spearheaded by a tragic child putting on a brave face so he could spare his own babies from burden of Belmont blood. Desperate times indeed.
Still as the night, he watched the dying flames until the last embers grew cold, and the Hunter's tears finally ran out.
Chapter 8: The Sunken City
Chapter Text
October 1476 ~ Lost City of Poltergeists
The waning moon was the first to greet the silent party as they climbed from out the depths of the humid cave. Night Autumn air, chilled both by the weather and the unnatural presence of phantoms, raised gooseflesh and stole breath from the humans though they moved forward undeterred. From all around and out the murk came the stirring noises of the dead and demons, the frigid winds carrying the scent of the living, fresh blood and flesh, to the hungry inhabitants. Instinctively Alucard reached for the hilt of the sword he'd had to abandon in his flight from his father's castle, and he missed the weight and the comfort of the weapon at his side. Instead he flexed clawed hands in the dark, wishing earnestly he'd regained enough strength during his slumber to change his form into that of a warg. These pathetic pointed ovals of a Dhampyre would hardly make a significant difference in a fight, and the only throats his shortened fangs could easily tear were those of his companions. Hardly productive, that.
He was the last to follow the Hunter's lead out onto the precarious footing of crumbling city walls and the roofs of submerged buildings they would need to traverse this cursed place. Keeping pace behind Sypha was easy given how cautiously she moved, trailing well enough behind Trevor to both avoid any ambush the Hunter might walk into yet still be close enough to quickly come to his aid. Grant had vanished into the overhanging vines and gnarled branches as soon as he'd found a tree to his liking, a watchful scout that shadowed the Hunter. It was obvious how they'd wordlessly fallen into rank that this was a practised method of travel built from their long trek to his cavern. He supposed it was up to him to decide how he best fit in so he chose to stay as he already was. A rear guard of sorts... He was still weak, after all. Perhaps being a sacrificial lamb for anything seeking to harm the Mage was best suited. Speaking of strength, it seemed a solid rest and a full belly had worked wonders for the trio. Even the Hunter's fever had all but dissipated, though he'd still been scolded by Sypha not to overexert himself. Alucard envied that. How quick and simply mortals could pull themselves back together like that with no more than a single uninterrupted sleep and a bowl of watery stew.
Plodding and scurrying noises, much closer now then when they'd first stepped out into the night, quickly reminded him that the Sunken City was no place to let your mind wander to the point of distraction. Nowhere was these days. Steps ahead, Sypha picked up her pace and his ears trained to the whisper of a growl around the bend of the narrow stone, to a rooftop hidden behind the fallen pillar of an ancient church. Upon reaching that rotting rooftop did he finally realize what Sypha had been referring to when she spoke of their journey thus far. Every step was a battle. A slow tiring press against the hoards of the night. The smell of the living human flesh was too great a draw, and as the winds carried their scent the mer-creatures and the undead responded in droves, clawing their way to the surface of the murky lake bed. He almost didn't believe the great numbers of them before his eyes, but there was no time to stand awestruck by how far the lands of Wallachia had fallen as he was beset upon by dozens of mermen's slimy webbed hands with their thin razor nails, and the oiled masses of fire the foul things coughed up.
With claws and fire of his own he managed to keep from being swarmed, doing his best to keep up with the group as Trevor never stopped pressing forward. The Hunter couldn't afford to when the mass was endless and to stop was to be overwhelmed.
“You use magick as well.” Sypha observed, speaking through grit teeth. They stood back to back having been cut off and driven into a corner.
“Not as well as you, it would seem.” He admitted with a blow to his pride. “Should we survive the night I would be honoured if you'd share some of your secrets. This does not seem to tire you as easily as it does I.” Another wave of fireballs cleared the way on his side and he spared no moment to pull the Mage along with him before the mermen could regroup. Hand in hand he raced through the hoard dodging swipes and attempts to grab hold of them, yanking Sypha this way and that along with him.
“You run faster than I” Sypha granted him, as she struggled to keep up his pace.
Trevor was out of sight which could only mean they were truly cut off at the moment. The failure stung and would again when he had to face the Hunter and admit a bunch of brainless lake beasts had momentarily gotten the better of a Dhampyre, but not as much as being torn to shreds would. “Forgive me, we've not the luxury.” He half explained, scooping her small frame up into his arms. The throngs ahead of them were growing, he still couldn't see the Hunter or the Rogue over the heads of the creatures, and still more climbed out of the dark waters into their path with every passing second.
Alucard used every ounce of his strength to move, vaulting and dodging in an effort to catch up before there was nowhere left to run. Sypha did not struggle in his arms, allowing his Vampyric speed to cover greater distance than she could on her own, instead focusing her destructive capabilities to cut the pathway ahead. At the top of a large flight of stairs they were met with a particularly large hoard of mermen and reanimated corpses, the largest gathering they'd faced yet. In the midst of the bloodthirsty group, facing off against an unusually large lesser demon, was the Hunter.
With an unearthly glow the Vampyre Killer sliced the sky again and again, felling undead and creature alike with every thunderous lash out into the night. Though surrounded, nothing seemed capable of crossing the circular space the hunter had cut out for himself as he sidestepped the lesser demon. Yet Trevor did not advance against his opponent. It appeared as if he was... holding the line. Waiting? Alucard set Sypha down and twisted the neck near clean off the closest merman. From behind he heard Sypha call out to the Hunter, static energy building between her hands. Trevor responded with a sharp high pitched whistle before he flipped rather gracefully given the circumstances up along shattered columns of increasing height. Down from the trees came knives tossed almost mathematically into the hoard before a rusted axe, picked up from the refuse of the city no doubt, sunk heavily into the neck of the overgrown demon. When Sypha urged him behind her he'd barely the time to comply before sparks stretched out from her fingertips. Using the metal and the moisture of the mermen's skin as a conduit, blinding tendrils of lightning curled through the crowd, smoking corpses falling in it's wake. Upon striking the axe the snarling demon was torn wide open from neck to chest, an easy target for the blessed whip of the Hunter. In short order the hoard and even the demon lay still, smouldering.
“Impressive.” He admonished.
“The lightning tires me.” Sypha responded seemingly out of breath.
From high above what accounted to the bones of four skeletal warriors clattered down, startling them. “Up here.” Called down Grant from where the ivory had plummeted.
Trevor smiled at Sypha as he spread his arms. “Rude to ignore an invitation.” The Hunter quipped. With a flick of the wrist his whip caught the iron of a gate above, and he waited for Sypha to gather the knives and climb the pillars to his side, holding fast to Trevor before he started to ascend.
Alucard shifted into the form of a bat and met them at the top. It seemed here they were high enough for the humans to catch their breath, as the mermen could not scale brick. Sypha and Grant squatted down, the Mage returning the Rogue's blades with an appreciative grin, whilst Trevor leaned against the iron bars.
“How are you holding up?” The Hunter inquired after the Mage. “That was the most lightning I think you've conjured up yet.”
“It was.” Sypha admitted with a pleased laugh. “I may have overdone it, however. We've still a long night ahead and I am just about spent.” Turning, she directed her grin towards Alucard. “What I wouldn't give for even a bit of your Vampyric stamina right about now.”
I've hardly pulled my weight... He said nothing, giving her only a tight smile in reply. He turned from the humans to look out over the city below. There indeed was a great distance yet to cover. Too far to travel in the span of this night at the rate they were forced to move. The massive cities of the past were sprawling things, and this particular city had been a great gathering place in it's prime. Once home to scholars and artisans, this place had been full to the brim of churches and libraries and other places of such scholarly pursuits. He recalled walking the market square in the late evening as a boy alongside his mother, marvelling at the endless crafts on display and running through the winding streets as Lisa chased after him. Back then it seemed the city streets went on forever. Now their size was disheartening rather than awe-inspiring. The expanse of rotting brick and rusting iron would be an arduous and long trek, which meant at some point in this deadly place they would have to find a semblance of shelter. Not exactly a comforting thought.
“I'm glad you stayed together. I'd just sent Grant to backtrack and find you two... You worried me when we got separated.” The Hunter continued with a relieved sigh. “There are even more of those gillmen than I thought possible. They closed in behind me before I realized you'd been cut off.”
“I've a capable bodyguard alongside me now. Alucard has some mastery over the arcane as well, it seems. And he just about twisted one of those water beast's heads right off.”
The compliments from the Mage washed over him uncomfortably. It was strange to hear a human sing his praises. Especially praise he did not feel he'd earned. Eager to shift the topic away from his battle prowess or lack there of he pointed to a tall spiral jutting out at an angle in the far distance. “This city is grand in scale. We will not make it through in one night fighting through these beasts. There are too many of them out there, but at least they do not seem capable of climbing great heights. Do you think we could make it to that tower by sunrise?”
Trevor came to his side to study the lay of the land ahead. After a few moments to ruminate he nodded. “I think so. We can follow this pathway down to the market square. It could take more time in some places to stick to the higher buildings but it's worth it. There's so bloody many of those god damned fish men.” The Hunter made a sudden sharp turn to him, as if a thought had just struck him. “My family has compiled a bestiary over several centuries starting in the eleventh century with my ancestor Leon Belmont. Leon wrote that Vampyres thrive in darkness, and one of the two he'd faced early on held a stone that kept his lair in eternal night. He speculated sunlight was harmful to your kind yet my mother's additional notes say that daylight doesn't kill Vampyres. What would happen to you if we do not make it that tower come daybreak?”
He spared a moment to tip a metaphorical hat to the Belmont that came before. “Your mother is quite correct. Sunlight does not kill my kind. But it does rob us of our strength and of our powers. Even powerful Vampyres can do little more than cast and maintain the most minor of illusions, usually to appear living until they can find a place to hide away. Lesser ones often are paralyzed, all control of their limbs leached away by the sunlight, but not killed. They are quite easy to destroy in such a state, as you can imagine.”
“Are you a powerful or a lesser Vampyre?” Trevor asked, no hint of mockery in his tone. There was only curiosity.
Alucard spared a moment again, this time to gather the courage to share a truth he'd spent most of his lifetime hiding. He had always been safer from humans and demons alike when they thought him a full blooded Vamypre and not the weaker abomination he was. “I must confess to you all, my mother was as human as every one of you. I am a Dhampyre. But in me flows the blood of Dracula. So to answer your question, I am capable of functioning far better than most in the daylight but it will still weaken me. This is no place to be traversing in a weakened state so I would prefer... we make it to that tower by sunrise.”
Alucard shifted uncomfortably under the Hunter's intense gaze, fully aware those pretty blue eyes were studying every inch of him under the new light of his revelation. Pale lips parted with a thousand questions on his tongue, but the Hunter regained his focus and returned his eyes to the city below. Instead of pressing the Dhampyre for information on his species he spoke with quiet confidence. “Then we will get to that tower before the night fully ebbs.” With his proclamation he hopped down onto the crumbling top of a wall and set off. Sypha and Grant waved him to follow as they started after Trevor, so he did.
The easy pathway came to an end much quicker than he was prepared for, but there was nowhere else to go but back down to the lower rooftops and creatures waiting. It was far worse in this part of the city. The former market square must have been where the majority of the cities inhabitants had been when the great sea dragon his father's sorcerers had summoned submerged the land, for the spirits of the dead faded in and out of semi-corporeal states, clutching at their arms or legs, beckoning the living to come and join them in their suffering. It was not out of malice but countless years of pitiful loneliness, yet the pulls and trips of the spirits were just as deadly as the beasts they struggled to fight through. Alucard stuck close by Sypha as it became apparent she had not lied about her lightning tiring her. The spells she cast now were selective and few, and more than once did Grant drop from on high to aid their progression. As the night wore on the Rogue began to show signs of exhaustion. No longer could he scout ahead and attack from above, choosing to stick close by Sypha and himself. As a group they closed rank and Alucard admitted to himself that the Mage's earlier compliment about his stamina at least held true. He was in far better condition then either Sypha or Grant.
Only the Hunter seemed to maintain his energy, still leading the group but now also defending them as a whole. It was almost as if the more there was to fight, the more strength the Hunter seemed to gain. It was their duel all over again, only thankfully this time that whip was not calling out for his Dhampyre blood. Only as the gloom of the night sky began to fade into pre-morning light did he manage a moment to assess their progression. The tower was comfortingly close just ahead. He let out his own small sigh of relief and fell in line with Trevor to assault the winged demon that in their way. Feeling rather brazen and in need to prove himself useful to the Hunter, he took off very much a bat out of hell into the snarling hellspawn, shifting back into his form at the last moment in time for his weight to throw the creature off it's course, the claws he had earlier dismissed slicing into demon flesh. Hand now inside the demon and closing tight on it's larynx, he used the grip to swing around onto it's back, slashing out with the other hand at the webbing of it's wings. Together, demon and Dhampyre crashed into the ground below, and with all his strength he pulled the demon back, exposing it's tender underbelly to the Hunter. Trevor didn't need an invitation to dispatch the demon. Alucard licked at the blood on his hand, as the demon burned up from the whip's holy power, testing lesser demon blood as a source of sustenance. He pulled a face and sighed again. It was little better than the blood of animals. But at least the option was there, he supposed.
“Not to your liking, I take it?” Trevor asked causing Alucard to start.
He avoided the Hunter's gaze, ashamed he had so mindlessly tasted blood before his human companions. Succumbing to animalistic urges like that could only serve to cement in their minds he was no different than the things they battled each night. “It will do in a pinch.” He replied as a means to end the conversation quickly. “Come, we are almost there.” True enough in no time at all they had climbed and hopped enough stone and pillars to reach the safety of the tower's top floor. From there they watched the sun crest the horizon, driving the mermen and the dead back below the murky waves for protection. Far out in the distance a long guttural wail echoed off of the abandoned buildings, a chilling final rage against the sun.
Trevor set down the bulk of their gear to better root through the bags for kindling and flint, having already broken up the remains of an ancient bed frame for firewood. Alucard reassessed the Hunter as he worked. Not only did the boy lead the charge and break trail, defending his companions through the armies of darkness without rest all night, he'd done so while also acting as the groups pack mule, for lack of a better term. Those Belmonts truly were built sturdier than appearances betrayed. “Beyond these ruins lies a village called Yomi. I've some gold on me.” He started to explain, drawing the Hunter's attention. “I can buy a pack and take some of that load off of you. It's the least I can do.”
“I'm all right.” Trevor answered. “But I won't say no.”
“Might as well put this Vampyric stamina to use.” He mused out loud, giving the Mage a small wink.
“Dhampyre.” Trevor corrected, building up the flames. “I've never seen one before. In fact, my family's bestiary has an open entry for your kind. You are a rare species, I gathered.”
Alucard hesitated, contemplating his reply. He'd suspected the Hunter's curiosity would have won out eventually, he'd just hoped it could have been... sometime further along their journey. He wasn't exactly sure what to say, so he combed through vague memories of his father's lectures and offhand remarks for a place to start. “From my understanding there are many Vampyres who view laying with a human in the same light as you humans view one of your own bedding down with their livestock. It is not a universal belief, but it is one that persists. Children of such unions are not regarded favourably and our weakness in comparison to true Vampyres makes us easy targets for hunters and other demons. Hellspawn can be quite cannibalistic towards the more frail of their kind. Survival of the fittest, after all. So no, there are not many like me.”
“You must be pretty tough to still be alive then.” Trevor surmised, and the compliment nearly coaxed a pleased purr from out of him.
“My Father was ample protection when I was but a stripling. He rarely let me out of his sight during the night for the very reasons I just provided. I was an easy snack as a child. Not to mention I had no control over any of my powers and no way to hide what I was from humans or devils alike. Growing Vampyres are insatiably hungry as well, as are Dhampyres. I would have betrayed my heritage in an instant, and drew attention to my Mother's great betrayal to her kind, as it were. My father was very fond of her... He took care of us both as best he could. Striplings grow up however, and a woman like my mother could not be caged for her safety.”
“Dracula does not think of mankind only as chattel?” Sypha wondered out loud, spreading out their bedrolls.
“At the very least he didn't see my mother as only his dinner. He found her his intellectual equal and often was overly affectionate with her in our private chambers. That is what Vampyres search for in a mate, so I was told. When you live for eternity you desire someone who stands on equal ground as you just as surely as they can challenge you. Vampyres may be quite powerful but they still are demons, and demons feed on the weak.”
“Hmm...” Sypha, now settled into her blankets and warming leftover stew by the fireside, knit her brow as she ran through all the new information. “I must ask, how do you feel about mankind, Alucard? Do you believe our only purpose is to sate your appetite, your mother aside? Does the notion of laying with a human sound revolting? I ask because you seemed overly interested in the subject of human... carnal relations yesterday.”
An awkward self conscious twitch pulled at his lips and though he tried valiantly, he failed to keep from glancing at the pretty Hunter, the source of his sudden interest in human... relations. The Hunter was watching him with a raised brow and a brilliant smile, perhaps pleased to not be the one being teased about the subject this time. Again that fire in his gut was stoked into an inferno as he believed Sypha had definitively given him the answer to his fixation on the brunette, as well as his strange appetite. It truly was desire, human and Vampyre. The Hunter was admirable, more than his equal, and challenged him in ways both new and strange. With no room left for doubt, he realized he wanted to... bed the Hunter. But how did one go about doing that? What was the custom or ritual? His eyes lingered on Trevor's as he wrestled with all the new questions he had and the nervous energy of realizing he was out of his depth for the first time in a century and a half. The newness and unpreparedness of his predicament caused the only son of Vlad Dracula Țepeș to suffer for the first time in his long life, the embarrassment of a blush.
“I have never given it much thought until yesterday.” He stammered out. “I knew only that my father loved my mother and I suppose I'd always assumed there must be other humans like her that held desirable traits as mates for my kind. But it is the nature of your coupling that fascinated me.” He continued in a nervous rush, so wholly and completely out of his depth. “I do not know how it is you pair up or whether it is for pleasure or propagation or some combination of both. I mean, I've heard daughters are sometimes sold off like animals? The Noble houses seem to trade their offspring like they are buying a stake in each others business affairs. Some men and women sell their company in back alleys and dark rooms. If it's purely to mate and make more of you, then why sell it? Why do some men or women sneak away to lay with others of the same sex as them? Such unions would bear no children. If it's purely for pleasure, then why the marriages and the chastity and the sneaking around? I don't understand the process.”
He expected the Mage to cackle as she had the other day but she instead surprised him with her compassion on the matter of his glaring lack on insight. “Ahh.” She began while doling out bowls of her stew to the other humans. The trio had gathered around the flame for warmth and to dry their damp clothing while they ate, and Sypha beckoned him closer to join them. Once he took the open space across from her, the too pretty Hunter to his right, did she continue. “Well I can't speak for Nobles as a commoner. But we lower born people fuck for plenty of reasons and in plenty of scenarios. If you live in a small village out in the countryside then you fuck and marry your neighbour because there's no one else around. You fuck them often because your kids make excellent free working hands to help out on the farm or foraging, and since there are so many hardships involved with living outside the cities you may lose a few to sickness or wild animals. If you live in the city, as a woman you may fuck just to have a room to sleep in. As a man you may pay to fuck because you do backbreaking labour from sunrise to sunset and there's not enough marrying kind of women to go around. Or maybe you're the child of a baker or a cobbler and you have the luxury of smiling at the fruit seller next door. It is sensible for you marry because you're close and both established, and everyone around you is happy such nice children will grow up to have even more nice children. Maybe you're an unwed woman coming close to her thirtieth birthday. Can't have those rumours that you may actually be a witch married to Satan growing, so you marry an elderly man, an invalid, or the town drunk to save yourself from a stoning or burning. Maybe you fuck for money because you have the looks or the genitals someone is willing to pay you for. Maybe the Lord in the manor across town has a preference for blondes or brunettes and you fuck because being a mistress or a secret male lover is better than being the Lord's kitchen scullion slave. Strangest of all, sometimes you fuck and get married simply because you've grown attached and even fallen in love with someone, and you just want to fuck them and lay in their arms every night until the end of your days. It's a crazy world, anything can happen.”
“The mouth on you...” Trevor admonished with mouth hanging open, much to Grant's enjoyment.
“You are forgetting the very simple reason most people do the deed.” the Rogue added. “A good fuck can move the very earth itself, and the more you do it the better you get at it, and the happier most people become.”
“Yes, how could I forget? A good fuck makes the flowers smell sweeter and food taste better. A fantastic fuck with with several partners at once...” The Mage left the rest unsaid, though the pleasurable moan she let out spoke more than enough of her opinion on the Roman orgy. Alucard felt that he looked as wide-eyed as Trevor. The Hunter shook his head and seemed to inspect his gear far more intently then needed. “Well, that's just some of the many reasons us common folk come together. You'd have to ask our High-born Hunter here how the rich people fuck.”
Sypha's words faded into a long growing silence, stretching over the end and washing up after their meal, and well into the preparations for the next night before the Rogue and Mage buried themselves in their bedding in an effort to lull themselves to sleep. Alucard realized during this time that Trevor wasn't going to offer anything without more prodding. A small twinge of annoyance had him narrowing his eyes slightly, as quite honestly it was the Hunter's experience in the matter he was most interested in. He turned more fully towards the Hunter's impromptu workstation and made it quite obvious he was staring, even going so far as to rest elbows on knees and chin on clasped hands. Grant chuckled at the display from his bedding but for the longest time it seemed like Trevor was going to maintain the illusion of obliviousness. Unfortunately for the Hunter, the patience of a Dhampyre was not easily overcome.
Finally with an exasperated expel of air Trevor tossed a very flat look his way. “What, Alucard?”
“I am very curious.” He replied simply.
“Well I cannot help you. My family was disgraced and ousted from Romania. My mother had to take me back to France to live with an old Aunt in her estate. I didn't grow up in the courts so I am not familiar with their customs.”
“But you were married, you said.”
“Yes. I know how that came about, but it probably wasn't the usual arrangement.”
“You could share the nature of that arrangement though, yes?”
Trevor folded his arms and downright glared, and although he didn't want to push the Hunter away given how pleasing the prospect of climbing into the vacant bedroll alongside Trevor was growing, Alucard was on the hunt now. He needed to know how a nineteen year old boy had become a married father of two, to a widowed father of three, one deceased. For he wanted to know all there was to know about that pretty face – beautiful even when scowling – and perhaps just maybe, knowing how the late Mrs. Belmont had captured this rare beauty would help the Dhampyre decide how best to make his affections known. “That's private.” Trevor said firmly, shutting down his scheming before he'd fully formed the plan. “I don't see what purpose sharing it serves your pursuit of knowledge concerning our... relations.”
“I am truly interested in that subject.” He agreed, gauging the hostility in the Hunter's heavenly blue eyes. Perhaps in such a situation it is honesty that wins out? I've fallen this far in only a day, haven't I? Clearly I am incapable of maintaining any semblance of distance from him. If he rejects me then perhaps I can put this entire flirtation with my humanity to rest once and for all. It's not like I believe for a second this is going to end well for either of us. Whether through self-sabotage or hopefulness he pressed ahead. “But that's not why I am asking about your past.” He ventured, hoping the Hunter would bite.
Bite he did. “Then why are you asking?”
“I wish to better understand you, Trevor Belmont. I find you fascinating.”
The Hunter snorted disbelievingly. “I am just a man. You are the product of a union between a human woman and the Vampyre tyrant of these lands. I should be saying that to you.”
Alucard spread his hands, accepting the merits of the counterargument. “Would you say that I fascinate you, Trevor Belmont?” He asked wriggling the lure a little closer. The Hunter's glare faltered and deep within the pale pools of his eyes the Dhampyre could practically see his mind working over the question, searching for the danger within the words.
“Academically, I must admit that I do find your very existence... Fascinating.” Trevor answered carefully. He was not pleased when the thoughtful reply widened the grin on the Dhampyre's face.
“Well now. I found you and your convictions and strength rather compelling. You and you alone are what convinced me to aid this assault on my father, but I am not certain exactly what is is about you that inspires me to do better than I have in the past. I yearn to pick your brain and hear your philosophy in hopes that I will come to understand my fascination with you. My inspiration from you. And it seems that you are also interested in myself, both the nature of my being and biology. As we are to do battle with my father, you no doubt have wondered if I've anything at all from the one who sired me, and you'd be correct to assume we share many similarities. You are also in possession of that rather large tome I see there. It has a few empty pages between the covers, so I've heard...” He leaned back on his hands and openly grinned. “You humans do love commerce, do you not? You've built your entire society on the exchange of wants and needs.”
“I see.” Trevor replied after another of his long pauses. The Hunter's eyes closed for yet another long breath, and the Dhampyre almost concluded that the Hunter would swim away with the bait, but when he finally opened them he was already reaching for the Family Crest embossed leather bound compendium. Without so much as a look at the pages he opened the book to the roughly outlined but otherwise blanks pages which he pressed into the Dhampyre's hands along with a stylus and an inkwell. “All right. Here is the section for defining features. Here's habitat. Here are food sources, hunting patterns, social hierarchy, and mating habits.” He quickly explained pointing out each appropriate section as he listed them off. “Means of destruction and any ancillary notes go last down here. This section on the left side leave blank. This is where I will sketch you later. These small parts leave blank as well. I will need to sketch you claws and your teeth.”
Alucard revelled in delight at the notion of the Hunter doing a portraiture of him and he made that fact known. “If I will pose for you, will you allow me to sketch you?” He delighted even more when the request drew a laugh from the Hunter. It was a pleasant surprise from the sour response he'd anticipated.
“Would you believe a sculptor in France made a statue of me? From the neck down, anyway. They put the head of the Dauphin's late brother on it, I believe. It was for a memorial.”
Of course he was a model. A muse. Alucard sighed internally. His heart was doing strange things in his chest at the revelation, however there was a hint of unpleasantness when he thought of this unnamed sculptor and his or her unearned honour and access to the body his shirt had clung to only the night before. What an odd mix of emotions. “Well the artist was a fool to leave out the best part. Pray tell, have you done much modelling during your stay in France?”
“Stay focused, Dhampyre.” Trevor said, snapping his fingers by Alucard's ear. “I will speak of my brief stint in the Parisian courts and of my marriage but only as long as you fill in those pages. When that pen stops, so do these lips.”
Pleased beyond what surely must be acceptable and downright giddy with anticipation, the Dhampyre dipped his pen and held it poise over the empty page. Emboldened by his success he couldn't stifle the exaggerated flirtatious tone in which he declared, “Then I shall pen you a small novel, Trevor Belmont, if only to hear your voice.” Astoundingly the Hunter once more smiled in place of an expected frown. It was almost like the boy completely dismissed his admiration of Hunter's finest features as some elaborate joke.
“I'm not much of a storyteller, and this isn't a story I tell, so bear with me,” Trevor explained, stalling both to gather his thoughts and make sure Alucard touched pen to parchment. “As I said, my family was dishonoured when I was a baby. My mother was a hunter, but not just any kind. She was a Vampyre Hunter. Twenty-six years ago she noticed while trailing werewolves in the areas closer to the bridge gates that the poisoned earth around the Castle grounds was spreading. The numbers of beasts that roamed the night had also been increasing drastically, so she made her way across the bridge and grounds and into the Castle to investigate. She ended up with no choice but to challenge Dracula. She'd thought she won too at the time, but I suppose he must have escaped somehow or used a glamour to make her believe she had destroyed him. The Castle and the cursed earth fell dormant for several years, so perhaps she did at least wound the Count enough to slow him down. In return for her risking her life on behalf of the people of Wallachia, the Church deemed her an unnatural abomination before God and a heretic. How could one of the fairer sex fight better than a man, after all? She had to be possessed or a witch, or in bed with a demon. The very fact that she never divulged who my father was also used to point to her corruption from Satan. The allegations kept piling on until they incited a riot after enough years had passed for the people to forget the debt they owed her for facing Dracula. Our Ancestral home built in the eleventh century was torched to the ground with most of our servants still trapped inside. My mother managed to pull that bestiary, this whip, and my infant self from the flames and escape back to the country of our ancestors. Leon Belmont had been a French Noble when he was called into service during the Crusades. He was the first Belmont to establish himself here in Romania, but his name still carried weight back in our native France. So even though the Orthodox Church had condemned and excommunicate us over here, we were tolerated over there. Like the token oddity every party required. Something to gossip about when our backs were turned.”
Here the Hunter paused for another long moment, his brow fighting to keep from knitting together. When he was calmer he continued. “My Great Aunt took us in, as she was the sole remaining Belmont of any note living in France. She'd married a sickly man over two decades ago in order to keep her estate as she had next no money to her name. Her husband's blood disease passed on to every single one of their children and none of them ever lived beyond their first Winter, and years later that blood disease finally claimed his life. So once more my Aunt was left with little money and no heirs to draw an allowance from her late husband's wealthy family. This is where my Mother and I come in, having arrived and in need just at the opportunistic time. My mother was still young enough to marry and a family that had fought in the Crusades was still considered worth bragging about, so wedding my mother would not be without it's advantages. Our estate would keep standing and my Aunt would be granted a dowry of sorts. However my mother refused every suitor and when word got out that she spent most days turning in bounties for hunting werewolves and wights, suffice to say the rumours of witchcraft seemed to crop up all over again. It was only my great Aunt's tentative standing in the Parisian courts that kept my Mother from being dragged out into the streets by the Catholic Church to be burned. My mother always gave the money from her hunts to my Aunt as payment for taking us in, so it was in her best interest to keep my mother from the pyres, at the expense of her failing standing in the courts or not. I was kept mostly out of court affairs at the behest of my mother. She taught me to hunt but had me holed up for most years studying languages and philosophy. Frankly, I was happy enough during those years, even though I hated how my mother was demonized.”
“It sounds like it was quite lonely.” Alucard spoke softly, empathizing. The only son of Dracula understood intimately what it was like to be looked upon with disdain.
“I didn't think about it very much. I didn't want anything to do with the Nobles, or the common man for that matter. I just wanted to be out in the woods tracking down creatures to study in peace. Despite my mother's attempts to insulate me from the court, I did have a general understanding of it. From what I recall, Noble marriages are arranged like a series of ladders. You could climb a ladder through a great deed or service to the King, but that was rare. The easiest way was to managed to be arranged to marry into a house that was more esteemed than your own. You wanted to marry into a higher station or stay where you were. The lower Houses usually married up because they had something the Higher House desired like money or land, or just a child they could marry their sickly child off to. Consolidating power and wealth was the name of the game. Despite my mother turning out to be too strange and abhorred by the Parisian courts to marry, I was not. The Belmont name is a shadow of what it once was but we are not a Low House on account of that Crusade prestige. And since Higher Houses married Low to satisfy a need, and my Aunt had both a very large need for money and a young bachelor on her hands to pawn off, an arrangement was made. On the other side of the city was a very minor Lord who had married a commoner. An Irish commoner. A huge insult to the French Nobility. This Lord had built a large fortune managing numerous merchant trades yet had only a sole half-Irish daughter heir he could not get rid of. This was a prime example of that “selling your daughter” scenario you brought up earlier, except he wasn't selling his daughter. He was buying a son from a higher station in hopes of having future grandsons to leave his fortune to.”
“That is quite dreadful.”
The Hunter threw up a hand in a gesture that fell somewhere between agreement and a passive resignation. “One morning I am woken up early and dressed and groomed in Sunday clothes and told absolutely nothing about where and why I am going when I'm stuffed into a carriage. I am escorted into the Church where I am told to kneel down next to this red haired girl even younger than I am before a Priest. We had time to exchange a single bewildered glance at each other and I asked her who she was. She couldn't answer me because with only her father and my Aunt in attendance to stand witness, we are bloody married right there on the spot. It's the Priest who tells me her name is Estée, and because the dowry her father had agreed to pay my Aunt will not be transferred until there is proof of the consummation of our marriage so it can't be annulled, after the ceremony they lead my new wife and I to a little room in the back with a bed made up in white linens. The two of us are locked inside with two Church officials standing guard outside, and I'm told I am supposed to deflower this strange girl I don't know and give them the bloodstained sheets as proof. Only then can we leave.”
“I'd like to retract my earlier statement, Trevor. This is beyond dreadful. It's downright traumatic.”
“It was the very definition of traumatic. I was barely sixteen and I had only the vaguest idea how one went about deflowering. It wasn't exactly a topic my mother's lessons covered and besides, at that point in time I hadn't the desire to try and figure it out.”
“So what did you do?”
“At first, nothing. I stared at her like an idiot frozen in place. Her red hair was so strange, I had never imagined it could come in that colour. I wasn't certain I'd ever get over that oddity, let alone my sudden marriage to her. Estée uncorked the wine some saint must have left us and poured me a glass, mentioning how she was actually relieved the Priest hadn't summoned her there for another one of his long winded scripture readings, which I found funny because he really was the worst person I have ever had the displeasure of listening to. She kept making jokes about the situation we found ourselves in and refilling my wine glass every time I turned my head. After a while she told me I didn't seem so strange as the rumours lead her to believe. While she insisted the wine may have something to do with it, she thought if we'd swap attire I'd make the prettiest bride in all of Paris. It was such an absurd notion that I laughed, and then we really started talking, coming to the conclusion that at the very least, we could see ourselves becoming friends. So we did as we were asked. It was strange and sudden and not our choice, but your choice matters very little when you're saddled with family obligations. She did have a wonderful sense of humour that managed to turn what would have been a traumatizing experience into something I can laugh at now when I think back on it.”
“She sounds like she was a lovely girl...” He said thoughtfully. “So after you consummate a marriage what happens?”
“She moved into the Belmont estate and while my mother never spoke another word to my Aunt, she was kind to Estée, and we were once again invited back to all the parties. Marriage was a nice and acceptable thing, after all. Estée was soon with child, which turned out to be twin boys and my mother lived just long enough to hold her two grandsons before she passed away. Pneumonia.”
“I'm terribly sorry to hear that. She was a magnificent woman.” He offered his sincere condolences.
“She was.” Trevor agreed, albeit sadly. “Anyway... That is how I was married off for my family's financial needs. But it worked out well enough so I do not complain. I did get two beautiful children out of the arrangement.”
The Dhampyre stayed quiet, mulling over the Hunter's tale. Trevor's shyness and modesty made sense knowing he'd been a child bridegroom, intimate with only one person in his entire life. No drunken experiments or booze hazed nights on the town for this little one. Alucard had stalked the youth of mankind in the past, their wild nights making them such easy prey for a hungry Dhampyre. For the longest time his only insight into human behaviour came from watching drunken fools howl at the moon and fumble with each others clothing in the dark. Trevor was nothing like young men and women he'd hunted. He was instead just as Sypha claimed. Innocent. Almost virginal. A contemplative boy who'd rather be running through the forest paths, enjoying his solitude and the protection it provided from the world of men. It was a sentiment Alucard shared, and he had spent a great many years hiding in the forest shadows. Yet here Trevor was. Fighting for those same men who'd shunned and mistreated his family when it had taken Alucard more than a century to be able heed his mother's dying wish to not hate mankind for the evils their ignorance and fear caused them to do. From where did this young Belmont pull such virtue? On the tip of Alucard's tongue was his own sad tale he suddenly wanted to share with the Hunter, but the words, for whatever reason, would not pass his lips. Somewhere deep inside he felt telling another soul of his great anguish would be cathartic... Still he couldn't seem to put the tale to voice. What came out instead was a question.
“Did you love Estée?” He wasn't sure why he asked, seeing as how he wasn't certain which reply would hurt more to hear. That the Hunter's affections would forever belong to a deceased woman, or that he could never bring himself to love someone with red hair... Put more simply, he could never have loved her because she was different.
Another famously long pause passed by before Trevor finally answered, and it was neither of Alucard's fears but rather one his aching chest found strange comfort in. “I didn't know her well enough. We had to build a friendship at the same time as we were building a family and meeting her father and my guardian's expectations. I cared very much for her wellbeing. She was a wonderful wife and the sweetest mother my sons could have asked for, and of course she could always make me laugh. I think... No, I know if we had been given just a little more time together I would have grown to love her ardently. She... Estée would have been very easy to love, I believe.” The Hunter gathered his whip and knives in hand and rose to his feet in a measured movement that told Alucard the conversation had reached it's finality. “I will just be outside keeping watch. Try to get some rest. You can finish filling out the Bestiary another time.”
With those words the hunter ducked out of the collapsing balcony door frame. Alucard blinked slowly and looked down at the book in his hand. He hadn't even finished his first sentence. He wondered briefly why the Hunter had continued his tale when he had so firmly warned earlier that those lips would only move along with the pen...
Maybe Trevor had just needed to talk?
Chapter 9: Specters of the Past
Chapter Text
June 2037 ~ Aokigahara Jukai
It sure was sweet and romantic to walk arm in arm through a forest with your hulking ex-army boyfriend... You know, when the forest in question was not haunted, known for suicides, or the location where a couple dozen people had been murdered for insane black magick rituals mere days prior. None of these things seem to dim Hammer's enjoyment of spending time with her, and in a way knowing he liked her enough to be perfectly happy in the murder-suicide forest was pretty flattering. Yoko pressed fully against his side and watched him poke at the remains of a harpy with the butt of his gun. Not a standard army issue, but a leftover from the Demon Wars. It was one of many such artifacts Hammer had squirrelled away when he retired from the Corps to run his very profitable and also super-duper questionably legal arms dealership for the hunters of demon, werewolf or otherwise of the world. Since the great war there were far fewer hunters needed as there was no Castle full of summoners and necromancers raising armies for Dracula and most government agencies had military outfits trained to protect and kill the leftover hellspawn creatures that did venture too close to humans. But there were times when a specialist was in need, and Hammer was always around to make sure that specialist had the right tools to get the job done.
They left the harpy corpse where she lay and continued a slow stroll around the crypt the coven had utilized, Hammer looking to the sea of trees for any signs of more beasts and Yoko to the crypt for any signs or symbols that had matched the ones copied down in her grimoire. There was not much evidence to be found she concluded and pulled the old veteran over by a fallen tree to crop a squat, waiting for Julius to finish up examining the interior of the crypt to his thorough liking. She accepted the cigarette Hammer offered with an appreciative smile and lit their smokes with the tip of her finger. Admittedly the forest was less creepy in the daylight, though the muted noise everything made under the canopy of trees was still eerie.
“So where's Genya? He always seems to love going on these little excursions into the spooky places.” Hammer inquired more to make conversation then out of anything else.
Yoko smiled as she replied. “Alucard's friend we found here still hasn't regained consciousness. Other then that one evening he probably took to arrange an extended leave of absence from his mysterious government job, he hasn't left the hospital. He gets pretty snippy too when we even suggest getting some fresh air. He must have the whole staff there under his Vampyric influence by this point and probably most of the patients on that floor too. It's weird to see him control people's thoughts so easily like that. I guess I often forget that he is a Dhampyre in more than just name.” Mischievously, she continued. “You should see him fawn over this guy; It's adorable. I think they're lovers.”
“I called it!” Hammer exclaimed excitedly. The man loved good gossip. “Stunning women fall all over him all the time and he never spares them a glance. Julius thought he was just above that kind of thing. He owes me fifty bucks.”
“What women are you finding stunning?” She needled halfheartedly.
Hammer gave her a quirk of a smile. “Well you had a huge crush on him for the longest time.” It was a good save, so she let him have it.
“It wasn't huge.” She did feel the need to clarify, however. “I just found him physically attractive. He checks a lot of boxes, y'know? Tall, mysterious, dresses well, broad muscly shoulders, killer abs, deep rumbly voice, and even deeper pockets... Also, he is literally a prince. You can at least admit he is pretty.”
“Put a dress on him and a bottle of whisky in me and I'd probably try to hit that, sure.” Hammer guffawed. “I always had a thing for buff tall chicks. Gotta love those Amazons.”
“So hot.” Yoko agreed.
Much appreciated humour, given the last few days she'd suffered through, dwindled down into the ensuing comfortable silence. Closing her eyes, Yoko took in the scent of moss and black earth, envisioning herself back in the vineyards of Italy where she would sneak off to during her years studying abroad to read trashy romance novels and angst about how hard maintaining her scholarship was. What she wouldn't give to have that be her only problem these days... Then again, maybe the past always seemed a little brighter with every year you moved passed it. Surely though, at no point in the future would she be looking back on the murder-suicide forest with rose-tinted glasses.
With still no sign of Julius, Hammer's focus returned to why they were all the way out in this desolate location and continued. “So did coming back here help any?”
Yoko shook her head. “Not for me. I don't see anything here that helps me know where these witches came from or why they specifically were here. Other than the common sense conclusion that this is a great hiding place. Maybe that's the only reason, but they were not native to these lands, so I do wonder how they knew where to look to find this.”
“Maybe there's a real estate mailing list for witches you're just not aware of.” Hammer suggested with a laugh.
“Obviously that must be it. Today's feature property is this cave. It has all the amenities one should expect from a cave. But check out this limestone buildup. Perfect for tea parties and sacrificial offerings!”
“The additional outdoor stone circle and pole for dancing naked around during the solstice is a nice touch. You should ask how much the deposit would be. It can be our summer cave.”
“Aww,” Yoko cooed. “our first major purchase together.”
“Let me know if I should start saving for a wedding gift.” Julius' voice from behind them startled the pair to their feet. “Belmont's are paupers these days, so if you don't give me a heads up, you're getting a blender.”
“The Church pays you what they pay me.” Yoko started, but caught herself when she remembered she was also pretty broke. “Oh, right.” She finished with a self-depreciating laugh. “I'd appreciate the blender... So what's the plan, Stan? Find anything?”
The old Hunter made a noncommittal noise while stretching, tired bones creaking and popping from a night spent stooped surveying the ground for tracks. “There's signs of foot traffic off this way, but with all the roots and hard ground, tracking a human is next to impossible in this place. Thankfully it hasn't rained yet, so I think our best bet is to pry our bloodhound away from the hospital and have him follow the scent for a better idea of where she ran off to.”
“Any idea why they were here of all places?”
“The Castle was last here in Japan. For a while it should be easier to gain access to it from this area since it's energy last touched these lands. I suspect in a few months time we'll be sent back to Romania as that was the point of origin for it's appearance in our world, and the natural place where the veil is thinnest. There's always more work in Europe anyway, so I personally am looking forward to leaving this lovely but humid country.”
“Saving for your retirement, eh?”
“Saving my sanity.” Julius laughed. “I am sick of needing an interpreter everywhere I go.” The Hunter clapped Hammer on the shoulder and urged the man to start walking. “Hammer, my friend. Do you mind dropping us off at the hospital?”
“I figured I would just let you walk back, but since you asked so nicely...” The Veteran set a swift pace for their single file march back to the Jeep. “Think Genya would mind if I popped in too? I'm curious about the cave boy you found.”
“Quite the opposite, I imagine. He's rather fond of you, Hammer, he just doesn't know how to show it.”
Yoko trailed after the two of three men in her life with an easy smile on her face, listening to them take small jabs at each other before zoning out sometime later in the Jeep when they started building fantasy football teams. She didn't even bother to clarify if they meant real football or the American kind. It was just nice to close her eyes to rest against the sun dappled window and let their voices drift over, drowning out the memories of carved bodies and sex offender Vampyres alike... She awoke to Hammer's gentle touch, jostling her ever so slightly so as not to alarm her awake. They had arrived and parked outside of the stately hospital so soon, she felt, but of course she would. That's how sleep worked, duh. She lead the men through the building by memory to the correct floor and knocked on the semi-shut door to Alucard's friend's private room, but there was no answer.
With a shrug she stepped in quietly, Julius and Hammer on her heels, and slipped past the privacy curtain only to stop dead in her tracks. “Alucard?” She whispered softly so as not to disturb the injured man the Dhampyre was curled around.
The Dhampyre was surprisingly not in his human man suit illusion spell, so it was a shock to see the alabaster skin and hair wearing Genya's suit, minus the jacket and shoes. He lay alongside the equally pale brunette, an arm and leg lightly and partially draped around the smaller body, with his face buried in the less glossy and more oily warm tresses only a scant few days after a wash. The younger man in kind had turned his face towards the Dhampyre, the fan of their combined hair against the white hospital pillows creating a gradient sort of yin-yang symbol. In perfect harmony, the long and slow rise and fall of their chests in unison created a sort of tranquility Yoko was remiss to disturb. In spite of that she stepped a little closer and tried his name again, but Alucard gave no sign he had heard her.
“Is... he asleep?” She whispered to Julius. “Can Vampyres sleep?” She had seen him on more than one occasion close his eyes and rest in a sort of meditative state, but he always seemed aware of what they were doing or saying around him while he was 'resting'.
Julius seemed as perplexed as she as he studied their friend intently. “Vampyres cannot sleep or dream.” He confirmed. “...Maybe that is different for him. He is half human.”
Well there's something you don't see everyday. She mused. It wasn't too often something devilspawn related stumped the Hunter. He may have lost many of his personal memories in the fallout of Dracula's defeat, but he always had an explanation on hand for any beastly related queries from her.
“Do you know who the kid is?” Hammer asked in a hushed tone. He made a thoughtful noise when Yoko and Julius shook their heads. “He looks really familiar.” The Veteran surmised.
“Army?” Julius ventured.
It was Hammer's turn to shake his head. “If he is it's after my time. I don't know him from there... And look at him. He's a baby. He's too young to have served during the war, or during the two decades of cleanup during my enlistment.”
“Ooh, the mystery deepens.” Yoko tapped a finger against her lips as she mulled over the strange boy... The more she thought about it the more she too found he looked familiar, and she said as much. “He's not a buyer from you?”
“No. I would remember that scar if he was a buyer. I only deal face to face with a select few people I trust. But goddamn does he look familiar to me. This is going to drive me nuts.”
“Shh.” Julius hushed, and pushed passed them to stand by the bedside. The mystery boy in question was stirring, restlessly rolling his head from side to side as his eyes fluttered.
Not wanting to miss a thing, Yoko pulled Hammer to the foot of the bed to watch the brunette fight his way to consciousness. It seemed like a rather valiant struggle, and more than once it appeared it would end in all sound and no fury. Yet to the surprise of all in attendance, long light-coloured lashes - vogue, Yoko would call them later - fluttered open at last to reveal the palest shade of cobalt blue irises Yoko had ever laid eyes on. She may have been humouring Alucard the other night when she called this boy handsome, but the compliment turned out to hold true. Between the sharp classic features and creamy skin, warm chestnut locks and tremendously beautiful eyes... Damn. Good catch, Alucard.
Pale blue eyes scanned the ceiling seemingly unable to focus on anything in the bright hospital lighting. He lifted, albeit weakly, a hand attached to a surprisingly muscular forearm in an attempt to shade himself from the harsh lighting, struggling to pull the other arm pinned between Alucard's and his own body free. Failing to do so, the boy let out an annoyed sound and whipped his head to the side to examine what was keeping him trapped. It seemed he was having difficulty seeing, which was understandable given the coma he'd just fought tooth and nail to come out of, as he spent quite the next while simply examining the sleeping face of the Dhampyre next to him. The hand shielding the light dropped gently to cup the Dhampyre's cheek, sliding back along the jawline to thread into the white hair. The boy seized a lock of it and pulled it closer, studying the silvery-white threads as he plied soft coils between thumb and fingers. It wasn't long after that his pupils seemed to focus and recognition was as clear as day upon his sharp features. He let the strands of hair fall away and once again reached towards Alucard, gripping the Dhampyre's shoulder firmly to give the man a hard shake.
Golden eyes shot open, chased closely by a wide earnest smile the sorceress would have never believed the stoic Dhampyre was capable of. “You're awake.” He spoke in Romanian, which at least gave Yoko a clue as to where the boy came from, but there was something odd about his pronunciations all of a sudden. Alucard attempted to sit up, freeing the boy's pinned arm which the frail thing used to hold fast to the Dhampyre, which resulted in being pulled to a sitting position as well. Alucard cupped the back of his neck with one hand while the other fell to grip the boy's waist with fluid familiarity, as he attempted to steady the weakened, wavering brunette. “You're awake.” He said again, disbelievingly.
The pale brunette never broke eye contact with the Dhampyre as he gathered his strength, clenching and unclenching the fist of his right arm. After a moment his pale pink lips parted and a breathy voice addressed the Dhampyre. “Adrian.”
Adrian? Was that a name? Yoko had to wonder if perhaps it was another pseudonym of Alucard's.
Impossibly, Alucard's smile grew even wider. “Yes, it's me.” He replied with a delighted laugh. So Alucard and Adrian were one and the same, then.
With measured effort the boy removed his left hand from the Dhampyre's shoulder and raised it to cup his face in an apparent affectionate gesture. For a brief moment it seemed like he was smiling back, but to the shock of all parties witnessing, the brunette's smile turned into an open sneer the fraction of a second before the hand he had been flexing balled tightly into the fist he swung. At such a close range and at the incredible speed in which the boy attacked, even someone with Alucard's reflexes was caught off-guard. The force behind the punch filled the room with the sound of a sickening crunch, a fine mist of blood powdering the ivory linens and hospital gown the aggressor wore. Even more blood ran down the Dhampyre's face in rivulets from a clearly broken nose, which was promptly ignored when it became clear the boy had used all of the strength he'd cobbled together to give the Dhampyre a piece of his mind. Those pretty blue eyes were already fluttering back shut when he pushed away from Alucard to flop unceremoniously back onto the mattress, looking rather smugly satisfied before sleep once more overtook him.
“Oh, come on. I'm begging you to open your eyes.” Alucard pleaded, completely oblivious to his onlookers or the gore spewing down his visage and staining his dress shirt crimson. “Wake up. You can hit me again, I deserve it.”
“Sweetie...” Yoko interjected, Mom-Mode fully activated. “Let's clean that up.”
If she'd thought things through properly, which let's be real, was pretty hard to do when you just watched your friend get suckerpunched, she'd have realized that she really should have given Alucard the time to notice they were present on his own, as her sudden suggestion spooked the Dhampyre into a literal puff a smoke. Which in turn spooked her, which made Hammer jump, which made Julius unlatch his whip out of pure instinct, which was how they all ended up with spells and weapons drawn when the Dhampyre re-materialized from his misty form behind them, wide-eyed and still oozing blood from the mess of his very broken nose.
“You startled me.” Alucard informed them in the understatement of the year, Hellfire winking out of existence between his hands. His voice sounded calm and collected, but he was still visibly shaken.
“No shit.” Hammer sighed, calming his own nerves. “I think that took ten years off my life.”
“You need a kleenex or something?” Julius asked while making a vague gesture at the face-fountain of blood.
Confused, Alucard reached up to tentatively poke at the gory mess located at the centre of his face, studying the blood he found on his fingers disbelievingly. Absentmindedly he pulled the pocket square free from his ruined suit vest and halfheartedly wiped at the blood, doing very little more than smearing it further. He all but shoved Julius aside to return to the bedside of the boy who'd hauled off and punched him clean in the kisser, all concern once more directed upon the sleeping brunette. “Please, why won't you wake up.”Begging in such a forlorn tone, it was really rather heartbreaking.
Yoko was torn between wanting to comfort her friend or chastise him for pining over a guy whose first lucid course of action was to fricken' break his money-maker. She stomped off in a huff to the filing unit to dig through for some gauze and peroxide. It took all her strength to yank the Dhampyre from the bed to face her. “Let me clean that up.” She said soothingly, masking her annoyance.
“I'm fine." Alucard assured her while pulling away but she tugged him right back and sternly pointed him towards one of the chairs against the wall.
“You are not fine. Sit down right now, Mister.” Chalk it up to emotional distress or whatever, but the visibly distraught Dhampyre obeyed her command rather meekly. Which was a whole other concern... Under normal circumstances you could try all you like, Alucard took orders from no one. You'd have had better luck trying to boss around a mountain. “You're going to need a doctor to set your bones back in place or they'll heal crooked.” She said while dabbing lightly around the open wound, her voice returning to the more soothing tone she'd started with. Hammer came to her side with a wet rag and his water canteen, which she accepted graciously before getting to work cleaning up the bulk the smeared mess. Deciding to make use of his situational acquiescence, Yoko pressed for more info while she worked. “Any idea why he did that to you?”
Alucard closed his eyes, a humourless smile ghosting his lips. “I am certain I have a few more of those coming.”
“What did you do to him to deserve that?”
“Cowardice.” Alucard answered simply. His body stiffened as he seemed fixated on something Julius was doing behind her.
“Well...” She inhaled slowly. “I've never known you to be a coward.”
Gold eyes fixed upon her and the temperature of the room dropped to frigid. “You don't know me at all.” He warned ominously.
Of all times and places, it was in this very moment that for the first time in her life, Yoko was introduced to the full force of Alucard the Vampyre Scion of Dracula. All control of her will and body leeched away and burned up under the Force of Will Alucard exuded. Under no power of her own, her hands fell away from him and she stepped back out of his way, her eyes darting fearfully around in search of help. She locked sights first with a bug-eyed Hammer who appeared to be in the same predicament, and rolled her eyes wildly to search for Julius. The Hunter too seemed caught up momentarily in the spell Alucard cast, but he managed after an agonizingly long moment in which Yoko was consumed with full blown terror to break free.
The whip was out, singing louder and brighter than it had the other night when it lashed out at a full blooded Vampyre. “That's enough, Țepeș!” Julius challenged. “I have watched you pervert and twist the free will of dozens of people these past few days and given the circumstances, I have looked the other way because you were not directly harming anybody. Now you are twisting that of your companions. Who the hell is this brat in the bed, and what is the insane power he has over you that you are willing to attack me for simply standing between you?”
“Get away from him.” Alucard growled, gold eyes bleeding crimson.
Julius did not abide, instead pulling free a silver dagger as he back-stepped to the sleeping boy's side. “Think about what you are doing very carefully. You make the wrong choice here and I am both cutting this kid's throat and cutting you down. I want to know what is going on. I want to know why you are downright feral because of him, and I want to know right this second.”
What the actual fuck is even going on!? Yoko shrieked out futilely in her mind over and over. How did a simple hospital visit devolve into decades long companions at each others throats seemingly out of the fucking blue? She found herself in the next moment collapsed upon the ground, unsteadily climbing to her feet of her own free will. Noodle-armed or not, when she finally stood straight, a ball of witchfire blazed ready to fly right into that broken blood-geyser of a nose. Seriously, this was the last fucking time a Vampyre was going to rob her of her autonomy.
It appeared after all that, that her blazing ball of rage wasn't needed. The Dhampyre had released Hammer and herself from his hold, and now he more or less collapsed to his knees before Julius. She wondered briefly if some semblance of sanity had returned to the world but then Julius lashed out with the Vampyre Killer. Blessed leather and silver strands coiled around Alucard's throat and yanked him mercilessly, stumbling to his feet mere inches away from Julius. There was no fight at all in the Dhampyre. He gave no reaction to the whip branding his flesh, although it should have been unbearable agony given how luminescent it was. He did however reach plaintively out towards the blade Julius had lay less than an inch from the throat of the sleeping brunette.
“Don't touch him.” Alucard pleaded in a helpless voice. “He hasn't done anything.”
“He made you do something pretty damn stupid.”
“No!” Alucard insisted even more helplessly. “It's me, not him. I don't know what to do or think. I just need to talk to him, that's all, and I can't let anything happen to him until I do... Until I am sure. Please Julius... Please. The knife.”
With another sharp tug Julius pulled the Dhampyre back down to his knees, still holding the silver blade threateningly close to the defenceless boy's bared neck. “Have you left this room since I last saw you?” Julius asked firmly. Yoko wasn't sure where he was going with this sudden pivot, but hell if she was going to pipe up while the Hunter was embodying pure unadulterated cold fury.
The Dhampyre shook his head slowly.
“Right now I trust you about as far as my whip reaches, do you understand? You have been acting like an animal since you laid your hands on this kid. Would you agree?”
“Yes...”
“What are the things that you refrain from doing, things you chose yourself, as a show of good faith that keeps me from having to accept a job to hunt you down, like just another feral Vampyre?”
“Killing to feed... and perverting the free will of the innocent.”
“And what else do you think is kind of an unspoken oath you've blatantly disregarded?”
“I've... Friends do not turn their blades on one another.”
With a simple flick of the wrist Julius removed the blessed weapon and latched it to his belt. “I have known you a long time... It pains me a great deal to find myself questioning your motives and your ability to control yourself. I would like to believe this is some emotional stress-induced mental breakdown and that you will swiftly be getting your shit back together. You will of course forgive me until that time for keeping you on a short leash?”
“...That seems fair.”
“It's more than fair, given what you just did.” Finally the Hunter withdrew his threatening blade and crouched down to look the subdued Dhampyre in the eyes. “I'm going to trust you to leave this room for the first time in days and go down to your car and get a change of clothes. Then you're going to change in the bathroom, and go to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee which you will sit there and drink. In that time, you are going to trust us to watch over sleeping beauty over here, because unless you give me a reason I think warrants it, I don't intend to harm an injured boy I don't know from Adam. When you get back, we're going to have a civil chat, minus the fireballs, Vampyric powers, and brandishing holy weapons.”
The Dhampyre hesitated a moment but took his cue to stand. “I'm sorry.” He whispered, shaking his head as he rushed on. “I know, I know. Don't say it, prove it.”
Yoko moved out of his way wordlessly, feeling quite suddenly completely drained of... everything. She slumped into the chair she had been nursing Alucard from when the day had gone south with no warning. “Why is everything so shitty lately?” She asked no one in particular.
Julius pointed at the boy in the bed. “This right here. He's got trouble written all over him, and I am going to get to the bottom of this.”
“Sooo... Genya isn't usually batshit crazy, right? I feel like I would have noticed that about him sooner.”
“This right here is why.” Julius pointed again. “I can't wait to hear who he is.” With that the Hunter returned to the boy's bedside and if he stared any harder he'd probably have burned holes in the kid's skull.
“Glad you decided to pop in?” Yoko ventured with a tired laugh.
Hammer scoffed but said nothing. She could see the cogs working behind his eyes as he studied Julius studying the unconscious boy.
For a while it was just a relief to sit in a fugue state and pretend absolutely nothing traumatizing had happened. She dicked around on her phone mindlessly, just as Julius appeared to be doing, but even all the photo filters in the world to play with couldn't keep her mind from drifting back to how powerless she felt facing off against both Joachim and now Alucard. And Julius wanted her to fill his boots when he was dead and gone? She was expected to be the one younger inexperienced hunters would be coming to for advice? There was a lot of work ahead of her, that was for sure.
“Hey Julius...” Hammer began, hedging. “You don't remember much before the Demon Wars, right?”
The old Hunter tucked his phone away and quirked an eyebrow. “I remember a home and living in Wallachia vaguely. I also recall sights and smells here and there, but not enough to piece together what my life was like before the war. Why are you asking about this again all of a sudden?”
“Well... It's just that...” Hammer let out a series of uncomfortable noises before he managed to get to the point. “You wouldn't recall if you had a kid then, would you?”
Julius' eyes narrowed and they flitted back and forth between Hammer and the sleeping boy. “No... I suppose I wouldn't.” He admitted. “You don't think..?”
“Well... I mean he looks so damn familiar but he's too young for me to have worked with him... But really the more I look at him the more I think he looks like you when you were that age.”
Yoko opened her mouth to shoot down the idea but something held her tongue. She didn't know Julius as a younger man as she was a baby then, but she tried to find some similarities between his history book pictures and this sleeping question mark just for fun. Julius was certainly much taller than the boy with broader shoulders and a boxy shaped torso. The sleeping brunette was more tapered with a narrow waist and hips, and with the kind of natural muscle one built up from hard physical labour and not lifting weights at a gym. They did share similar facial bone structure. She imagined too that Julius' long brown hair had dulled with age. It seemed feasible that he had sported lustrous chestnut locks in his wild youth. Probably had all the girls falling all over him when he batted the lashes of those lovely... pale blue eyes. Pale cobalt blue eyes. That blue colour she had found so unique because she had never until now registered the shade of Julius' eyes beyond their permanent bloodshot state. She tore a blank page from her grimoire free and skipped to the side of the bed opposite Julius. With a small controlled flameless heat, she browned the white page and seared the excess away until she was left with a toasted paper goatee she could easily place on the sleeping boys face. It... was too perfect. “Oh my god.” She exclaimed.
Even Julius stared incredulously at her creation. “Jesus fucking H. Christ on a pogo stick.”
She removed the paper goatee and looked down at the sleeping boy once more. But she couldn't unsee it. He was like a little Julius mini-me.
“What are you doing..?” A deep dulcet voice asked from the doorway. The unspoken 'to him' that followed the start of the question was so blatant the Dhampyre might have well just said it, though she imagined he was trying to curb back his over-protectiveness as a show of... good faith.
Alucard, now changed into simple slacks and a pull-over sweater hovered in the doorway seemingly waiting to be invited in to the private hospital room he was paying for. His broken nose seemed braced and set and bandaged, the start of two black eyes blooming steadily along. He distress was palpable, which was still fucking weird for a person who usually didn't show any emotion. But no matter how badly she felt for him, he had frightened her, and she was going to be a little miffed about that for a few days. Standard protocol and all. He deserved to feel shitty for a while.
“Do I have a kid?” Julius asked point blank without turning to look at the Dhampyre.
“Do you...” Alucard faltered for a moment. “I don't know every minute detail of your life, Julius. If you had a lover before the Demon War, it's possible you could have. Why are you asking...”
“This guy sure does look familiar, huh?”
“He...” The Dhampyre, evidently tired of waiting to be invited in, crossed the threshold, but stopped short of coming directly bedside. Another small concession in the name of good faith. “If you have a child, I do not know them. He's not your son.”
Yoko replaced the paper goatee and raised a single eyebrow.
The younger Julius slept soundly as they Dhampyre choked back a series of curses in what she was sure was Romanian, but sounded overly proper and dated. An older or regional dialect, most likely. The paper goatee vanished right off the boys face, burned to ash from the world tiniest spark of Hellfire. “It's a passing likeness at best.”
“First of all, no more Hellfire inside this room unless there's some hellspawn about to bite your ass, clear?” Julius began. “And secondly, we're having that civil chat now. Who is this boy?”
“I told you... I have to ask him.”
“Cut the evasive crap. My patience went out the window when you went feral. Who do you think he is?”
Anguish played across the Dhampyre's features. “Actually, I've decided I want you to ask him for me. I... I will believe him. Whatever he tells me I am going to believe him because I want to so badly. And what I want... It can't be true. He should be long dead. You will not have the need I possess to believe him. If something is off and his story doesn't add up you will pick up on that. I'm afraid when it comes to him... I am too desperate to see reason.”
“A name would be a good start.”
“...Belmont.” Alucard finally divulged. It was a bloody miracle. “Trevor Belmont.”
It was immediately obvious Julius didn't think this was the some kind of breakthrough Yoko believed. He rolled his eyes and spat in an impatient tone. “Do you have any idea how many Leon, Simon and Trevor's there have been in the Belmont family over the years? You're going to have to be a little more specific.”
Alucard's uncharacteristic meekness fell to the wayside as he turned Julius in his direction, only speaking when the Hunter's attention was entirely upon him. “Who he appears to be... Is the Trevor Christopher Belmont all those other Trevor's are named after.”
Yoko scratched her head, unsure exactly what was going on, unfamiliar as she was with the Belmont family tree outside the major hitters, but Julius seemed to understand the gravity of what Alucard was claiming. And judging by his incredulous expression it was more than clear he thought the Dhampyre truly had gone and flown the coop.
“You know that's impossible, right? You know you sound completely crazy?”
“That's why I need you to ask for me. I knew him, Julius. I travelled with him, battled by his side, shared a bedroll on cold nights. He saved my life. I saved his. I remember how his hair and flesh feels in my hands. I know how he smells, and the sound of his voice. I know how he looks at me, even when he's angry. And trust me, I know how this sounds too. But I've encountered two doppelgangers of him in my father's Castle before, and they were nothing like what is laying on that bed right now. He vanished three years after our journey together and I never found out what happened to him. And I looked. I spent an entire human's natural lifetime looking for him. No body, no grave. Nothing. He walked off the Earth one day. And now here he is. Just as I remember him. And still angry with me for being a coward.”
“Fine.” The Hunter conceded.
“Fine?” The Dhampyre repeated in disbelief. “You... believe me?”
“I believe that you believe this is a dead man. I believe you are wrought with emotion because you never got to grieve or properly let go of a dead man and now here's this facsimile and the guilt is driving you to act erratic enough you tried to attack me. I believe when this is all cleared up you will stop being erratic and I will forgive you for being a nutcase. So when he wakes up I am going to interrogate him and then we're going to go on our merry way. Because we both know this is not a six hundred year old dead man.”
“You... All right. But what if it is?”
The Hunter pulled his phone out of his pocket and waved it in front of the Dhampyre's broken nose. “See this?” He asked, holding the phone open to an app so close to Alucard's face a blind man would have been able to see it.
“The weather?”
“Yes. It's going to rain tomorrow morning. So tonight we are going to go back to that suicide forest and that little cave of horrors and you are going to track that witch with your broken nose. Before we lose the last shred of evidence we have to lead us to her.”
“Tonight?” Alucard began to argue. “He woke up this morning. He might wake up again later today. Or tonight.”
“Bring your phone. You have a satellite one. The hospital will call you if he wakes up. Tomorrow, if he's awake we will put this to bed. Tonight, there are a couple dozen murdered victims who need some good old fashioned biblical vengeance. This is not a six hundred year old dead man, and you will not shirk your responsibility to the deceased because of this insane notion you got in your head. In fact, after we prove he is not Trevor Christopher Belmont, we can ask him if he knows anything about the woman who sliced him up. That would be a valuable use of our time and resources. We are here to help you at your request, remember?”
“Perhaps... some distance will clear my head.” The Dhampyre sounded like he was trying to convince himself. “Perhaps... If this is a spell of some kind or even my brain synapses misfiring, being away from him will... fix it.”
“Glad to hear it.” Julius exclaimed, shoving the Dhampyre out the door. “Go tell the nurses to call you, and then go the hell home and shower. I will meet you at your house.” Still irate, he turned sharply to her and continued in the same no-nonsense tirade. “You have had a long night already so if you are up to come with, great. If you need a night off, fine. Be at Alucard's if you are coming, because I am not wasting any more time with six hundred year old dead men and Dhampyres who can't get over the past. This woman is dangerous, and who knows if we'll be able to catch her after she's had so many days head start.”
Yoko and Hammer scrambled out the door to comply, leaving Julius alone to study the source of his agitation for however long he felt necessary.
“Still glad you decided to pop in?” She asked once more.
Hammer just rolled his eyes.
Chapter 10: The Lord of the Lake
Chapter Text
October 1476 ~ Lost City of Poltergeists
Vampyres simply did not sleep as mortals did. Not even exhaustion weighed heavy on such a demon's lids. Rest for his kind was a meditation of sorts, a wilful shutdown of one's mind just for the sake of peace. The world beyond his meditative state was dulled and distant, yet he was still acutely aware of when the young Hunter ducked inside their refuge to wake the Rogue before settling down in the bedroll next to the Dhampyre to get a bit of sleep. Laying still as the dead, every breath filled with the perfume that was the scent of the human so close, his ears tuned to the faint sounds of distress. The Hunter tossed about restlessly, night terrors or perhaps, understandably, very real concerns of their journey ahead plaguing his dreams. Alucard was fully aware when the Hunter's fitful sleep awoke the Mage, and he took to listening to her pack up her belongings and medicine. Moving through each task briskly before she began preparing some tea over the fire stoked back into life through arcane arts. He was aware of the noticeably cooler breeze as November fast approached, the smell of dampness and grief carried alongside the arctic air. As was he too, aware of the low groan echoing through the stone structures from their submerged bowels... The Lord of the Lake waking as the daylight dwindled away, and with him the night hoards would soon be stirring.
Yet it was not any of these distractions that drew the Dhampyre out of his meditation, but his infernal hunger for a bloodmeal. A proper one. The wound Dracula had branded his flesh with ached, as did the burns from his duel with the sleeping Hunter. It was the kind of pain Alucard knew would abate if he could only have that crimson honey glide down his so very parched throat. Preferably this restless human's honey. Trevor smelled sweet. In fact, the Dhampyre was willing to bet if he licked the salt from the young Belmont's flesh it would taste of sugar. He was made aware he was staring when Sypha cleared her throat, and he tried to pass his pointed leering off as merely casual observation, whether successfully or not was up for debate. “Is sleep supposed to be that fitful?”
“Discounting the odd time pure exhaustion puts him under... Seems like his always is.” Sypha replied, watching the demon rather coolly. Unsuccessful it was, then. “That's why he takes first watch. Nobody gets any rest around him.”
“There's a lot of grumbling going on out there...” Grant announced in a low voice as he stepped back inside. “I know he didn't sleep very long, but I think we should head out soon.” The middle aged man accepted the offered tea and sucked it back quickly with a slight shiver. It was indeed the cusp of November, and with it was fast coming winter, though it seemed the snow would be early this year.
“A little longer.” Sypha decided, her firm tone effectively ending the conversation before further debate could be made. She offered Alucard the next cup of tea which he drank, grateful to have something warm sliding down his throat. “Let's get everything ready to go in the meantime.”
When it finally was time to wake the Hunter, he climbed bleary eyed to his feet looking far worse than he had before he'd slept. Without a word he tidied the remaining things that he owned, redid the laces of his padded vest that seemed to perpetually come undone multiple times throughout the night, trimmed his fingernails of all thing, and started the descent down their church tower. Strip of owl jerky held firm between his teeth.
No different from the previous night, the party did not get very far into their journey before the murky waters around them bubbled and frothed as mermen and the dead breached it's dark surface. Unsatiated hunger must have had an effect of his ferocity, as more than once did he startle the Mage and Rogue by tearing a creature apart piecemeal. Unfortunately, nothing that would make a suitable meal could be found, which only served to make him more vicious as the night drew on. The push against the hoard was little more than a crawl for great expanses of time. At odd intervals they could feel the brick and mortar tremble with the roar of a mighty demon beneath the waves. Alucard knew this preceded the Lord, and truly it was only a matter of time before the commotion and blood drew it's ire. Often in the distance he thought he'd spotted bony spines breaching the waters but it was too far to say with any degree of certainty, and besides, he hoped wishful thinking would keep the beast at bay. There were other more immediate dangers to consider, like how Sypha and he found themselves once more about to be swallowed by the hoard.
“It's clear up here!” Grant's voice called down from the ramparts. It was all the invitation they needed.
Alucard practically tossed Sypha to Grant to catch before the press of vile mermen consumed her, and scrambled up on the girl's heels to avoid the same fate. Together they climbed higher and higher to escape of range of greasy fireballs and the like and only stopped when the din of the battlefield grew faint. It was at the moment of respite he was struck with a temporary panic. Where was the Hunter? Had they abandoned him to the hoard? The worry was uncalled for, thankfully, as the Trevor stood waiting for them to catch up, studying their progress with grim displeasure.
“This is ridiculous.” He fumed. Looking back towards the tower they had taken refuge in earlier that day, the Hunter's annoyance was both palpable and warranted. They had spent hours travelling the length of only a few city blocks. As the night was progressing it was becoming increasingly obvious they would be spending more than two nights traversing the cityscape. “I vote we continue through daybreak and just get the hell out of here.”
“You say that almost every night, Trevor Belmont.” Sypha sighed. “As if the next place we venture won't be as bad in the same or a different way. You cannot keep forcing yourself onward like this with no rest. Your feve--”
“I will sleep when I am dead.” Trevor spat, fending off Sypha's fussing and motherly touch.
“You will be dead if you keep this up. And us as well. I for one know I cannot conjure witchfire all day with no rest indefinitely.” Upon finally catching the Hunter, the Mage hissed. “You are so desperate all of a sudden, I just knew it! Your fever is back. You need a few days bed rest or you'll never get over this illness. Real solid bed rest, mind you. Not a blanket on the cold ground.”
“Respectfully, now is not the best time to be having this conversation.” Grant interjected in such a tired way, it was clear this was yet another round of the ongoing feud between Hunter and Mage. As if to punctuate Grant's words the whole city seemed to tremble from it's very core. The humans collectively stilled, suspicion and wariness naked upon all three faces.
It was when Trevor looked to him for some insight that he spoke in a hushed tone. “You recall my father's dragon that sunk this city?” He waited a moment, because even in dire situations there was always room for some dramatics. “The humans drowned that day are not the only restless spectres you should fear here.”
“Moroi dragons, now.” Trevor spat incredulously, but quickly changed his mind on the matter. “No, I believe anything at this point. This Lord of the Lake you mentioned?” He waited for Alucard to nod. “I thought you were just trying to scare us off back in the cave. I should have paid attention better.”
“Well... I was trying to scare you off. With good reason.”
Fear was not exactly the response he received from the Hunter. It was more of a dignified and contained exasperation. Given how moments before Trevor's agitation had been open and palpable, in another situation the sudden switch to measured civility complete with a tight smile would be comical. As if they were just two gentlemen discussing the mundane. “How big is this undead dragon, good Sir?” The Hunter inquired in the same tone one would ask about the weather.
Alucard guided the Hunter to stand before him then counted off his best estimate of paces it would take to equal the length of the Lord of the Lake. When he assumed he'd gotten the size more or less correct he stopped and faced Trevor from thirty feet away. “About this long, and a good twenty or twenty five feet tall. Of course, that was back when the beast had flesh and was living.”
It was Grant who broke the politely masked tension with a long litany of remarkably colourful curse words and very inventive ways in which to intertwine them. “Okay, I am with Trevor on this. We need to get out of here as soon as possible.” With Sypha nodding her agreement he faced the Dhampyre. “These rumblings that have been getting stronger are the dragon, right? How close is it?”
“Closer than you think.” The Dhampyre reluctantly replied. As if to emphasize their dire position, the very building they stood upon shook as the weight of something much too large crashed against it. Humans and Dhampyre alike were brought to their knees in the ensuing tremors. “Much... Much closer.” He whispered, as if even his hushed tone would summon the Lord back for another assault.
Trevor was the first to climb to his feet, in doing so becoming the very picture of grim defiance. Sypha and Grant barely caught the jerky he threw in their direction, both confused. “Eat up, you're going to need the energy.” The Hunter explained, polishing off another piece of the dried fowl for himself that night. As his companions complied the Hunter retied the laces of his padded vest and took stock of his arsenal. “So here's the plan. The city is submerged but there is an out to the East leading back up to the forests towards the village of Yomi.” With a slight humourless smile the Hunter added, “So I have been told by our new guide.” as he pointed out towards the next tallest structure in the distance. It was a semi-collapsed bell tower. “That is where we are making a run for. We need the height to pick our escape route. The little bat that told me we could get out that way is going on information that's three decades old. A lot can happen to a wet ruin in thirty years.”
“We can't exactly make a run for it though.” Sypha voiced. “The mermen are too thick.”
“Grant can make a run for it above safely. Maybe thin the crowd that way for us by means of distraction.”
“Bait.” Grant surmised.
“Sorry, brother.” Trevor sighed.
The Dhampyre offered his own contrite quirk of the lips as compensation. At least the Hunter's words and tone had sounded like a genuine apology.
“I'm not asking you to do anything reckless. Just... be a little noisier then you normally would be. Sypha, you seem light enough for Alucard to make a run with. So Grant can maybe thin the herd a little, and I'll bait some this way. You two make a run for it and don't stop until you are there. Grant and I will not be far behind.”
“You are asking me to leave you to the demon spawn, Trevor Belmont?” Sypha asked in utter disbelief.
“No I am not.” Trevor cut in before the Mage wound herself up for another argument. “I am asking you to secure the best vantage point we have left and maybe throw some witchfire my way if I get swarmed. And before you inquire,” The Hunter turned to him just as swiftly to cut off the Dhampyre's protest. “I am asking you to keep my one and only valuable medicine making mage safe and maybe throw some Hellfire my way if I get swarmed.”
Alucard instead cut to the real concern at hand that all three of the Hunter's companion's were truly thinking. “What you are asking really, is for all three of us to let you risk your life as the only man on the ground. Seeing as how Grant will be along the trees and scaffolding, while Sypha and I race up a bell tower.”
“If we all climb down there as one everything in this city will just converge on that point. So unless you have a better plan, or can tell me with absolute certainty where the pathway back up to the forest is... This is what I got. Step one, get to the tower. Step two I'll figure out when we're over there.”
“I... do not like this.” He conceded. “But I do not have another solution to offer. Nor can I say with absolute certainty the state of anything in this sunken ruin, given how long I have slumbered.” The Dhampyre sighed audibly and stepped forward to pull the Hunter's supply bag and blanket roll from him. “I will take these for you. You will need every bit of your agility down there. Alone.”
“He will not be alone.” Grant promised, already moving back towards the crumbling ramparts. On the heels of that promise was yet another tremor that brought the party to their knees, spurring the group to get moving.
The Rogue took off, dragging a dagger hilt along any and all rusting metal, cacophony of steel against iron succeeding in drawing the attention of the beasts below. The Hunter used a small silver throwing knife to draw his own blood, a clever and effective bait to incite the remaining Moroi and keep the focus off Sypha and himself. Trevor backtracked the moment his boots hit the ground, clearing the hoard for them as they gave chase to the fresh enticing blood.
“Let us not waste his effort.” Sypha spoke grimly. Alucard nodded and together they raced to the bell tower.
The structure was in worse repair than the earlier tower they had found refuge in. The walkways and stairs disintegrating with every tremble from the depths. Morose spirits tripped the duo up and they tried to ascend, spectral hands pulling at their boots and cloaks as distant spectral voices begged them to stay with the long since departed. Stray mermen and animated bony corpses, few as they were here, were dispatched easily. Soon enough, the tower was secure, and Alucard wasted no time climbing to it's peak in order to search for the forest pathway while Sypha watched below, on the lookout for their absent companions. Yellow eyes scanned the murky distance, utilizing his Vampyric vision to it's full advantage.
“I see our way out.” He informed Sypha. “But it does not look very sturdy.”
“What has been in this infernal pit?” The Mage shot back. Still, there was a distinct trace of relief in her weary voice. At least there was before the waves below were sliced apart by ivory spines, the rattle of ancient dragon bones drowned out only by the roar of the devil's ire. “The... That's the-!?” Sypha cut herself short with a cry as the rotting bell tower was rammed, the Lord of the Lake's exposed ribs shredding the moist mouldy wood and threatening to take the entire building down around them. The devil circled back to continue it's assault, desperate to worm it's way into the bell tower to feast upon them, or force them out of hiding. “We can't stay here!” The Mage shouted to be heard over the groaning timber and dragon's snarling.
“No, we can't” Alucard agreed, pushing the girl to scurry faster down the fragile stairs. To face the Lord was sheer lunacy, but with the bricks around them plummeting into the depths below what choice did they have? The tower would trap or crush them when it collapsed. The dragon, now frantic in it's attempt to get at it's prey, savaged the rickety base of the bell tower. Before the Dhampyre quite realized what was happening, instinct had him pouncing upon the Mage, pressing her between the more solid brick wall and protecting her with his body. “Hold onto me, Sypha. And pray if you are the praying type.”
The tower base yielded to the Lord of the Lake's fury. Wooden rafters wrenching apart, bricks separating, the whole tower coming undone under the dragon's assault. Sypha tucked into his body as best he could, the two found themselves toppling towards the former roof of the bell tower as it lilted and finally collapsed, crashing into a smaller structure below. The ensuing chaos of dust and battery left them painfully exposed and disoriented. Witchfire in his blurry peripheral alerted the Dhampyre much too late to fully get out of the dragon's path. It's jaws tore furiously into the wall he'd found himself against, ivory teeth bringing the crumbling debris down, pinning his legs. Vision still hazy and now completely trapped, Alucard brought his arms up to shield himself from the inevitable strike. With a lot of luck depending how the teeth closed around him, he might have the strength to keep it's jaws from completely crushing him. In the last possible moment before he was forced to take that gamble, a long haired figure in buttery leather stepped between the Lord and the Dhampyre.
Gleaming in the darkness with such intensity it's light danced off every damp surface and dust cloud, the Vampyre Killer coiled and lashed out, a holy parallel to the serpentine dragon of Dracula. With a shrill screech, the devil took a dive towards the safety of the dark waters but not before the hallowed weapon left it's mark, shattered bone fragments peppering the brittle stone walkways. The Hunter pivoted, cobalt eyes following the wake of the dragon, always keeping himself between it and Alucard. When it next resurfaced, leaping high in an arc overhead in an attempt to clear the Vampyre Killer all devils in Romania knew to fear, it's opening jaws were still eager to take a taste of Dhampyre flesh. Trevor had other plans, utilizing the whip like a rope in the manner some farmhand would to tame wild livestock. Hallowed looped weapon just managing to hook Dracula's dragon by it's tailbones, Trevor pulled the devil to the ground, severing it's caudel fin. Frankly, it was the most gallant thing the Dhampyre had ever seen. Far better than any of those knights on the white steeds in his children's picture books. Heroism on a scale he'd never thought possible, and with the way the light danced off their surroundings, equally surreal. Mesmerizing. What dreams must look like, he imagined. Through all the excitement of raw power and danger, it was not lost on Alucard that he was being protected. Trevor Belmont, Vampyre Hunter, thought he was worth protecting.
With that knowledge, it became clear the Dhampyre was going to have to prove he was worthy of Trevor's high opinion. As he worked to free himself from the fallen debris, Grant materialized from out the settling dust to assist. Together the shifted enough brick and rotten beam for Alucard to wiggle free, just in time to scatter to safety as the Lord of the Lake broke free of Trevor's hold. The Hunter landed poorly upon the pile of rubble the Dhampyre had just vacated, bleeding from numerous scrapes and a heavy whack just narrowly missing his temple when he toppled to his feet to face the dragon once more. When the devil made it's move, the Dhampyre lunged in to catch it by it's fangs, mustering up all the spiritual energy he could to feed the dragon Hellfire straight down it's waiting throat. The Lord of the Lake made it known how severely it did not appreciate the menu, first by writhing free and then by quickly swatting both Dhampyre and Hunter aside. Alucard caught Trevor as they tumbled through the air and landed them more or less on their feet, just as Sypha and Grant were pulling off their metal and lighting combo to some degree of success. The bones of the dragon were so dense, after all.
That was when the situation turned dire.
With a deafening screech, fried ivory raining this way and that, the Lord flew into a wild rage, thrashing stone walkways and rotten structures with abandon. The cascading towers and ramparts kicking up yet more blinding dust, tremors stealing the balance from the four, yet still the dragon lashed out. In the wake of another deafening shriek, it crashed against what appeared to be the ancient city's emblem, carved in wide stone, shattering it. Unbeknownst to anyone until then, the emblem served as as a stop-gate for the water of the above lake, controlling the flow into the sunken city below. With the dragon's last wild actions, it had finally succeeded in destroying the city once and for all. The pressure from the lake bed above continued to widen the breach, murky waters raising frighteningly fast. Making it to the forest pathway before it was flooded was the only chance the party had now.
“Go!” Was all the Hunter said. Nothing else was needed.
Alucard took point as he knew the way, pulling along and then throwing Sypha on his back. Trevor, who grabbed the supply bag back to lighten his load, and Grant were not far behind. Seemingly always on their heels was the snarling voice of the Lord of the Lake, spurring them to flee at breakneck speeds, pushing past the undead and mermen they came across with no regard or caution. The water level climbed steadily, threateningly. “ I cannot swim.” Alucard confessed, rounding a corner.
“Neither can I.” Trevor replied, short on breath. “That's the pathway?”
Indeed, where the Hunter pointed ahead were the rocky mountain steps leading to the Eastern section of the Mad Forest. His father's dragon intended to keep them from it, racing alongside it's prey in the rising waters. When it finally chose to cut into their escape path, Alucard swung Sypha around and with only a quick word of apology tossed her into a low roll, skirting beneath the Lord's bony appendages. Grant being on the shorter side for a human also managed to duck the dragon, ending up with the Mage on the safe side of the falling rampart. The Hunter and Dhampyre, cursed as they were with decent height, remained trapped in what was now ankle deep water.
“Run. We're fine.” The young Belmont ordered. The other humans wavered, unsure, but the Rogue soon pulled the Mage away, telling the frantic girl to trust that Trevor knew what he was doing.
When the other two were far enough away, Alucard asked, “Are we?” as they backed away from snapping teeth.
“You can turn into a bat. Fly out.” Trevor suggested with no regard for his own safety. The Vampyre Killer lashed out, rending bone from dragon with each strike, but the devil seemed too enraged for even the pain of such a holy weapon to cease it's assault. Behind them scores of mermen were closing in, eager for a taste of whatever the Lord of the Lake left of their mangled bodies.
The water was now at their shins.
The Dhampyre scanned the darkness, finding a possible solution. He seized the Hunter's hand and urged him to follow into the murk, hopping hap-hazardously upon shattered columns and sinking rooftops until they reached the earth wall marking the perimeter where the city's Eastern forest gate had long ago stood before the Lord sunk it. Against the rocky cliff face rested another church tower, semi-collapsed by the dragon's latest rage, upon a larger pile of debris. Against all odds, the unsteady mess nearly reached to top of the cliff. All the Hunter would have to do is scale the final twenty or thirty feet of a sufficiently rocky cliff. Certainly someone as agile and strong as Trevor Belmont could climb a hill.
“I am right behind you.” He promised the Hunter, giving him a boost onto the slanted tower.
The water was now above their knees.
Trevor scrambled up the uneven brick, teetering here and there on the more precarious footing, but he never lost his balance just as he never slowed down. Alucard followed, knowing full well the Lord was gaining on them, and mentally preparing himself to sacrifice his life for the young Belmont. The image of the beautiful figure in leather standing gallantly between him and the monstrous beast would be what he'd keep in his mind when his father's dragon took his life. No one outside his parents had ever shown him any kindness, let alone faced such peril on his behalf. When they got to the tip of the tower he watched the Hunter ascend one stony outcrop at a time. When Trevor spared a glance back, he froze in place, no doubt wondering why the Dhampyre was still standing on the steeple.
“Keep climbing, child!” He snapped. “I will fly out.” Thankfully his words were enough and Trevor continued to scale. Yes, he had already made up his mind to be the dragon bait so the pretty boy could escape the flood and Lord of the Lake, but if there was a chance he could survive this, that would be a preferable option. It would be nice if he could thank his hero in person, he mused even in such a dire situation.
Shockingly, after climbing to such heights, the water once more was eagerly lapping at his boot heels.
The Hunter was almost to the top. Alucard hedged on whether standing around for a few minutes more was necessary, given how little Trevor had left to climb and how much free flowing natural water burned his Vampyric flesh. The presence of the Lord could be felt in the air but was it because it still gave chase, or simply because it's rage had been so fierce?
The water, now just below his knees was excruciating.
He took the gamble, shifting his form into that of a bat and lifted high on leathery wings, shooting past the Hunter as he pulled himself exhaustively up the few final rocky outcroppings. He dropped back into his glamour chosen form by the Hunter's side, nearly giddy with their narrow escape. For his part, Trevor collapsed ungracefully onto his bottom, breathing heavily as he peered down the narrow crevice he'd just climbed out of. He didn't seem to mind when Alucard dropped down to rest by his side, shoulder and thighs flush. The Dhampyre somehow felt even more giddy about that.
“Do you think the water will bubble up this high?” The Hunter wondered out loud.
“No.” He replied after some thought. “It will level off with the lake. But I imagine in a few years the saturation will turn this area into a marsh. A botanist's dream.”
“Botanist?”
“Someone who studies plants and their habitat, growth cycles, and uses.” The Dhampyre explained, happy for the opportunity of such a peaceful conversation as proof they had survived their ordeal.
“So like Sypha.” Trevor surmised. “As well as your mother, going by her garden in that cave.” The Hunter returned his grin with a shy smile, closed his eyes and leaned fully against him, letting out the longest sigh once he settled. “I am absolutely exhausted.” Speaking in a tone one could almost call a whine, the young Belmont continued. “My clothes are drenched and dirty, my feet are soaked and itch, I am hungry and thirsty, I am running out of holy water and patience, I miss my children and my wife, I want to go back to France and punch the Deacon in his fat face, but I still have to find my friends and travel to a castle to slay your father first.”
“Careful, you are showing your age.” Alucard stated with mild surprise, but let the human continue to seek whatever comfort he could provide. “I will start to remember that you are a nineteen year old boy and not a Morai dragon smiting Goliath.” The Hunter treated him to a small laugh he felt throughout the whole of his own body. “Remember when you tied that devil up like a goat and slammed it into the ground with your whip? That was very impressive.”
The Hunter laughed some more. “I liked when you burned it from the inside out. You really pissed it off.”
“I had to repay you for being my heroic white knight earlier.”
“This makes you the princess, just so you know.” Trevor jibed.
“Well... I am royalty.” The concession was met with even more laughter.
“So is this what you two do when we're not around?” Inquired the Rogue, relief painted all over his voice and body. “Sitting down on the job. I tell ya, kids these days just don't have the work ethic they used to.”
Trevor bounded to his feet, pulling the Rogue in for a tight embrace. “You have no idea what we just went through. It's such a relief to see you two are all right.”
“You have no idea what you put me through, Trevor Belmont!” Sypha huffed, caught between tears of frustration and tears of joy. She pushed him away, refusing his embrace only to turn around the next moment and bury herself in his arms. “You reckless, daft idiot.” She sobbed. “You are sick and exhausted and have no business sending me away to fight a goddamned undead dragon by yourself! We are here to help you, not for you to protect. You stubborn brat. Foolish child!” Just like that, after the girl had expended all her pent up emotion, she stepped back out of the Hunter's arms with red but dry eyes, as if her crying fit had never occurred. “It's almost daybreak. We need to find a place to sleep.” Her cheeks turned rosy when Trevor wiped away the remnants of her tears.
“I am sorry.” The Hunter spoke softly.
Alucard had to wonder if he had been the one weeping, would the Hunter have wiped his tears away? Probably not, but that didn't mean he couldn't toy with the idea during his next meditative rest.
“Do not say it, Trevor Belmont. Prove it.” Sypha huffed one last time.
Whatever it was that the Hunter was about to respond with died before he could even open his mouth. Trevor pushed Sypha into Grant's arms before shoving Alucard in their direction as the ground beneath their feet began to tremble all too familiarly. Say what you will about Vlad Dracula Țepeș, the Master of the Castle certainly knew how to pick his familiars. Against all odds, the tenacious Lord of the Lake wormed it's way through the narrow crevice in one last attempt to kill the tiny humans who had maimed it. Trevor was ready for it and lashed out, hallowed weapon disintegrating several of the dragon's neck bones. However it was the diminutive Mage in their midst, clearly sick of anything that had to do with the Sunken City of Poltergeists, who finished the devil off with a freezing blast of her icy rage. The Lord's fragile remaining supporting bones froze over, splintering under the weight of the devil's hefty skull, essentially beheading the monster once and for all. Otherworldly life now severed, the remaining ivory fell apart, heavy ribs and spine segments clattering dangerously from above, most sliding back into the pit from which the devil came. It was one such thorny vertebrae with a long curved rib that snagged the Hunter by way of his bag strap, pulling him into the depths.
Sypha and Grant's shocked outcries were already distant, as Alucard had dived back into the crevice after the Hunter. He could see the boy turning head over heel being pulled along by the Lord's carcass. Honestly he didn't know what he was going to do. Although he had never personally attempted to carry another in his bat form, he very much doubted his papery thin wings were going to be able to support the weight of the Hunter and all his gear. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try, so he shifted and soared down, clawed feet slicing away the bag's straps to free Trevor from the vertebra. It was then a chunk of bone struck him square in the back, sending him slamming into the rock face briefly. Trevor was so close to sinking into a watery grave, he couldn't blame the Hunter for resorting to the only thing he had left to try. The Vampyre Killer uncoiled in a flash, circling snugly around his little bat legs agonizingly. In spite of the searing pain, he flapped like there was no tomorrow as if he didn't, there surely wasn't going to be one for either of them. Neither could swim! He may have even closed his eyes because if they weren't ascending, he'd rather not know he was about to drown until he needed that information.
“I have him, it's okay!” It sounded like Grant was assuring him.
It was the rising sun that greeted him when he braved a peek at the world. Little bat wings had cleared the pit, and Grant was hoisting Trevor out the last few feet by using the whip tethered to the Dhampyre. He... had done it. The moment he was certain Grant and Sypha had pulled their companion far enough away from the open pit his energy gave out from overuse and injury. It was not the usual catlike landing he was capable of, but thankfully the humans were too occupied with Trevor to notice how weak he'd become. How useless he would be until he could feed. There was no animal or lesser demon that could bring him back to a semblance of health in this condition... He needed to feed on a human. Grim with the knowledge that he was now a threat to the trio's safety, he sat sprawled where he'd collapsed, wrestling with the urge to consume and devour his companions, and a wounded animal's natural instinct to burrow away and lick his wounds. A pity his mother's abandoned lab and the cave he'd hidden away in was most likely flooded now.
Laughter drew his attention. Wild laughter. Unfettered, just as the kind of a madman. It was the Hunter, bent on hands and knees, laughing hysterically and drawing great concern from his human companions. Still laughing, he sat back on his knees, coiling his whip around his fist before standing and throwing a sharp jab of his fist by Grant's head. A putrid bag of undead flesh neither the Rogue or Mage had spotted creeping up on them during the commotion burned up in holy flames, and now with laughter finally dying down, the Hunter's legs gave out.
“I thought I was going to die.” Trevor spoke in the unsteady voice of a man who'd just face his own mortality. “I... I dropped everything. We have no food left.”
“You are what is important, Trevor Belmont.” Sypha soothed while holding him to her breast. She rocked ever so slightly from side to side, smoothing his hair while she did. She continued the calming gestures until the Hunter broke free of the cyclical loop of repeating that he'd thought he was a dead man, and for a little while longer after that.
“Let's find somewhere less exposed to rest up, brother.” Grant suggested gently. “We earned it.”
It seemed to be the light push the pretty little Hunter needed, as he climbed to his feet and crossed the short distance to the Dhampyre's side, kneeling to meet him face to face. “You risked your life for me, Alucard. I will never forget that.”
Here were those beautiful cobalt blue eyes looking at him with such trust and reverence while his demon mind threatened to turn this entire cliff side into a bloodbath. This pale, painfully pretty, sweet smelling, long haired warm body of meat he just wanted to strip naked and run his tongue over every swathe of skin before he tore into it with his fangs... This curious, kind boy. This noble Belmont. This gallant son of a bitch who had befriended him and protected him. This adorable and cherishable and... I just can't do it. Alucard sighed inwardly. The burns on his legs left from the Vampyre Killer were hidden by his trousers, as were the unhealed burns from their duel hidden by his other vestments. The Hunter couldn't know how famished and drained and injured he was. He would never know, because Alucard couldn't bear to act out any of the perverse bloody and feral fantasies. Not when those eyes could look at him as they were right then. Instead of attacking or slinking off to find a hovel to hide away in, the wounded wild Dhampyre found some modicum of humour to put the boy at ease. “I suppose that makes you the princess after all.”
It seemed Trevor was quite perceptive. He studied the Dhampyre, eyes reflecting concern. When he smiled, it was apologetic and guilty and he wasted no time helping Alucard to his feet, even going so far as to duck under his arm for the wounded Dhampyre to use his shoulders as a crutch. “I am not royalty.”
Chest now swelling with some warm and pleasant sensation he couldn't put a name to, Alucard leaned more heavily on the Hunter and purred. “You'll have to marry me first, if you want to be a princess.” As they were now joining back up with their companions he assumed the playful banter had come to an end, but Trevor surprised him.
“If we live through this, I'll be your princess. I'll marry you. I could use some royal pampering.”
In the pale sunlight of oncoming Winter, four weary souls wandered the wilderness in search of momentary respite.
Chapter 11: Dora Woods and the Village of Yomi
Chapter Text
November 1476 ~ Dora Woods
Suffice to say the trek through the Eastern woods was yet more slow trudging, the only saving grace being that the inherent malevolence of the Sunken City seemed to be attracting the surrounding beasts, leaving only a handful of shambling corpses for the tired party to largely ignore. Knowing it was the Dhampyre in their midst that mandated such a crawling pace rankled Alucard to no end. He was a terrible burden, killing their daylight hours of rest with his inability to keep up in his condition. Worse still, even leaning upon the Hunter so much, still he could feel the strength in his mangled legs giving away.
Just leave me. I am hungry. I am near feral. I am a burden. I am dangerous to you like this. I cannot help you like this. Thoughts such as this turned over endlessly in his mind. Yet not once did he voice his internal monologue. These were people he had no relation to who were kind and considerate of him. They were friends. They were special. Having experienced companionship for the first time in his life, could he truly slink off to burrow into the earth as Vampyric nature called him to do, and leave behind this wondrous gift they've bestowed upon him?
...Could he really repay that gift by tearing them apart piecemeal once the wild in his blood won out?
Alucard wiped his features clean when he realized Trevor was peering up at him, studying the despair written all over his features.
Trevor Belmont. Sweet innocent Trevor who has lived such a short and tragic life already. Pretty little brunette with a fire inside him that could consume the world. Alluring porcelain doll, finely dressed and meant to be cherished, cruelly thrown out into a world full of careless children, every grimy hand leaving their terrible mark on such a treasure. I want to stay with you, but I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you, but I want to devour you. I want to treasure you, but my touch will filthy you most of all. What do I do, pretty Belmont? What would you do?
Pale lips parted, decision made. They needed to abandon him, sooner than later. Yet before he could get the words out, the young Hunter called them to a stop. He gestured to a sufficient wind blocking carve-out of rocks and some shrubbery and suggested they rest a bit there. The reason being that he, Trevor Belmont, was exhausted and needed to catch his breath. It was complete horseshit. Fever or not, Alucard knew that child could run for miles still. The shame was as unbearable as the swelling feeling of appreciation in his chest, both emotions wrestling for the strongest hold. Together they hobbled over and settled down, Trevor being ever so considerate and careful to ease him down gently against a tree.
Grant got to work on a tiny fire, just enough to boil a trapper's tea from surrounding edible foliage, as they had only the scarce food in their belt pouches left. Better to conserve it until they reached the village ahead. He watched the familiar scene play out of Sypha fussing over the Hunter, checking his temperature and eyes and prodding him with bony fingers, trying to bundle him up tighter, all while sitting in the still sprawl the Hunter had lowered him down in. His legs would not work properly enough to even fold them up comfortably. It didn't take long for the small Mage to notice this, her attention fixed upon the Dhampyre in an instant.
“You are not well.” She stated in a tone that brooked no argument. “You cannot be ill, you are Moroi... So you must be injured. Was it the Lord?” She paused tentatively, running over the night. “You did get awfully banged up with the tower collapse and the dragon swatting you around.”
“It is fine.” He replied tersely, animal instinct to flee and lick his wounds elsewhere ramping up.
“I used the Vampyre Killer to lasso his legs so as to carry me out of the chasm back there. Do you think you can you do something for the burns I gave him?” Voice stained with guilt, Trevor all but pleaded with the diminutive Mage. He gave an audible sigh when she started pulling the Dhampyres boots off and rolling up his trousers, gasping at the blackened raw marks, seeping yellowed fluid that dried in tightening crusts and pulled at the open injuries. It was... a mess. And utter mess. “Alucard, I am so sorry...” Trevor prostrated, kneeling by his side. “I panicked.”
“I am not alone when I say I prefer this outcome to your early demise, Trevor.” He said short and simply through grit teeth.
He was showing weakness. They were seeing his pitiful state laid bare. Amongst his demon kin this was suicide. The survival instincts hammered away in his skull to flee, burrow, hide, recover, and feed. The humans seemed to interpret his reluctance to show vulnerability and agitation at being exposed as weak as simple anger, Trevor especially looking more and more distraught with his perceived guilt. The Dhampyre in turn felt his own guilt at being the cause of the Belmont's distress for two simultaneous reasons.
“Trevor,” He started again with soft but earnest honesty. “I was touched when you stepped between me and that dragon. You saved my life, and I'm happy that I was able to save yours in return. Together we are alive, so just be happy with me about our circumstances.”
“...I just got there first. Anyone of us would have done that for each other.” Trevor murmured, downplaying his heroics.
“No one has ever done anything for me, Trevor Belmont. Except you.”
The confession hung heavy in the air. Dhampyre and Hunter unable to look away from each other as he let a little of the Hunter's light shine into the murk that was his sad long life, while the Hunter stared into his abyss with a newfound understanding of what exactly it meant to truly be other. For that pregnant seemingly endless pause, he felt the metaphorical hand the Hunter extend, and accepted it. There was a bond between them now...
Then there was the searing pain.
“Good God, woman, what are you doing?” Alucard hissed.
“I am cleaning your wounds and then I'm applying a salve. After that I will bandage you. What is your problem exactly? I mean, you wish to walk again, yes?” Sypha never looked up at him while she systematically worked him over, completely unsympathetic to his protests and hissing.
“I think I would rather be lame.” He squawked as she ruthlessly broke up the yellowed crusts pulling at the edges of his burns.
“You are worse than my children when it comes to this stuff.” Trevor mused, but it was without any bite. “I have to sing them songs when Estée patches up their scrapes so they don't fuss. Well... I did.”
“Does it work?” He grit out. “You are not a healer, you are a menace.” He also directed towards Sypha.
“It took their mind off things. But children are simple like that.”
“Well start singing. It's worth a shot.” He could see the Hunter's brow rise in surprise, faltering at his request. “If you feel so guilty about my current state of affairs you can at least try.”
Trevor's cheeks grew increasingly rosy as he entertained the thought of singing the Dhampyre's pain away. “I only know children's rhymes and church hymns though. In French.” Spoken as if the short selection was going to get him out of the current predicament.
“It's so painful. Try.” He whimpered. In truth, he was already so distracted by the Hunter's flushed features he barely felt Sypha's fastidious approach to wound dressing. Even his hunger had taken a backseat in the coach to make way for speculation of what such a pretty little creature's singing voice would sound like. It didn't really matter what Trevor's talents were, Alucard knew he was going to find it endearing.
To his credit the Hunter didn't renege on the offer. He did stare rather fixedly on a round rock just beside Alucard's hand the entire time his melodic voice filled the air. Sypha stopped her work to listen for a bit, continuing much slower and gentler, and Grant too ceased running over their gear to fill a cup of tea and listen, closing his eyes and leaning back in a very relaxed state. Even the Hunter seemed lost in thought, as if his mind was drifting back to happier times while the little french hymns spilled out of his pretty mouth. In the end, it seemed like the humans had needed the distraction most of all. Collectively they were soothed by the melody they couldn't understand the words of, but the meaning of words were not nearly as important as the feelings they carried. He shared a smile with Grant and Sypha. It was another quiet moment he would never forget. So many of these little moments were building up in such a short time. How he had missed out on so much, while sequestered in his father's Castle. Alive, but never living. What a waste.
Trevor stopped singing abruptly once he realized Alucard was all patched up and he had a rapt audience. The flush returned to his features in record time. “You could have told me you were all done.”
“You have a magickal voice. I didn't feel a thing.” He proclaimed. “My Mother could have put you to work in her hospice.”
“You really do have a lovely voice.” Grant insisted. The Hunter choked back his disbelief and in an obvious fit of embarrassment ordered the other two off to sleep while they had the chance. He would wake them in a little while.
The Dhampyre studied the young man's face, fatigue dulling those grey-blue irises, and strain pulling at his shoulders. “Why not rest too? I cannot sleep right now... But I can keep watch.”
“My blanket was in that bag I dropped.” Trevor somewhat explained with a sigh. “My wife knit that blanket for me.”
“I... am sorry.”
“It's just a blanket.” Trevor sighed again. “It's more the fact that she'll never knit me another one.”
Alucard chewed his lip, unsure where to go from there. “Well... My mother sewed me this cloak. It took her a long time to embroider it, as she used gold thread. It wasn't easy to work with. I don't mind sharing it, if you don't mind sharing some body heat.”
“I thought Vampyres didn't really feel the cold?” Trevor inquired softly, considerate of his already snoring companions.
“I am not a whole Vampyre. And I am injured.” It wasn't a complete lie. He did get cold in the dead of winter, but he was more or less fine now. However, even if Trevor could have still run for miles, it didn't mean he couldn't also look cold and exhausted, and in need of some shut eye. He unfurled his cloak when the Hunter decided upon accepting his offer, wrapping them both up snugly in it, even if it meant they'd have to sit near curled into each other. The Hunter didn't seem to mind their flush proximity too much, and certainly Alucard delighted in it, so they were content to stay like that.
“Your mother did a wonderful job. It's so plush and warm... I am sorry she will never sew you another one.”
“As am I.” He agreed sadly.
Seeing as they were so closely folded together, he felt more than saw the Hunter tense up, muscles tightening gradually until there was nothing left to do but just ask the question already. Alucard knew what it would be, but it didn't make it any easier to answer. “What happened to her?”
Fair enough question on his part, given how just the other night the Dhampyre had dragged a child bridegroom story out of Hunter. Trauma for a trauma, and all. The nightmare had happened so long ago, for a moment he felt he could lay out the story with clinical detachment. As his lips parted, that changed. Now he was the one tensing muscles, body mimicking the huddling fearful position he recalled being trapped in before the pyres that burned his mother. In his throat was a painful stone, so heavy and choking, the words could only escape in the softest of whispers. “You had a concern as a boy that the rumours of your mother bedding a demon would have her dragged into the street, did you not?” He felt the Hunter nod against his shoulder. “My mother bed a demon. She carried that demon's child. She used strange 'witchcraft' to heal the sick, so it stood to reason she could also be to blame for bad crops, bad health, unsightly boils, your spouse's infidelity... Anything. Lisa was the Devil of the Castle's wife. One evening as she was tending to those who had come down with the plague, the Church did just what you feared would happen to the Belmont before you. They dragged her out into street and to a great pyre assembled in the middle of Wallachia. Along the way she was pelted with rocks and stabbed with sharpened sticks. I followed after her, but I didn't know what to do. What could a small child do? I watched that entire town string her up, a woman who had tended to their sick for years, and light the fire. She begged me not to hate your kind in those last moments. She insisted yours was a pitiful and fearful lot. After that all she could do was scream until the fire stole her voice... I watched her burn.”
“Alucard...” Trevor faltered.
The words continued to pour out unbidden. “I hated you all so much. I hated how stupid and spiteful you allowed yourselves to become in your blind ignorance. I hated that you were capable of killing an innocent woman who did only good. When my Father came for me it was so easy to help him maim and kill every single human in sight. But no matter how many of you I hunted down, it just made the pain greater. I wanted vengeance but she had wanted me to give you mercy. She had always wanted me to understand this half of my blood, just as she had always hoped one day the humans around us would understand how much we could teach them. It all came to a head one night when I climbed into the home of a young family to drain the life out of them. Their small children were not afraid of me... They were bewildered that I was there to hurt them. What had they done, after all? And that is what broke me. What had they done? Nothing. They hadn't burned my mother. My mother had been dead for well over a hundred years by this point. Nobody alive today had anything to do with what was done to my family. So... I left. I went back to the Castle and hid away in my room for decades maybe, I lost track of time, wondering what I could do to honour her wishes.”
“Did you figure out what that was?”
“Yes I did. Twenty-six years ago a woman came to the Castle to stop my Father. This Hunter did not fear me, and she was willing to talk. I learned from her how much suffering my father's grief caused, and just by the manner in which she treated me I knew hers was the right way to go. Continuing on with this ceaseless rage was only hurting my Father, just as much as it hurt the lives of all these innocent people around him. I... hoped to spare her the confrontation with Dracula. I attempted to reason with him, just as my Mother would have wanted. But he would not hear Lisa's final plea. He struck me down as a traitor and liar. I never did learn what became of Sonia Belmont... Not until I saw you and that whip.”
“You knew my mother?”
“I never believed in fate per say, but I cannot deny that there is often some cosmic order at play. My Mother wanted me to love mankind. Your mother had a philosophy that demon and man alike could coexist so long as we could communicate, cooperate, and meet one another in the middle. Essentially the same belief as Lisa Țepeș. Both of these women put me on this path, the one that leads me to confront my father once again. Both these women are gone... But in their memory I have found the right way to honour my mother's dying wish. I love my demon kin. I think we've as much right to life as any of you. And even though I am afraid of the hate your kind are capable of, and I've received nothing but open scorn, I do love mankind. You have a right to live too. My Father... He will not see reason. We must release him from his misery for Lisa's sake.”
“You knew my mother...” Trevor whispered again. “I don't believe in fate either, but... I mean... It has to mean something right?”
“It means I am doubly indebted to you. For your mother's inspiring spirit, and for your courage to face my Father with me.” Alucard intoned. His tone fell to a hush as his breath ghosted by the Hunter's ear. “Thank you for asking. I have never had anyone to share my sorrow with. My Father was always so full of rage, I could never grieve with him.” When the young Belmont tried to apologize for the suffering he'd had at the hands of mankind, he shushed the boy with a press of fingers to soft lips. “All those who have wounded me have passed on long ago. You have nothing to apologize for.”
The Hunter shifted slightly, worming his way closer until they could have been mistaken for two lovers, holding one another under the heavy cloak in an attempt to beat the cold. When he was left half cradling a Hunter who seemed content to curl under his chin for comfort, the sleepy sounding boy asked Alucard to tell him about Sonia Belmont. “I miss her so much.” He explained.
How could he say no? He described the way she dressed – so inappropriate for a woman of noble birth. The way she flicked her braid as she thought, yanked it as she fumed, and toyed with it when she was confident. He described how firm but fair her demeanour was. How she joked at the worst possible times just to get a rise out of others. How she moved liked a dancer when she fought the devils in the dark. As he spoke, the Hunter in his arms drifted off into a peaceful sleep. At some point he stopped describing Sonia and started describing Trevor. Confessing all his desires and anxieties to the dreaming boy, asking forgiveness for his lust and hunger that would never be granted. Some point later, all was still. Their companions snored away in their bedrolls just as Trevor was finally getting some quality rest. They may have needed to get up and get going towards the village... But they needed to rest too.
Alucard shrugged out of his half of the cloak and better wrapped Trevor in it, leaned back against the tree and stared out into the wilderness.
At peace.
*****
Sypha's salves would have no doubt worked wonders, if only he was more human. The cooling tingle was soothing at least and masked the agony slightly. More it was the simple fact that she cared to tend to him that worked the most miracles. She fussed over him with the same zeal she displayed when prodding the Hunter, all the while teasing him that they had left the two of them on watch only to wake up on their own accord and find their watchman asleep on the job. Of course he didn't bother to inform her he had been merely resting his eyes. A Dhampyre didn't need to see danger. He'd sense it. Smell it. Besides, she didn't seem that upset at being left defenceless as she slept, seeing as how the Hunter was resting so quietly in his arms. A turn of events both the Mage and the Rogue were still pleased about. Not a nightmare in sight. Another miracle.
“If I had known holding him was all it took to get some peace and quiet, I would have cuddled the lad sooner.” Grant said with a laugh, packing their diminished supplies. It was almost daylight once again. The exhausted humans had slumbered all through the afternoon, into the evening and all through the night. They quivered with hunger, but the rest had been direly needed.
When everything was nearly packed, he was left reluctantly with the task of waking the Hunter. The bleary eyed boy rolled out of the velvet cloak and to his feet in one smooth action, legs already set in motion towards the village of Yomi. The others filed in after him, and Alucard followed close behind, his mangled appendages keeping up to the task for now. There was near silence as they marched, four fatigued and famished wraiths traversing the wilds of Dora Woods. With the rising sun, what little Moroi there was that hadn't been drawn to the Sunken City were of no threat. Given the relative safety of daytime, they made good travel time, encouraged by the plumes of smoke in the ever closing distance. By early evening they crested the last hilly thicket that opened up to Yomi's waiting gates.
To their dismay, the village seemed largely abandoned. Homes were left vacant, shutters and doors clattering in the harsh wind. At the heart of the village square were the crude attempts at fortifications, the scrap wood and iron bulwark clearly designed and applied by unskilled hands. Behind the walls lay a few families locked tightly in their homes. No one was eager to open up to strangers, and they could not be blamed for their fear. The trio of humans scattered in search of anything of use in the vacant homes, as well as a place to rest.
Through weathered battered shutters Alucard spotted the curious eyes of a child watching him before someone inside yanked the child back into hiding. In response he pulled up the hood of his cloak, wary of any other curious unseen eyes. Concealed by magick or not, the Dhampyre felt exposed and vulnerable in daylight. He'd almost prefer if the group decided upon sleeping outdoors as they had the previous night. At least the dead did not carry torches, brandishing crucifixes in the other. Uneasy, he trailed after the Hunter, following his scent to a ransacked shop's storehouse, whereupon inside he found the young man dragging a heavy display table from the centre of the room.
Without being asked, he took the Hunter's place and tossed aside the sturdy table effortlessly. The Hunter gave him a strange little smile before flipping up a rug to reveal a hidden cellar beneath the floorboards. “So predictable” The Hunter mused, throwing open the cellar door. “And I see I am not the only one who thought so.” He continued with far less enthusiasm. Alucard stepped around to the Hunter's side to better peer into the cellar, seeing the cause of the young man's flat tone. The shelves were mostly bare, urns and sacks overturned and empty in no discernible order. Someone had just about cleared the hidden storehouse out. The Hunter ducked down inside the damp cellar regardless, coming up with only a handful of silver daggers and a single jar of something brined. “Fish, I think.” He said in reply to Alucard's raised eyebrow. Wordlessly they left the shop side by side, seeking out Sypha who had decided upon a solidly built home they could stay in for the time being.
“How are your legs?” Trevor asked quite suddenly.
“I am much better.”
“You are still limping.” The Hunter stated thoughtfully. “It is my fault.”
“Hush. You saved me, I saved you. This is the last I want to hear of your guilt.”
“But still...”
“I hadn't anticipated you'd be as heavy as you are. For little bat feet that is. Your lithe and small stature are quite deceptive of your strength, Hunter.”
Trevor, successfully distracted from his guilty conscience, snapped defensively. “I am not small. You are enormous. And I am only skinny because everybody in Wallachia is slowly starving to death. Myself included. By the time we reach the infernal Castle I will already have one foot in the grave” He finished, visibly irritated.
The Dhampyre raised his hands. “I meant no offence. Quite the opposite in fact.” He pacified.
The Hunter crossed his arms and muttered half under his breath. “ I am pretty tall. For a human.” But seemed to leave it at that.
With nothing apparent to do, he settled against the wall alongside the fireplace and watched the humans scurry about, divvying up scavenged supplies, rolling out bedrolls in the upstairs bedrooms, and preparing what little food they could ration. Grant tossed wood in the pit and Alucard made the small contribution of starting a roaring flame. The last of the meagre energy he'd regained over the day. It did not take the flames long to take the bite out of the air.
“Nothing much.” Grant was saying in regards to what he saw in his foray. “There were some deep grooves and gouges in some of the homes. Some dark stains too. Probably... Well, probably blood.”
“I wonder how long ago this village was attacked.” Sypha sighed. “The people holed up in the village centre, I wonder why they haven't left.”
“Where would they run to?” Trevor answered, just as subdued.
As they settled down to partake of their meagre meal, Alucard took to wandering the gloomy halls of the house. It was a rather large dwelling for a village of this size, he wondered perhaps if this had once been the home of a mayor or local lord. The sparse literature found in a small study left much to be desired... Until he spotted the corner of a book peeking out from it's hiding place amongst some embroidered cushions. Almost as if the owner had been forced to secret it away in a haste. The Latin text was indeed a treasure, it turned out, and he continued meandering through small rooms and cramped halls, twirling the text on a finger and bouncing it back and forth between his hands. Other than some antique furniture, there really wasn't much else of note in their shelter for the evening. Before returning to the dining room he stopped by a broad window, throwing open the shutters to startle two wide-eyed children peering through the slats. His glamour was maintained, in spite of the overcast daylight filtering in, but sometimes children were in possession of such unique innocent perceptions that they could see through such illusions. Fear wafted off of them, just as it was worn naked upon their soot-smudged faces.
“It's rude to peep in on others.” He spoke softly, aware that an 'enormous' man with a deep voice would be rather imposing for creatures so small. His considerations did nothing to ease them, their ever widening eyes, the size of saucers by this point, fixed solidly on his lips... His teeth. Unique perceptions it was then. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. When he opened them, the same stricken faces were waiting to greet him. Finger finding it's way to his lips in thought, he pondered what to do about the current situation. “I am not here to hurt you, little ones. I am not here to hurt your families. Go back to your mother's apron strings and say nothing of this.” Whether from Vampyric Force of Will or fear, the bony children took off at a full run towards the questionable safety of their fortifications.
Mentally he added avoided children to his list of priorities.
Grant was just stepping out the door when he returned to the main living area. The table was cleared of all but a borrowed teapot, procured chipped cups, and the spread of dried herbs and powders Sypha was cataloguing, reorganizing and such.
“He found a blacksmith's abandoned workshop earlier.” Sypha explained as the door clicked shut behind the Rogue. “He's going to sharpen their blades. I am going to go over what we have left.” The Hunter flinched but before he could apologize yet again she shushed him. “You are what is important. And you are injured, so go rest up. That goes for you as well, Alucard.”
Guilt must have made the Hunter more agreeable, as he pulled away from the table wordlessly and motioned the Dhampyre to follow, which he did. It wasn't like he had anything else in particular to do, and it was probably best to stay out of sight in the odd chance any of the frightened villagers worked up the courage to investigate either small child's claims. Dried out wooden steps groaned under his weight, but thankfully that was all. He ducked under the low door frame of the small bedroom Trevor selected, the Hunter closing the door behind them after some hesitation.
The room was sparse, with only a small writing desk, stool, washing basin, and a bed barely large enough for two. He dropped his Latin treasure off on the writing desk and turned back to face the Hunter only to find the young man still facing the door, open palm pressed firmly against the faded wood. It was obvious the Hunter's mind was preoccupied so far be it from him to disturb what ever inner turmoil was going on over there. Right about when the silence and frozen stance was growing awkward, the Hunter exhaled loudly and latched the door.
The sound of the lock sliding into place was deafeningly final.
“You have my full attention.” He promised the conflicted young man before him.
The Belmont hesitated briefly once again before closing the short distance between them, taking a hold of the Dhampyre's pale hand in his own. The other pushed back his sleeve, revealing the still raw lash wounds from the Hunter's blessed whip. No different now then they had been days before when the whip had first branded him during his testing of the brunette's mettle. Demon instinct should have dictated this particular scenario was a cause for concern, but he was much too distracted by the realization that the Hunter had removed his gloves before taking his hand, and the smooth flesh against his own was most welcomed. “You are not healing.” Trevor surmised. “These have not even scabbed over.”
“No.” He admitted.
“I thought you Vampyres were made of tough stuff?”
“I am only half.” He replied carefully. “But I am indeed made of 'tough stuff'. It is just unfortunate that mending undead flesh is much more difficult than damaging it.”
“Is... that because you are not eating?” The Hunter ventured, his words heavy with caution.
“I am eating.” He answered just as cautiously.
“Owls and lesser demons. These aren't... You don't feed on animals and lesser demons. Do you?” The Hunter pursed his lips, studying the Dhampyre's face for a long moment. “The blood of such creatures does not sustain you, does it?” Though Alucard said nothing the Hunter stepped back, nodding to himself. “That's what I thought.”
The intimate size of the small bedroom suddenly felt stiflingly cramped. He gauged how difficult it would be to push past the young Belmont and escape the entirety of this conversation, but before he could make even the slightest movement the absolute vision of the Hunter unlacing his padded armoured vest held the Dhampyre in place, captivated. Trevor moved slowly, shrugging out of the criss-crossed harness that held the garment in place before beginning to unbutton his long leather coat with painful deliberate care. If Alucard did not know any better, he would have sworn the enigmatic boy before him was putting on a deliberate show.
The Dhampyre wet his lips and struggled to find his voice. “What are you doing?” He managed to ask in barely more than a whisper.
The Hunter stopped midway through his task to meet the Dhampyre's yellow eyes. His hopefully still yellow eyes. “Is it true that in order to turn a human into one of your kind they would need to partake of your blood? In my family's Bestiary the passages say so. One logged case even speculates that the amount a human can consume without becoming Moroi is variable, as one hunter swallowed some splashback from a staking. He never turned.”
“I have never turned a human.” He admitted. “But yes. You must drink the blood of one to be come like us... Why are you asking me about this so suddenly?”
Rather than answer him right away the Hunter continued to unbutton his coat, divesting himself of it almost ceremoniously. His mind swimming with dozens of thoughts about this display, the only real one that managed to fully form was his mild surprise that underneath that padded vest and ornate coat, Trevor Belmont did indeed wear a shirt. One threadbare, sleeves rolled high, and barely laced past his navel. Living art. That's what this seductive little creature was before him. Living, breathing art.
“Alucard.” The Hunter startled him. When had he moved so close? “Can you feed... you know... Without killing?”
All the gears in his addled mind suddenly clicked into place and with perfect clarity he fixed the young Hunter with a gaze of stony seriousness. “Yes.” His voice strained to keep the hunger and desperate longing out of it. “But do you know what you are offering?”
“Does... Does it hurt?” The Hunter inquired softly.
No longer able to keep his voice level, he replied with naked desire, just as softly. “I have never been bitten... However those I bite... They seem to enjoy my fangs sinking into their tender flesh.” He stepped closer, towering over the small human boy. “Intensely.”
The Hunter stepped back instinctively, his back flush against the latched wooden door, and it took every shred of his waning self control not to pounce upon his chosen prey. He knew the yellow was long gone from his eyes and any sense of humanity was rapidly diminishing after it.
“I haven't fed properly in three decades, Trevor Belmont. If you have any doubts or uncertainty, you need to leave right this second. I will not follow.”
The Hunter swallowed visibly and unhooked the hallowed whip from his belt, but otherwise held firm. He turned his head partially to the side, the grip on the glowing whip tightening. “Please try not to hurt me. I will defend myself.”
With presumably the final tenuous hold on his monstrous side slipping free from his grasp, he cleared the space between them in a single bound. One hand tangled in the long chestnut hair at the base of the Hunter's skull, to better twist his head and fully bare his vulnerable neck, all the while pushing and pinning the Hunter flush against the door with the other. The offer was too great... His hunger was too overwhelming. There should have been nothing holding him back from this desired, freely offered feast and yet... He froze in place with fangs bared. Blood red eyes trailed over the Hunter's face. Trevor's eyes were shut tight, his jaw and the tendons in his neck taut with the anticipation of pain. No doubt if he looked, he'd find the Hunter's grip on the Vampyre Killer white-knuckled.
Unbidden and unstoppable came memories from a long dead past. Memories of being an unruly child sneaking in and out of his mother's bedchambers at odd hours in search of sweets, only to come across his father drinking from her neck, There was never any fear or tension in Lisa's body when his father enveloped her. She eased into his father's embrace willingly, and he did not fall upon her like a starved and crazed animal. Her sighs were wistful as his father combed through her hair and kissed her flesh. Always slow, always deliberate and reverent. Lisa was never just giving Dracula her lifeblood. She and the Master of the Castle shared the treasured, intimate experience. She submit to him out of her love, and he returned those sentiments in spades with his actions.
Once more he looked over the small brunette in his arms, only this time without the urgency of his appetite. This was a gift from the Hunter. It should be accepted and savoured with the gratitude it deserved. Had he not decided days ago that he would not harm this boy? Slowly, he untangled his fingers from the knotted mess he'd created, and worked them gently to brush the kinks out of the Hunter's hair. The arm pinning the Hunter to the door instead trailed along his side to rest on his hip, pulling the other closer without any threat or urgency. Fangs retreating somewhat inside his gums, he lowered his head, tongue tracing from collar to jawbone along the path of the vein he could smell just below the pallid skin. Lips closing into a soft kiss at the junction, he ghosted smaller kisses up to the Hunter's ear, tracing the shell of it before returning to the bared throat to give it the same attention.
Through aimless exploration he discovered one by one which swatches of flesh responded to gentle kisses and which preferred the lap of a tongue. Occasionally he'd allow his fangs to lightly scrape the Hunter's skin, reminding him of where this was all going to lead to, but Trevor never pulled away. So the Dhampyre pulled back to gauge the Hunter's reaction to his unorthodox approach to feeding and found the boy looking off at nothing with heavy, lidded, and unfocused eyes. His lips were slightly parted in a natural and relaxed fashion, and Alucard could feel no tension in the small frame held up against him.
Taking heed of the positive sign, he decided to indulge himself, bringing the hand from it's place on Trevor's hip to slide inside the Hunter's half-laced shirt. The soft skin there was just as pleasurable to the touch as he had recalled. He could bear this tantalization no more so using his hips and the door to hold the Hunter in place, he picked at the rest of the laces with unsteady, excited fingers, exposing the pale terrain to admire openly.
“What are you doing?” Trevor asked in a dreamy voice.
In response he ran his hands up the Hunter's body until he could cup his face, tipping it upwards to meet those lidded pale blue irises with his own once again yellow. “I was thinking,” He paused to kiss the Hunter's neck. “that it would be best,” Another lap of his tongue. “if I bit you,” A long trail of his tongue sealed with a kiss. “somewhere nobody...” He came to rest his forehead against the Hunter's, nuzzling him affectionately as he finished. “Shall see.”
A soft thud upon the barren floor rang out along the small walled enclosure. Trevor had dropped the blessed whip.
“That... is a good idea.” Trevor relented, placing the hands Alucard hadn't even realized were pushing against him instead to rest along the taut muscles of the Dhampyre's arms. He made a thoughtful noise while the Hunter, and to be perfectly honest, fondled the Dhampyre's personage, though whatever he concluded was not shared. That didn't stop Alucard from letting out a low purr to let the Hunter know how much he enjoyed the hands exploring the slopes of his muscles. Predictably, that only resulted in the dreamy-eyed creature freezing in place, crimson creeping across his features.
Alucard made what he hoped was a soothing noise and finished unlacing the threadbare shirt as he casually walked them step by tiny step towards the bed. Completely beholden to this tantalizingly docile creature before him. Only once the mattress hit the back of the brunettes knees did he pull himself out of the reverie completely.
“What are you doing?” Trevor demanded firmly, suspicion creeping into his eyes.
For a Belmont to fall under his seductive spell, there had to be the desire to do so. After all, Sonia Belmont had resisted his father's Force of Will. It was impossible to believe a starved weakened half-breed like himself could ever truly control a creature like Trevor Belmont, and the proof was right now laid before him. The spell had been broken. But what if the desire was still there..?
Alucard continued his careful seduction undeterred, combing lovingly through chestnut hair while he trailed kisses along the bared collarbone, stopping at the perfect curve where neck met shoulder that he could sink his teeth into. “You will lose the strength in your legs when I feed.” He explained. "I do not wish for you to hurt yourself when you fall.”
“We'll see.” Trevor answered without any of the wariness from moments earlier.
His breath hitched when Alucard positioned his fangs, and his grip on the Dhampyre's arms tightened to the point of pain. Alucard pulled away ever so slightly so as to catch the Hunter's attention. “You should not feel any pain, if you allow my Will to bend yours that far.” Whispered promise barely fell from his lips before he was back at that inviting curve, porcelain fangs at last breaching the flesh.
All at once the heat and the scent overpowered his senses. The tang on his tongue undercut with such sweetness... Perfection. Nothing ever had, nor ever would taste as divine as the Belmont in his arms. Greedily he gulped mouthfuls down, carefully lowering the Hunter down as his strength gave way, only to fall over the gently writhing body below. The small wet moans and needy whimpers only served to encourage him. His hands must have caressed every inch of the Hunter and he realized through some unfamiliar instinct - Human perhaps? - that he was actively seeking out every source of friction he could generate between their entwined bodies. The sensation preoccupied him enough that it was almost easy to pull away from the bite before he devoured too much of the Hunter's strength.
Sated and content, he settled in a comfortable sprawl half across the exquisite boy, stroking his bared flesh and enjoying the raw beauty of his indisposition, occasionally dipping in to lap at the trickle of blood from the puncture wounds. Trevor breathed slowly, almost as if he were asleep, but he watched Alucard fawn over him without any protest. After a few minutes had passed, the Hunter gathered the strength to reach out and weakly grip the Dhampyre's locks.
“Your hair...” Trevor faltered. “Your face.”
He quirked an eyebrow but it soon dawned on him that Trevor was touching his hair. His real white hair. He'd been so overtaken with his own pleasure that he had lost the hold on his glamour. Such a trivial little spell of illusion and yet... Well there was nothing to be done about that now. “This is my real face.” He explained. “I thought if I hid my face I could just vanish into thin air when this whole affair with my father was all done with.”
“No one gets away from Trevor Belmont.” The sleepy Hunter stated with a small smile. “I prefer this face, Alucard.”
Laughter overtook in spite of himself. “Well I am glad to hear that, since this is the face I was born with.” Sidling up closer to the Hunter, he continued to trace shapes both real and imagined upon the Hunter's slender torso. “If I am being honest... Increasingly, I find myself thinking I am not so sure I want to get away from you, even after we finish what we started, Trevor Belmont.”
The Hunter's eyes narrowed as he tried to focus. “You keep saying things like that, Alucard.”
“Adrian.”
“Hmm?”
“You have seen my true face. When it is just you and I and the walls, please... Use my name.”
The Hunter fell silent, eyes turned inward, so the Dhampyre curled closer still, ceasing his drawings to simply hold the human in a relaxed embrace. The instinct to do just so was as strange as the urges to seek out that friction between their bodies earlier, yet he felt much closer to discerning what exactly he was feeling. This human need, and a wonderful one at that...
“Adrian.” Trevor began in a tentative voice, testing his given name. “It's not supposed to be like that, is it?”
His own name sounded like heaven when spoken by that voice. Rather than answer straight away, he leaned over to glide his tongue along the bite wound, sealing it with a soft kiss. The ministrations drew a small pleasured sigh from the Hunter, and he decided right then that particular loving action would be his signature brand upon the Hunter's flesh. One of countless more if the Hunter would only have him. “Trevor... If you will allow it, than I swear between you and I, it will always be just as it is now.”
“Why must you keep saying things like that? Like you are...” Trevor frowned. “I am not a...” Suddenly lucidity rushed back into the brunette and he sat bolt upright. “I am in bed.” He realized. “You are in bed. With me.”
“Humans double up on cold winter nights for body heat, do they not?”
“You are not suppose to caress your bunk-mate like you have been doing. It's not even bloody night!” Trevor shot back firmly.
“You are not supposed to let a Vampyre partake of your blood either. Not very Christian of you, but I promise I will not tell.” The Dhampyre teased. “You seem more upset with yourself than with I.”
“I am not upset with anyone. You were suffering and I didn't care to see it prolong. It's just that... well...” The Hunter let out an exasperated noise. “That isn't how you feed... That was...” His defiant glare withered away from one moment to the next upon remembering he was missing half of his garments, and of the remaining ones, Alucard had nearly divested.
While the Hunter busied himself attempting to cover up a body that deserved to be on display, Alucard sat up and decided this was an opportune moment to test out a little pet theory he'd been harbouring for the better part of a century. “You are too enticing for words, Trevor Belmont.” He declared before sinking his teeth back into the original bite, purposefully refraining from drawing any blood.
The shocked Hunter's hands did not simply grip him as they had before, instead winding around his neck, Trevor's fingers coiling into his hair in some conflicted attempt to both push the Dhampyre closer at the same time as pull him away. Scant moments later the brunette was once again writhing against him and losing the battle to stifle those delicious, delectable sounds, leading Alucard to confirm his suspicions. It appeared it was that simply the act of penetration and submission to his Will was what brought his prey to the brink of ecstasy. Further experimentation revealed all kinds of quirks and techniques he had been oblivious of until then. One had to wonder how many of his kind were unaware of the various ways they could work their Force of Will and seductive powers. He found the initial penetration of his fangs caused a sharp spike of pleasure that faded, and that withdrawing them only to sink into waiting flesh again gave more or less an equal amount of pleasure. Yet the longer he bit into the Hunter, the more desperate his whimpers grew, the more urgently he clung to and writhed against Alucard's body. An easy formula to remember. Short and often to tease, long and sustained to drive the Hunter mad from pleasure. Perhaps he should write a book for future generations?
“Adrian...” Trevor cried out weakly, almost like a warning, but for what he couldn't fathom. Nor could he care about anything but how deliriously good it felt to hear the Hunter call out his name in such a fashion.
In the moment proceeding his outburst the Hunter pulled Alucard down on top of him with incredible strength, his body wound more tightly than the clockwork in his Father's Castle. He had the sense that Trevor needed to be held, so he did just that until he felt the Hunter relax, ligament by ligament until he lay still and peaceful. He continued to hold him for long after that. The young Hunter who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders slept soundly in his arms for a long time. On his part, he rested rather comfortably, the aches and fatigue from decades of starvation melting away in the bliss and potency of the Belmont's taste.
For a fleeting time he returned to his initial fantasy, imagining that this was all there was to life. Like the days of his youth spent leisurely in his father's court, only with this delightful creature as his plaything. He'd dress Trevor in spun gold and combed Egyptian silk. His mother would tend her herbs and flowers, and he'd let her thread blooms in his hair without the fuss while his father quietly observed their antics with the same jovial smile that had long since vanished in present day. He would ask Lisa to weave a floral crown for his pet human too so as to chase him down the marble corridor and through the chapel in order to coronate him. There was never any great plague in Wallachia, so Lisa never spent her days wallowing in the sick who would one day turn on her. Angry, frightened, and pitiable humans never misplaced their fear and anger at their uncaring gods upon his sweet mother. She never had to beg him with her dying breath not to hate. His father never had to spend the following centuries massacring the people of this now blighted land. It was just his family and his pretty little pet he'd turn one day forever in harmony. But that was why it was a fantasy. Nothing was forever.
Sypha's gentle rapping at the door roused him but not the Hunter. He untangled their limbs and quickly folded over the half naked Hunter's shirt for the sake of his modesty before unlatching the door. The sorceress seemed mildly surprised by their cramped and shared sleeping arrangement, yet she held her tongue on the matter.
“Care to take watch?” The question was directly solely at him after she had studied the Hunter's rare untroubled respite.
“It would be my pleasure.” He made no show of grabbing his cloak and draping it over Trevor before closing the door behind him, instead acting as if the urge to do so was the most natural thing. The sorceress' cool eyes were still studying him when he turned to face her.
“He has really taken to you.” She mused but it felt a little forced.
“I would not harm him.” He assured her, waving off her denials. “You've a right to be concerned, Sypha. I am the son of Vlad Dracula Țepeș. I take no offence.”
The Dhampyre left her there to ruminate and descended the creaking stairs. The ground floor was well warmed by the fire and rather pleasant given the past few nights of cold hard ground and harsh winds. A chair he took had conveniently been dragged before a window overlooking the north and eastbound roads, as well as the collection of homes still occupied in this largely abandoned village. The only change he made to the arrangement was to partially close the shutters so as to obscure the villagers from peering in, lest he find any more uniquely perceptive children spying.
Nothing of note crossed the roads, save some wild pack of dogs, as he kept silent vigil. Soon his mind wandered back up the stairs, to the taste and heat and conflicted yet needy moans of the Hunter. Truly an exquisite dish, that one, with a flavour any demon would be happy to come home to. It was there in a quiet reverie that he sat for the better part of the early morning, when the first dusting of snow settled over the dying village. Sharp Dhampyric hearing picked up some stirring from the upper floor, so as a courtesy he gathered the herbs and such to brew the tea Sypha made daily, preparing it as best he could recall from watching her. As the kettle came to a boil the whisper of the Hunter's coattails across the wooden floor stopped just short of the small stove Alucard hovered over.
“I was certain you would sleep a little longer than that.” The Dhampyre spoke softly.
The Hunter's voice was subdued when he answered after some delay. “I was cold...” Came the perfectly reasonable response, but the young man self consciously lowered his eyes, hugging his body tight. “...I hadn't realized how much I missed sleeping next to my wife until I fell asleep... you know...” A fleeting expression of vulnerability flashed across the too pretty Hunter's visage before he looked away to avoid Alucard's scrutiny. Yet in those precious few seconds Trevor had unknowingly revealed himself, his true face, cementing the sense of kinship the Dhampyre felt for him. This figure before him was not just a doggedly determined hero, but also a soft, sweet, and shy boy.
Here was another lost soul, as lonely and isolated as he. Yearning for something he didn't quite understand and wasn't sure how to acquire. Could they not learn what they needed together?
“I am sorry, I don't know what I am rambling about. It's just that I feel so strange and confused.” This quiet surrender was the first genuine admission of human limitations the Hunter had confessed to.
Alucard continued to study the subdued creature before him, seemingly on the brink of confiding in him, but perhaps not certain what it was he wanted to confide. The Hunter toyed with the loosening laces of that damned padded vest and shook his head, wrestling with some great inner turmoil.
“Finish your thought.” The Dhampyre encouraged, turning back to the pot of tea only so as to help the Hunter not feel like his every movement was being examined. It was Trevor, he now knew without a doubt, who held the all the answers he was seeking. All these feelings and desires, both strange and wonderful, it was Trevor who would make sense of it all.
Another famously long Belmont pause later the young man asked in a small voice. “Which one?”
Eyes forcibly fixed upon the kettle, Alucard replied. “All of them.” He spared only a quick sympathetic glance at the troubled Hunter. “Or simply the one that plagues you most of all.”
“I don't know. I wanted to tell you something but... I don't know how, and I am so confused about it in any regard. Please be honest, the way you were... touching me... Was that normal? Is that how you get your prey to keep still? Should having you on top of me as you were made me act the way that I did?”
“What answer would ease your mind, Trevor?” He inquired.
“The truth.” The Hunter responded without delay.
“Well...” He began with a small smile, dropping his glamour so he wore the face Trevor preferred. “The truth is that it does not matter how I have fed in the past. I have never held any affection for those I have fed upon. I have never cared if my prey was comfortable or enjoying the experience. I do feel this great warmth in my chest when I am in your presence, however, so I did want you to enjoy the moment alongside me. I certainly enjoyed myself.”
“I can see that.” The Hunter said faintly.
“I can tell you why I acted the way I did, Trevor. It gave me pleasure to feel your skin beneath my own. It gave me pleasure to hear your voice, knowing it was my touch that made you gasp and moan in the restrained fashion you did. But I cannot tell you why you never told me to stop, Trevor. Do you regret submitting? Was it because it felt too good and you feel guilty about that? Or was it because you knew it was my intention to ensure you felt good while you were under me?” He stopped for his own version of the Belmont Pause to gather the courage to ask next. “Are you angry with me for that desire of mine?”
“I am confused right now... But no, I am not angry with you. You didn't force me to do anything, and I didn't ask you to stop, as you said. I just need to examine what happened a little... Perhaps? Honestly I don't know what to think or feel right now. Chalk it up to this fever is addling my brain, I suppose.”
At this remark the Dhampyre did turn back and face the Hunter, reaching out with the back of his hand to confirm the feverish heat of the Hunter's brow. It seemed much warmer than it had back in the cave when the three starved humans had stumbled into his place of rest. This was quite possibly his fault. His blasted hunger had weakened the ailing Belmont passed the tipping point. “I should not have fed upon you while you were fighting off this sickness. This is my fault.”
“No.” Trevor insisted. “This has been a long time coming. I haven't stopped since I left France, and a lot of terrible things have happened since then.”
“Losing blood certainly didn't help matters.” He growled, ashamed of himself.
The Hunter resumed toying with the laces of his vest, speaking in a tone one would be hard pressed not to call shy. “You needed to eat. I only have one Dhampyre, after all. I have to take care of you.”
Having watched Trevor tie and retie the blasted laces of his protective garment a dozen times in such a short span of time, the Dhampyre's frustration with himself found the perfect outlet to misdirect his anger. With a disarming smile he circled around behind the Hunter who stiffened when his arms wrapped around the smaller man's waist. “Please allow me.” He requested, savouring the return of Trevor's proximity as well as releasing a fractional bit of self-loathing with every lace he intricately secured snugly. Because he was a demon of Desire and wholly besotted with the pretty little brunette in his arms, he took the laces in a little tighter at the narrowest part of Trevor's anatomy to better accentuate his form. The task was worked in no particular hurry, leaving ample time to enjoy the feel of the Belmont in his arms, his lips ghosting Trevor's ear, mere inches from where his fangs had penetrated the Hunter's virgin flesh. If unsteady breaths were anything to go by, this was not lost on Trevor either.
Guilty and ashamed to continue his advances on an ailing man yet unable to resist baser desires, he drew his tongue across the fang marks as fingers worked to fastened the last of the laces. Trevor squirmed in his grasp, unsure how to react to the sensation, as he suckled the puncture marks, occasionally planting his light signature kiss, each mark a desperate attempt to brand Trevor's flesh with the memory of his touch. Finally out of laces to use as an excuse, the Dhampyre regretfully ceased his pleasurable assault only to wrap the Belmont in a nearby blanket and settle him down by the fire before he regained his proper senses.
“I feel strange.” Trevor said, sounding unsure of the simple statement.
“You have a terribly high fever. Sit here by the fire and drink this.” He explained, offering the young man a cup of tea, before slyly shifting the conversation back to the initial topic Trevor had tried and failed to broach. It was a very innocent sounding offer he made. “If you sleep more soundly with someone next to you, I can hold you while you rest here by the fire. It's just as easy to keep watch from here as it is by the window.”
“I am not a frightened child.” The Hunter insisted defensively.
“I never said you were. What I am saying is that I will hold you if you want me to.”
“Even I am not that naive, Adrian. I... I know what is on your mind but... It's not that simple. I am married with children. A married man.” The Hunter paused for emphasis. “A man.”
Rather than respond to the veiled accusation, he took a comfortable seat, back against one side of the fireplace and opened his arms invitingly. The Hunter was correct. As much as he thought of him as child-like and in need of protection, he was a grown human male who had bested him in a fair fight. This Belmont was a man with a mission, and in full control of his actions. Alucard felt he had made his intentions as plain as day, and whatever Trevor chose to do about that was for Trevor Belmont alone to decide. To his great satisfaction the Hunter crawled to his side, wearing a bewildered look.
“Is this how Vampyric seduction works? Do you coddle your victim into willing submission? It is rather clever...”
His sigh was equal parts exasperation and amusement. “You are not my victim Trevor Belmont and I am exerting no Force of Will over you. It wouldn't work on you without your consent even if I tried. You are a Belmont.” He gave the young man a look of sympathy. “Your actions are your own, so if they leave you in confusion, try to contemplate your motives.”
This Belmont pause truly was the longest one yet. Trevor studied his true face with intensity, his own a perfect impenetrable mask. “If... If my actions were under no influence than I must apologize to you.”
“Whatever for?”
“I have done something untoward you. Please accept my apology.”
“You know I think you are right. That fever really has addled your brain. You have done nothing wrong by me.”
“Just trust me. I have. If you hadn't realized than just for the ease of my guilt, please accept my apology.”
He threw up his hands, lost and defeated. “You are without a doubt the strangest creature I have ever laid eyes upon, but it is a fascinating quality and part of your charm, I suppose. Very well, I accept this mysterious apology for this unknown offence you believe you have committed.”
“Thank you.”
The Dhampyre reached out then and pulled the Hunter to him, curling the boy in his lap to hold most comfortably. The flickering light from the fireplace danced in the pale blue eyes studying him. “Whatever you choose to give me, I will accept, young Belmont. Your time. Your words. Your smile. Your thoughts. Even your strange apologies.”
Trevor did not fight to break away from his cradling. Instead the Hunter rested his full weight against him, surrendering to heat and comfort. “I am in danger...” The Belmont bemoaned.
“No, the world is in danger. You are just feverish.”
“But what happened upstairs-”
“What happened upstairs was upstairs. We are downstairs now and you must rest some more.” He attempted to sooth, stroking the boys hair as he sipped his tea, and long after he had taken the empty cup from the unconscious Hunter's hands.
As they curled together in the warmth of the fire, Alucard gazed out at the muted flicker of lights from the village's few occupied homes, wondering how everything could be so perfect for him right when everything was so wrong with the world beyond.
Chapter 12: Shadow in the Sea of Trees
Chapter Text
June 2037 ~ Aokigahara Jukai
You know, ole Yoko Belnades could name one super sexy sorceress who was getting real sick and tired of traipsing around this muggy Murder-Suicide Forest. The noble cause behind her suffering hardly made it any less aggravating to tip toe along after a Dhampyre too busy with his nose to the ground to make good conversation, especially with Julius in such an irate state her grumpy Uncle was no fun either. Logic dictated they should start the search by the caverns entrance, which they did, and for a while it seemed like Alucard had the witch's scent. Dhampyre nose led them into dense foliage, some pathways so thickly overgrown the party had been reduced to crawling on their bellies to work through, resulting in countless splinters and abrasions. Nothing serious, of course, it was just another minor annoyance. Like the blisters growing on the back heel tendons from her new boots or the sweat running down her spine and right into her ass crack. Just annoying. Deeper still into the forest Alucard's nose led them, only now the mossy roots of the looming trees seemed to stretch out, more distance between each gnarled trunk. A clearing in the woods up ahead maybe?
She was forced to stop dead in her track when the Dhampyre snapped back, nearly taking her out out of shear obliviousness to anything other than the scent trail he was following. He didn't even respond to her snarky 'Excuse you', instead doubling and tripling back, head turning in sharp directions. As she was about to ask if he'd lost the trail she noticed him tilting his head from side to side slowly, finally tucking his long curled locks behind long pointy ears. Yoko watched those silly little elf ears she almost always bloody forgot he had with a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Sure she remembered occasionally he was secretly Legolas, but how had she never before realized those ridiculous ears actually moved? Pointed shells twitched, turning like a dog or rabbit's as they followed some distant sound only he could pick up. Whatever he was hearing was certainly was getting him worked up, she concluded, watching her white-haired stud slink around on all fours following both smell and sound. She wondered why he didn't just morph into a wolf and be done with it. He was three fourths of the way there as is.
To her side Julius readied his weapon, the veteran hunter as surprised as she that the whip's famous demon sensing aura remained dormant. Clearly something was agitating the Dhampyre, but it wasn't hellspawn. Perhaps they were close to the witch? Would the whip shine for a human if Julius thought her evil enough? Not wanting to give another magickal user a heads up by channelling any of her own spells, Yoko drew in closer to Julius, hoping he'd buy her the time to cast a spell if the night called for it. Alucard was growing jerkier and more animalistic by the second, which given what had happened earlier that the day at the hospital gave her some reasonable concerns, so she gave the Dhampyre a wide berth as he peered up into the trees for the source of what he was sensing.
“Do you see or feel anything?” She whispered to the old hunter.
“I don't sense a thing. But that doesn't mean he doesn't.”
There was something she could agree with, given how not only had the Dhampyre's extrasensory talents led them to this impossibly remote location, but it seemed like he had zeroed in on the very tree that held the creature he'd been hunting. Yellow eyes turned to crimson as he circled a large overgrown tangle of a tree, fixed on a point high up in the shadows that neither human could make out from the surrounding murk, his fangs openly bared and claws at the ready. So it seemed like Dhampyres on the hunt favoured their home-grown natural weapons over something much safer and with better range like, let's say for fun, the fricken' silver Zweihänder conveniently sheathed at his side. The Zweihänder he used like a one-handed sword, leaving him that apparently oh-so-satisfying clawing hand to get down and personal with the tree monster. But whatever. She was still miffed at him so let him act like an idiot.
As for the tree monster, it likely wasn't their witch, so why were they even in this hollow chasing this thing down? Maybe it was just chilling in the trees until they bumbled along into it's habitat? She asked just that, suggesting maybe Julius could get the Dhampyre back on the scent trail of who they were actually out here to hunt, but the eerily still hunter shushed her.
“My gut tells me this is a lead.” Julius explained as an afterthought apology for being snippy.
“All right, boss.” She conceded, folding her arms with a huff.
Eyes still watching the shadows, Alucard circled much slower, one hand pushing against every nearby sapling he passed, testing for... something. Another three passes later he seemed to have settled on one particular young tree, and she watched him make several calculations in his head, always making sure to not lose sight of the tree monster. When it happened, it was a blink and you'd miss it affair. The Dhampyre leaped, feet landing high along the spry sapling, the weight of a six foot five killing machine bending it to the brink of snapping before the supple wood bounced back, essentially sling-shotting their companion both comically and effectively into the shadowy abyss above.
The tree monster let out a strangled sound, both shock and fear in the tone, and while she could hear it, and see the shaking leaves from tree to tree on it's path to escape, she could not for the life of her make out exactly what it was. It was like the light was bending around and away from it's shape, making it appear as if the leaves and bark and night sky were distorting. An excellent disguise of some kind, but not one made by magickal means. She did think she saw it glide along the trees like a flying squirrel, though, moving quick enough that they'd lose sight of it before long. The forest was just too dense and too dark to properly give chase to a creature that seemed perfectly adapted to the environment.
Obviously Alucard did not share her opinion. With a frustrated snarl he shifted into a wolf form and took off after it, leaving Julius and herself little choice but to hustle after them. It was treacherous footing at first but the more they ran the more spaced out the forest grew. Up ahead was a wide opening, though with the fog and overcast weather she couldn't quite make out what was there yet. Down the treeline Alucard was gaining ground on the mysterious creature, his form shifting into that of a large bat to intercept the tree monster as it soared between two trees, changing back into his Dhampyre shape at the last second to seize hold of it. For a second it seemed like the tactic had worked, but then she could see the creature secured to a tree trunk via it's presumable clawed feet, the now visible inky black humanoid shape dangling the Dhampyre by one of it's wings.
As Julius and she grew closer, she could see Alucard's forearm appeared to be trapped through the creature's black wing. Even this did not stop the Dhampyre on the hunt, as he changed form yet again into a misty body that surrounded the startled creature, re-materializing right upon it. His weight and the creature's surprise worked perfectly, causing it to lose it's foothold and sending them both careening towards the ground below, where Alucard made sure to pin his prey victoriously. The creature let out such a whimpering sound, and to be honest, Yoko was starting to feel bad for it. It hadn't once attacked in the entire chase. Rather then rush and risk breaking her neck she slowed to a trot, as the tree monster was captured, in hopes of catching her breath only to go ahead lose it just a moment later.
For some reason the Dhampyre backed off, letting the creature sit up, and then even going so far as to fall back on his arse and scoot back until he hit the nearest trunk. Now it was the inky black humanoid that advanced, the silhouette of it's slinky movements reminding Yoko of a porn actress crawling seductively towards the pizza delivery man she didn't have enough money to tip. Judging by how transfixed Alucard was, maybe she wasn't too far off from the mark. Then found she too was kind of brought to a halt under it's strange non-magickal in origin spell. Julius as well came to a halt by her side, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. They really should help Alucard out, she knew, but she stood there and watched the creature crawl up his body until it straddled him, the black membrane coating it's form peeling back to reveal it's face, although from her angle she couldn't make out it's features. The membrane receded further, long hair a colour she couldn't properly make out in such poor lighting spilling out, draping against the Dhampyre's chest as it leaned over him seductively.
She watched Alucard reach out and stroke it's tresses only to be on the receiving end of such attentions soon after. Slowly, the monster and demon explored one another via touch more than observation, both seeming transfixed with one another. The lithe creature's membrane receded even further, exposing pallid flesh in a V shaped pattern that dipped dangerously low in the front, and when Alucard reached out more or less to cop a feel she almost choked on her tongue. The creature watched him explore it's flesh, tilting it's head from side to side in an hypnotic fashion, before it pushed him back against the tree and sealed the strange encounter with a rather passionate kiss. For a moment she was too busy unswallowing her tongue to realize that the peculiar hold on her was dissipating, but Julius, of course, was well ahead of her, winding his still dormant whip up for the strike that would restrain this enigma of a lifeform getting hot and heavy with the bloodhound for the evening.
It was too bad for Julius the strange beast was quite wily. It scrambled over Alucard and took shelter behind the tree trunk just in time for the Vampyre Killer to lash the poor Dhampyre for the second time that day.
“Motherfucker!” Alucard cried out, jumping to his feet.
You better believe Yoko was too busy laughing hysterically to see which direction the crafty creature took off, but could they really blame her? Sure, she'd heard Alucard curse before, but it was always an after the fact dry single expletive affair, and never so petulant. She could practically the hear the unspoken 'Come on, man!' that should have followed his outburst.
“Sorry, buddy.” Julius offered, attention already returned to the scampering shade fleeing the scene.
“Whatever that is, I want it.” Alucard growled possessively, morphing back into a wolf to continue the chase.
So of course here they all were running again, though she thankfully no longer had to worry about breaking her face on any tree roots. The opening in the misty distance seemed to be a lake, which was strange... She wasn't an expert of Japanese geography by any stretch but Yoko was pretty sure there wasn't supposed to be a lake in the Murder-Suicide Forest. Either way, that didn't stop the trio from making a beeline to the water's edge, Alucard shifting back into a man and stripping his attire along the final stretch, never slowing his pace even to tug free his boots. When the inky tree monster dove into the depths of the lake, the half naked, barefoot Dhampyre followed right after. Yoko on the other hand skid along the mud to a stop, as she hadn't signed up for swimming tonight. Julius paced along the perimeter of the smallish body of water, and they waited... for something. Anything. The surface of the lake was still, save the few ripples from the gentle lapping at the round islets dotted along it's surface.
Just as she began to wonder if Dhampyre's needed to breathe oxygen like normal people, their Moroi partner in crime surfaced, pulling himself up along the nearest islet only to crouch pensively, searching the waters. Even from a distance she could see how tense Alucard was. Frustration just radiated off of him.
“Did it surface?” He called out to nobody specific.
“No. We were right behind you. It dived, you dived. But you are the only one who came back.” Julius replied.
“It has to come up for air.” Alucard insisted before he begun to think out loud. “I kept swimming deeper and deeper but I never hit the bottom. I lost sight of it as well..." Turning his attention back the black depths, his timbre lowered to a hiss. "Where did you go, you awful coquettish tease?”
“Maybe it's a filled sinkhole?” Yoko wondered out loud as well, because she would have died if she tackled that slut-shaming comment right then. Who knew coquette was even in Alucard's vocabulary? “And maybe the creature is aquatic?”
“Did you see how it moved along the trees? It had wings. You don't have wings and live in the water. Nature is bizarre but there are evolved traits for a reason.” The Dhampyre scoffed.
“Well if you know so much, you tell me where it is or why it doesn't seem to need to breathe.” Last time she speculated out loud, jeeze. Part of her wanted to argue flying fish or fins really being just sea wings, but she didn't know enough about the subject of fish to bullshit an argument in her favour just to spite him. She also hadn't gotten the best look at it. Only the stupid Dhampyre had.
“Can you freeze the lake, Yoko? Just the surface.” Julius inquired.
She did just that is a huff. At least being useful made her feel better. After her contribution she squat down to watch the ice for any signs of something trying to break through. It seemed like they waited a long time, three pairs of eyes scanning the smooth surface in the dwindling moonlight. If that humanoid species needed air, it would have had to of surfaced by now. Which meant it either was aquatic, and Alucard was being pigheaded, or there was some other trick to the lake. Maybe Alucard hadn't swam down far enough. Maybe there was a drainage system from the lake... Although she didn't hear any rivers or creeks in the distance. Growing bored she made a more solid glacial walkway to the islet Alucard inhabited and joined him.
Mad or not, upon closer inspection of the topless, soaking wet, cut up and bruised muscular figure before her, she whistled appreciatively. “I'm still pissed, but damn if wet and naked isn't a good look for you.”
“Will you focus, girl?” Julius sighed from the shore.
“I am very focused. On those abs. And those guns. And his long pretty hair.” She called back. “I'd be more focused if I knew why are we harassing an animal that never attacked us and we didn't see in the cave where a coven of witches committed murder.”
“I have lived a very long life and seen a great deal in that time, but this is not one of those things.” Alucard explained. “The leader of that coven had a power about her that was great enough to affect me. I desired her. As a demon of Desire myself, a human, witch or not, should not have been able to affect me like that. That powerful magnetism she possessed... I felt it again tonight. Only much stronger.”
“The creature.” Julius surmised, joining them via her ice bridge. “Perhaps it is her familiar.”
“Likely. She may be using it to draw the women she had with her under her sway.”
“What did it look like under that ink stuff?” Yoko asked. “You saw it's face.”
“It looked like-” The Dhampyre almost answered before clamping his mouth shut. Averting his gaze, he chewed his bottom lip while collecting his thoughts. When he finally answered, it was a response well guarded and purposely unhelpful. “It was very beautiful.” And just when she written off getting anything of worth out of Alucard, he added cryptically. “The second most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“So how long to we wait for this beautiful creature? Excuse me, the second-most beautiful creature you have ever seen?” Her question came out more sigh than inquiry. Picking on nonviolent creatures never sat well with her, whether they were familiars to dangerous witches or not. “The sun is nearly up and the ice is nearly melted. If it hasn't surfaced yet, then it must have escaped somehow?”
“I saw it dive in.” Alucard insisted.
“Well light bent around it's form. It was practically invisible. Maybe you just thought it dived in but it actually took off. It had wings and you insist it is not aquatic.” She spat throwing up her hands.
“I am well aware of what I saw.” The Dhampyre bit back, on the defence.
“I am well aware you are about to start bickering like children.” Julius interceded just in the nick of time. She really had been about to blow off some steam. “We will wait for a little more daylight. Maybe you could see something down there is you dove back in with the sunlight. If not we could always go back to the car for that indestructible flashlight.”
“Well... I do not believe we will have to do that.” The Dhampyre replied thoughtfully, eyes glued to the melting surface.
“And what random speculation of yours lead to that conclusion?” Yoko said, eyes rolling.
Alucard gave her such a flat look, she just barely restrained the urge to stick her tongue out at him. “It is not a random speculation, small sorceress.” His condescending tone just oozed right out as he straightened up and made a show of hopping back into the lake bed... only he didn't sink.
“You secretly are Dhampyre Jesus now?”
“Yoko. Use you eyes, not your snark.” Julius instructed, and she begrudgingly obliged.
It appeared Alucard was standing in ankle deep water. Ankle deep water that a two hundred and forty pound Goliath had taken a dive into. Okay, she conceded. A flashlight wasn't going to help them out of this dilemma. Completely perplexed she put out some spiritual feelers in hopes that a probe of the lake -pond, it was legit a pond now- and the shore would clue her in on how this particular magick had been performed. Because obviously there was some arcane power at work. Lakes did not lose Alucard sized depths in an hour. Frustratingly she couldn't get a sense of anything, so she wandered out into the water scanning the general area. Julius and Alucard took off in separate directions back into the thickening woods around them, each returning in their own time with a shake of the head. The mystery of the pond-lake had all three hunters stumped.
“You don't think the tree monster did this?” She wondered out loud. “Light bent around it. Do you think it made an illusion of a deeper body of water?”
“I dove in, though.” Alucard replied without any of the earlier defensiveness. “You can make an illusion of anything with the proper talents, but I am still soaking wet. Even if I was tricked into thinking I dove into a lake, and that would take not only a subterfuge of my eyes but also my other bodily senses, my backside would be more or less dry if I landed in this puddle. I felt no magick from that creature. As for his camouflage, it did appear to be organic in nature.”
“His, you say?” Yoko let out another whistle. “A sexy little male tree monster got you hot and bothered.”
“I haven't the slightest idea what you are referring to.”
So now she was back to laughing hysterically. “Are you going to try and tell me you weren't out-sexied by that creature? Y'know, the one who climbed on top of you and you felt up while he planted a big wet one on you? Cause it sure as hell looked like you were a hundred percent into him while you were each trying to suck each other's molars out. What are we going to tell sleeping beauty back in the hospital?” With a time out for another snort, she prodded with marginally more seriousness. “So it seems like pale, long-haired and male is your type? I just wanna know so I can point out dreamboats to you while we're out.”
The Dhampyre was not amused, but really when ever was he? Still he surprisingly humoured her, responding. “You forgot fit and brunette.” To which she squealed with delight, and he pointedly ignored. “What do you think Julius? This place requires further investigation but I haven't a clue where to begin, nor in what fashion.”
“Then we are in the same boat... The scent you followed from the cave, was it that creature's or the witch?”
“It was both. But one just faded, the other led to that extraordinary animal. It was difficult to track. Had the scent of that woman not been mingled with it from the start I would have missed it entirely. It's scent is like the wind, just a faint mix of earth and sky.”
“Well I suppose that means it definitely was the clue we were hoping find. Do you think now that you have tracked it, you could do so again?”
“I think so. I would need to pick up it's trail first, and I could not smell it anywhere in the vicinity.” Giving Yoko a short half-smile he continued. “I will fly among the treetops and check. In case it really did fly away instead of diving into the water.” With that he shifted into a bat to do just so.
“Do you ever feel like we use and abuse him?” Yoko asked once he was out of earshot.
“Of course, and he knows it. But it's all for a good cause, so he doesn't mind too much.” The gruff old hunter looked to the sky and cursed under his breath. “I hope he finds something before those clouds unload on us.”
The clouds in question, swollen blackened things that they were, loomed above. While they waited for Alucard to search the skies, she took the time to flip through her grimoire for any and all auditory, sensory illusion spells and glamours, as well as transmutations, but there was nothing she had logged that could combine all the trickery that would have been needed to fool three hunters, two of them mages. As for transmutations, she also had no records of entire lake beds being turned to soil. Defeated, all that was left to occupy time was to watch Julius also flip through his tablet loaded with the Belmont Encyclopedia of Really Bad Dudes, searching for some entry that could give them insight on to what they were dealing with. She asked if as a member of the legendary Belmont Clan he should have had that picturebook memorized, but he just muttered under his breath about being old and, oh yeah, having his memories stolen from him in the Great War of Ninety-Nine.
“Ah-hah!” He exclaimed, but the satisfaction was quickly replaced with a scowl. “Well now I have two mysteries to solve.”
“Ah-hah what, exactly?” She asked, hovering on her tip-toes to get a better look at the screen. On the screen was displayed a scanned image from the Belmont Bestiary. An pen and ink crosshatched drawing of a creature more shadow than flesh, with a wide wingspan and long whip-like tail. In the sketch the creatures black shadowy legs began to take the leafy pattern of the reference bush also sketched. The artist, some Belmont of old, tried very clearly to show that shadows could change, and that the creature could distort any light that touched the black membrane, and hide in plain sight. “Well that is very interesting... Why are you so upset?”
“Because...” Julius swiped through the next few pages, spelling it out for her. The scanned page images were not blank. Something very clearly had once been written on these handful of pages at some point in the past, but for whatever reason they had been scrubbed and destroyed of the information. Even the initial sketch looked as if someone had started to redact it via scraping some ink away, but hadn't had the heart to finish the job.
“Who would do such a thing? Who even would have access to do that?”
“A Belmont.” Julius answered. “But don't ask me why. The family Bestiary is a sacred text. To destroy the knowledge some of our forefathers died to gather is utterly reprehensible.”
“When was that entry written?” She asked, genuinely curious. The date at the bottom of the sketch was too worn out from age and partial deliberate destruction to make out from her angle.
“Mmm... Fourteen fifty-two. That doesn't mean it was destroyed then, however.”
Once more she could only throw up her hands in defeat. At least they weren't crazy. Creatures like the one they had encountered really had been existing for centuries. Sparse raindrops had the pair scrambling to tuck their valuables away safely just in time before the swollen clouds released their bounties. The downpour was sudden and severe, drenching them in seconds. On the cusp of the storm was Alucard, wisely keeping his bat form to fly them out on the path he'd led them down from the relatively dry treetops. Drenched yet still hot and humid, she dove into the backseat of the car, uncaring if either older man saw her strip free of her itchy clothing and dress in the spare yoga ones she always kept in Alucard's trunk. Julius, the lucky bastard, had kept dry enough with his coat. Through one folded down seat she was passed a towel, and Genya's suit jacket and shoes, then the trunk slammed shut and a mostly dressed Genya climbed into the driver's seat.
“Did you just take off your pants out in the open like that?” She asked just to be a brat.
“I took it all off.” Genya replied. “You must have been preoccupied.”
“Really?”
“Really. I saw the whole thing.” The old hunter jokingly played a long. Then in a faux mortified tone he stressed. “The whole thing.”
“Give me some numbers, Jules. It's for research.”
From the drivers seat Alucard choked, Julius letting out a gruff laugh at his expense. “Why are you so concerned, my friend? You should be very proud of-”
“It does the job.” Alucard cut in, genuinely mortified. “How about we talk about our course of action instead. The rain must make you all crazy.”
“We are trying to talk about your dingdong, Al. It's very important for... Reasons.”
“All right, all right.” Julius soothed, bringing the focus back to the matter of a missing witch and her rare and talented familiar. But as he stretched his arms up to curl around the headrest, he held them palms facing at a telling distance apart, giving her the size roughly. He left one hand waiting for her forthcoming high-five. “I think we should wait for this rainy patch of weather to pass and head back. In meantime, let's all hit whatever books we can think of and try to find any info we can on species that can do the things that familiar did. He is our key to the witch, I believe.” The old hunter paused to study the Glamour Genya for a few minutes before he sighed. “Our very first step should be to go back to the hospital. If that boy... If Trevor was held hostage by her, he must know something. Maybe he's the only source we need.”
While she couldn't see Alucard, she could hear the apprehension in his voice when he whispered. “Am I allowed to see him?” For someone she was supposed to be mad it, he sure kept making her feel sorry for him.
“Yes, Alucard.” Julius assured him. “I've been giving it some thought, how best to approach him. He must have had a terrifying ordeal and he may be frightened to wake up in a strange place. And if he is who you think he is, he will not understand what any of those tubes and machinery attached to him are. Whoever he is, he has suffered greatly, and some consideration for that should be kept in mind.”
“What would you have me do, Julius?”
“To start? Just calm him. Assure him he is safe and nobody at that hospital is there to hurt him. And then..? I think it best if Yoko and I observe and you just talk to him. See if you are convinced after speaking to him that he is the man you believe. You'll have two extra pairs of eyes and ears, and if there is some magickal shenanigans to this doppelganger, Yoko will suss it out.”
“Just... speak to him.”
“I think that is best. Treat him like he is your long lost friend and see what he has to say about that.”
“He'll probably punch me again.” Alucard muttered, but she could see his head nod in agreement. “I can do this.” It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than making a statement.
Towelling her hair to a semblance of dry, she partook in her favourite car pastime and napped the whole way to the hospital. The jostle of Julius closing the car door woke her. Passing Genya his shoes and coat, she climbed out of the backseat and trotted into the building to avoid the misty-rain still falling on the city. The best part about these hospital visits was the free air conditioning. The yammering school girls crushing on cute Asian doctors was probably a close second. Knowing the way by heart at this point, she didn't wait for the men to catch up, climbing into the lift and punching in the right floor. She hummed a tune she couldn't place as the numbers lit up one by one, Eager to step out into the spa-like atmosphere of the private wing.
Beyond the doors of the lift was not a serene place of recovery. Before the reception desk in a snowy white hospital gown stained red down one side, brandishing what looked to be a hypodermic needle straight out of a horror movie, was the boy from the cave. While every beep and page and hum of hospital equipment spooked him, he held his ground fending off a team of orderlies, who really had only the best intentions. It was just that the boy couldn't understand them. The brunette swayed, unsteady on his feet, but his weakness did not keep him from judo-flipping the next man who manged to lay hands on him.
When he turned back to face the rest of the men he wore an eerily grim expression. This was a young man preparing to get violent. Dangerously violent. Now perfectly poised to strike, the boy stilled, waiting for the next fool to make their last mistake.
All around him was pandemonium.
Chapter 13: The Long Hard Road to Fetra
Chapter Text
November 1476 ~ Dora Woods, South of the East Bridge
In the quiet of the early morning, a hasty decision had been made to leave the doomed village of Yomi, whether or not their fevered hunter had sufficiently recovered. In the relative safety of sunlight, a gathering of villagers set upon their chosen dwelling, demanding to know who they were and why their children were so petrified they could not sleep. It was the feverish Hunter who went out to greet them, digging out from his coat pocket the missive from the Church that had tasked him with defeating the Evil in the Castle. Alucard hovered by the window, anxious thoughts of Trevor or Sypha or himself being dragged out to be burned at the stake plaguing him to the core.
The Hunter seemed rather calm about the whole matter, taking the time to turn his back to the gathered grimy masses and secure the door. Moments later Alucard realized why. The murmur through the crowd was full of self doubt, as the destitute villagers had seen the wild and elaborate cross emblazoned upon the back of the Hunter's expensively crafted garment. The hand-stitched masterpiece of leather-works spoke of wealth and import. No common rube or cut-throat would be in possession of such a garment. When Trevor turned, he greeted them in a benign but passive manner, like a man far above their station doing the duty of a Lord to see to his vassals needs. This too was an ingenious ploy to change their foregone conclusions, given how many of them had farm tools on hand. Once indecision was naked on every dirty face, he presented the religious letter, even letting them go so far as to touch it and pass it around, in spite of the fact that most of these people likely couldn't read.
As the letter made it's rounds, the Hunter began to explain who he was and why he had come this way. As he spoke, Alucard noticed something about the way he moved, a slow sway of head, body, weight shift, hip then heel. Much too subtle for mere humans to pick up overtly, but subconsciously it drew their rapt attention to him, making them much more agreeable to the words coming out of his mouth. It was a truly useful skill, worthy of a demon like himself. He wondered if all Belmonts had this way with their fellow humans, or if it was just a supernatural talent of Trevor alone. In the end, some villagers wept for the salvation they had prayed for, others shuffled off in fear of a man who hunt devils, and those uniquely perceptive children actually clung to his legs with excitement. They all did eventually dissipate and Trevor returned indoors.
The passive calm he had shown the gathering outside was replaced immediately with a look of urgency. “We need to leave.” The young man warned while packing away everything Sypha and Grant had left out over night.
“I thought that went rather well?” Alucard replied, but none the less helped to pack.
“I just bought us time. A smaller group of them will be back claiming I killed the man whom this letter belongs to and stole his identity. Then they will try to kill you or Sypha and I will have to kill them in defence, and then someone will have needlessly lost their father or uncle or brother.”
“You seem rather sure about this...” It was not the start of a debate, merely a sad observation about the state of mankind and their fears.
He left to rouse the Rogue and Mage, explaining simply that they were going to be torched out of the house if they didn't leave promptly, which was really all the information one needed to get moving. Before long the village and it's no longer welcoming plumes of smoke vanished behind the crest of a hill. At the very least the Sunken City's malevolent pull still seemed to leave them a more or less clear path to travel. It was unfortunate that Sypha, arguable the one who needed the most rest given the draining effects of her magickal abilities, had been short changed in that regard. As they walked through precious daylight in an attempt to put as much distance between themselves and the village of Yomi, the Dhampyre did grow concerned that she would be vulnerable if circumstance forced her to travel all day and battle all night.
So preoccupied with concern for her was he that he walked right into the Hunter who had stopped abruptly ahead of him. “Sorry.”
Trevor gave him a small warm smile that made his own lips twitch at the corners. “We're far enough away from the mob, so no need to worry about them. I will not let a rabble stake you, behead you, burn your corpse and bury your charred remains upside down. I promise.”
“Well I thank you for that.” He stammered, having never before been described how a Vampyre was dispatched. What brutal animals these humans could be. “Actually, I was concerned about your fever, and the lack of rest for your valuable medicine making Mage.”
“That's very sweet of you.” Sypha whispered, just to his right.
“So am I.” Trevor agreed, no doubt about Sypha alone. “I'd like to hear your thoughts regarding which path we take. Bearing in mind we are very short on supplies and not in the best shape.”
“Lay it out.” Grant encouraged. “We'll all decide what's best together.”
The young Hunter nodded and fished a map out of yet another coat pocket, causing the Dhampyre to start wondering why he'd ever needed to carry a bag in the first place. “North of us is the East Bridge over a marsh and cuts through the mountain gorge. This would ideally save us a lot of travel time, but of course we must consider that a cavern path is always blanketed in darkness and the path through the mountain is much closer to the vicinity of the Castle. Paradoxically, further North-East if we keep to our current path is the North Bridge. Also over a marsh, which has it's own problems with slimy demons, but the path is a long curve around the cliff side. In it's favour is more safety while travelling and that it will lead us through both a city and a large village, with hopefully a chance to restock.”
“What are your own thoughts, Trevor Belmont?” The Mage inquired, large blue eyes always studying.
“We are in short supply of many things. The longer we travel the wilderness the more worn down we become. There is a benefit to cutting off weeks of travel. But in the state we are in, could we make it through the deep belly of a cavern in Dracula's backyard? If we take the long route, we may not perish from demons, but starvation or dehydration or exposure to the elements. What if that city and the village are in a similar state as Yomi? There is a risk we will find nothing to keep us going.”
“What do you want to do?” Grant asked point blank. “I couldn't begin to tell you what is best. There is a very real possibility all these tiny towns on that map have been wiped away.”
“I... I will make it work. Whatever the decision. I want nothing more than to be done with this and return to my children. But I will not force any of you to go on a suicide march.”
“Well,” Sypha hedged. “My grandmother used to say less haste and more speed. Do you understand, Trevor Belmont?”
“That's a good one.” The Hunter replied thoughtfully.
Suddenly three pairs of eyes were on him, and the Dhampyre remembered that he was supposed to be their guide to the Castle. They all had niche roles to play and this one was all his. Reaching out for the map, he laid it open across a nearby rock, free of snow due to the filtered sunlight. “Through the Wicked Ditch shortcut are many more cyclops, those creatures that turned you into stone, Sypha. There are smaller bone dragons, and phantom pikemen. The only light would be reflective and ambient so you will need torches and fuel. It will indeed save you weeks given how slow travel generally is because of the nighthoards, yet I cannot stress the danger enough. In the dark my kind grow in strength, and sunlight has never touched this place. This safer, longer curve will lead us first to Fetra, a city on the outskirts of these lands. If I recall correctly, Fetra trades heavily with Moldavia, which my Father's curse may yet not have reached. If it stands, it will have something we can put to use. The other village East of Camilla's Cemetery no longer exists. I know because...” With a heavy sigh he pressed on. “I was the one who razed it. All that stands there is a massive church I could not destroy because I am a Dhampyre and can't enter them. It would be a suitable place of shelter for you three however if this is the path you take.” He looked to the Hunter and asked if he had a pen and inkwell, accepting the items with a short tight smile. Tapping the pen to shake off excess ink, he flattened the crinkled map and began to mark the forgotten roads passed the ransacked town of Aljiba – another crime of his – south of Yuba Lake, and skirting the shoreline of Castle Dracula. “There is a town here called Lupu. In Lupu you will be able to take all the time you need to rest and recover before the final push to victory.”
“It is in the shadow of the Castle.” Trevor stated in an incredulous tone. “How could a place the Count could spit on from his balcony be safe?”
It was a good question, and one that could not be answered with a simple asking of trust. With yet another heavy sigh, Alucard divulged his family secrets. “Lupu is the birthplace of my mother. When the people of Wallachia burned her, the townspeople of Lupu took her body and gave her a proper burial in their local cemetery. For their basic humanity, my Father spared them... in a way.”
“The place is cursed.” Sypha surmised. “Why else would it be scrubbed from the maps?”
“It is not truly cursed. More trapped in the temporal aura of the Castle. Time does not move there. The old never die and the young never grow up. The people trapped in that sphere of influence are the same villagers that gave my mother a place of rest.”
“Would we not also be trapped in time or whatever if we went there?” Grant asked.
“Under normal circumstances you would not be able to enter it, just as the people cannot escape their 'safety' no matter how much they desire it... I can do so, and I can bring you with me. The centuries of held time have made the villagers of Lupu quite... odd... But it is rather peaceful once you look passed the oddities. I grew up in Lupu, and my family home still stands, also trapped in time. It should be just as I left it.”
“How do they even live? What are they eating?” Trevor's face drew into a frown. “Could they have babies?”
“It's a wide area. It includes the nearest forest and farmlands that are unspoiled. They live however people hundreds of years ago in these parts lived. There are fish and wild game that can enter and leave, but they tend to stick around. I suppose animals know where they are safest.” He tried to explain. “As for that other thing, the stop on times prevents conception.” When blank eyes looked up at him, he clarified more simply. “No new babies.”
“And you say that's not cursed.” Grant raised a brow.
“I said it's not truly cursed. Only a little.”
“Just a dash of curse. For flavour.” Trevor added with a wry laugh. “All right... I think I know which way I am leaning.”
“Long way.” The three humans decided in unison.
*****
November 1476 ~ Dora Woods, West of the North Bridge
Behind an endless wall of grey clouds hid the morning sun, frigid wind and snow falling in spurts over the exhausted party of four. As feared, the respite from the nighthoards came to an abrupt end the further East they travelled, slowing their pace back to the frustrating tooth and nail advance. In an effort to make up some of the travel time they'd lose taking this roundabout path, they had initially pressed on through the day with the knowledge that they would have no rest until that time tomorrow. Reaching Fetra was the current urgent goal, and the state of the place when they found it would make or break their expedition. Every day since that group decision to walk this path, Alucard came to realize, was much like the first he'd ventured with them. A slow trudge. Always fighting, or creeping by devils and demons well past the point of exhaustion. Days upon days of this, stress-fuelled yet still somehow monotonous, they struggled. Each dawn the humans collapsed in their blankets and bedrolls, barely enough energy between the three of them to make a fire and put too little food into too empty bellies. Within this harrowing monotony grew a routine of sorts, not without it's own pleasure.
The first watch, early morning to afternoon, defaulted to Trevor as his restless sleep early in their journey had made it impossible for the others to rest alongside him. As the Dhampyre had no real need to close his eyes, meditative rest could be done anywhere he could sit quietly, these early morning hours became their time. Hunter and Dhampyre sharing blankets and cloak, coiled warmly beneath thick fabric and around each other. Sometime they just sat in comfortable silence, but mostly they spoke softly to each other about anything other than their hard journey ahead. Alucard would keep a mental list throughout the night of things he would ask about in the following morning, learning little trivia about Trevor Belmont with every seemingly inane question.
The Hunter had a fondness for plants, but flowers in particular, his favourite being the fleur-de-lis of his country. The colours silver and gold were his favourite, because of the moon and sun. The reason he trimmed his fingernails daily was because they grew unusually fast and his mother had always scolded him to keep them short, or wear gloves. He did both. His favourite meals were what was considered comfort food, Gigot d'Agneau Pleureur, Tartiflette, and Choucroute Garnie he gave as examples, though Alucard was at a complete loss regarding whatever those strange sounds were supposed to mean. He did further elaborate that the only dish he had ever turned his nose at was Lamprey à la Bordelaise, yet that too was just a pile of indecipherable vowels and syllables. When reading for pleasure, he favoured what he called chansons de geste, explaining that they were stories and poems of war and conquest or other heroics, the Song of Roland being the one he'd read through more times than any other. He knew how to darn clothing because the toes of his hose frequently tore open, to the point that he re-worked new ones to make them more durable before even bothering to put them on. When asked about his unified lower garment, similar to Alucard's trousers and quite different from the popular chauses and garter worn by men his age, he revealed his wife had a great love for fashion as many Parisian women do, and he'd asked her to fashion him something that wouldn't snag on every branch and beast.
As a boy, between the numerous lessons from Sonia Belmont, he'd worked as a Page for the Church, running errands for a Priest who'd later become the Deacon he wished he had punched before leaving France. He had also worked as a scribe translating Latin and German texts into French, language and grammar being two topics Sonia had him focus heavily upon. This was of course also in between being an artist's model, as it turned out not only for a memorial statue, but for several paintings and figure studies. When Alucard dug into that a little deeper, mentioning how figure studies often were of the human body in it's natural state, the young man did admit that he had been nude, insisting they were all tasteful sketches. One early summer night, he'd even roped his wife into committing a most dubious crime. Sneaking out of a ballroom dance held at the grand Château de Versailles and into the royal gardens in search of the King's prized strawberries, the pair of newlyweds stole the royal fruit, eluding guards and slipping back into the dance with none the wiser. Another time in winter, he'd put on a great show of confessing his sins to a visiting Italian Bishop, long enough for little Estée to slip his Roman wine between the folds of her skirt and make off with it, the two thieves breaking it open to toast the anniversary of their marriage. The theft in both these cases, Trevor reasoned, was justified as the victims were exorbitantly wealthy. Completely worth risking a beheading.
What a full life this young man had lived in such a short span of time. The tales both amused and filled the Dhampyre with envy, as he had no such stories to share.
*****
November 1476 ~ Dora Woods, South of Fetra
Too far in the distance to make it to even if they travelled all day, the City of Fetra stood as a beacon of hope. It's great city gates appeared to be intact, smokestacks rising from hundreds of dwellings beyond the iron bars. The sight alone of normality soothed the humans in his company, as they were decidedly more playful and energetic while setting up camp, just inside the cusp of the woods so as not to be too exposed, as well as to use fallen boughs to construct shelter from the falling snow. As with the area surrounding the Sunken City, the outskirts of Fetra seemed largely devoid of lesser demons and any monsters of note. Just the usual shambling dead everyone from the wisest old woman to the smallest babe had become accustomed to seeing in the dead of night. Most of the danger they had faced after crossing the North Bridge came in the form of rabid animals and overgrown insects. Which seemed to rankle the Hunter more than plowing through the army of winged guards and the children of Medusa to get to this side of the bridge.
While Grant and Sypha joked and laughed, setting up their camp in record time and celebrating their fortunate windfall by putting together a feast out of their remaining food stores, Trevor paced the perimeter of the camp, giving every rabbit-sized spider minding their business in the surrounding woods a hard glare, going so far as to kill the ones he deemed too close for comfort. For a man who seemed to be willing to walk by demons who weren't causing any harm, the ruthless destruction of such nocturnal non-threatening creatures seemed a little out of character. After dispatching quite a few more of the helpless spiders the Hunter finally returned to the campfire, eager and appreciative to partake in the spoils his companions had put together.
Alucard let them enjoy their meal and each others company, following Trevor's path of destruction out of curiosity. The young man easily had killed two or three dozen of these poor arachnids, and with such impudence. From out a corpse pile he picked out a dried moulting of one of the spiders, a perfect yet harmless replica, and carried it back to camp. When he arrived the three were drinking Sypha's special blend of tea, so he took the distraction as an opportunity to place the spider moult across Trevor's back and shoulder. Tea flew every which way as the Hunter yelped, vaulting the fire, Sypha, and her bags. He turned to see Alucard holding the hollow moult, scowling as he unconsciously backed away further still.
The Mage erupted with her sinister sounding cackle, Grant following close behind with his deep belly laugh, and as for Alucard, the Dhampyre grinned from ear to ear, beyond amused at the Hunter's expense.
“Don't tell me you are afraid of spiders, Trevor Belmont.” Sypha continued to cackle. “Of all the things we've come across.”
“I am not afraid of anything.” The Hunter snapped, still backing away from the empty shell. “They are simply disgusting.”
Gazing above to the treeline, Alucard stepped closer, beckoning. “Then you best come back to the fire.”
Trevor downright glared at him, still back-stepping “Stay away from me with that vile thing.”
“Really, Trevor, come back here.” He warned, tossing the moult far into the forest. “I was just teasing you, but I promise I will cease. You should come back here.”
“So you can shove another one of those creepy bugs you probably have stuffed behind your cloak in my face?”
“Trevor, get away from there.” He tried to warn again, but it was too late. The Hunter's retreat had backed him into a wall of young trees, the tremble running up the supple wood shaking free four of the overgrown spiders, three of which landed on the Hunter. “I tried to tell you.” The Dhampyre sighed.
Sypha and Grant fell over themselves and nearly into their fire laughing at the stricken face Trevor made, even more so at the squeak escaping his lips through the hands he'd clamped over his mouth, and most of all at the frantic dance to brush them all off as quickly as possible. Feeling a little sorry for the young man, as he really had meant to tease him, not shove a genuine phobia under his nose, he stepped in to assist removing the wily arachnids. With the last of them plucked free, the Hunter stood stock still, completely mortified.
“I apologize, I didn't know you were afraid of them.” He whispered low enough it was for the Hunter's ears only. “I assumed you just did not care for them. Are you okay?”
The Hunter spared him an accusatory glance, eyes hard and wide, before reaching out to yank free his cloak. Wrapping the oversized garment around his body and pulling up the hood, the Hunter returned to the safety of the fire, only to be besieged by countless taunts from his companions. On his part, the Hunter took the jibes and remarks in stride, though whether that was because he was too mortified by what had just happened to emote was up for debate. Perhaps their teasing and taunts about a legitimate fear really did cut deep? In all fairness, the Belmont was a man who faced off against werewolves, Moroi dragons and Vampyres. Clearly, the proof of his valour was in the hundreds, if not thousands of demon corpses at his feet. Shouldn't the poor boy be allowed this one irrational fear? Before he could call a cease-fire, the Rogue and Mage seemed to understand on their own the joking had gone a touch too far, and while they didn't apologize, they changed the subject to the lighter one of what they'd hope there was to find in Fetra. Of this they dreamed up pastries and custards, roasted chickens, thicker stockings, woollen sweaters, and a hot bath. Elated at what tomorrow could bring, the two turned in, leaving the Hunter to his vigil.
After some time he took a seat on the overturned log beside the silent Hunter, still hidden beneath the excess fabric of his cloak. “I am going to touch you, and I am not a spider.” Even with his warning the boy still flinched when he began to run his hand up and down the length of his spine, hoping to sooth unsteady nerves. “I must ask your forgiveness. If I had known, I swear I would not have put you through that.”
“Don't worry about it. It's just a silly little thing.” The Hunter replied, sounding worn down.
A comfortable silence passed, and all around them tranquility prevailed. Fire crackled. Beautiful virgin snow lightly coated the evergreens. Through the foliage a safe haven awaited them. One more night, and they would be there. Feeling slightly brazen in part due to contentment, Alucard slid right up alongside the Hunter, lifting the smaller man's legs over his own, bracing him with an arm curled around his back. In the Castle was a grand painting of two lovers in such a position, the woman looking up from the lap of the man who held her, her eyes smouldering with desire. He had always loved that painting. The cowl of his cloak prevented him from seeing if there was any desire in Trevor's eyes, which there certainly would not be given what had just happened, but considering how worn out Trevor's voice had been it would be prudent to check over his self-appointed charge. He pulled back the hood to peer at a paler than usual Belmont, fatigue tugging at every part of his body. He checked for fever, expecting to find one, but not expecting to find the Hunter so much warmer to the touch than a few days ago, which had been so much warmer than the days before that. This was not boding well.
Reaching for the makeshift bedroll of stolen Yomi blankets, he swaddled the young hunter and settled them down more comfortably, backs supported by the log. One hand stroking the boy's hair, he rocked him gently. “If Fetra is truly a living and breathing city, I'd both like and think it's wise of you to take a few days and get over this completely before we move on.”
“You don't catch a cold, a cold catches you.” The Hunter murmured, parroting the saying in such an automatic fashion, it likely had been some mantra of Sonia's.
“The cold has caught you, Trevor Belmont.” He whispered into chestnut locks of hair. “Close your eyes. I will keep watch... You only need to hang on for one more night.”
Softly murmuring in French, the young Hunter climbed and curled up entirely within the confines of his arms, in search of something he believed Alucard could give him. Whether it was a sense of safety, comfort, or connection, he could not say, but he was pleased to be of service. Hunter now soothed to sleep, the Dhampyre sat in peaceful silence, allowing all three humans to rest until it was time to go.
*****
November 1476 ~ The plains bordering Fetra
“A skeleton spider!?” Sypha kept asking him repeatedly, as if he would change his answer eventually if she kept at it long enough.
From under the towering calcified creature the Dhampyre let out an exasperated noise. “How many more times must you ask before you believe me? For the last time now, that it what this large bony construction attempting to skewer me is called.”
“Don't tell me you are afraid of spiders too.” The Rogue quipped, evading the Moroi monster's blade like appendages. “I can't seem to find a way to hurt it... Any thoughts over there, fearless leader?”
Offside standing uselessly paralyzed by arachnophobia, Grant's not so fearless leader had nothing to contribute. Truth be told, Alucard secretly preferred that the sickly Hunter not exert himself due to his rapidly diminishing condition, but he did wish the boy would throw them a bone, pun unintended. His father kept these pets of his in the catacombs well below the belly of the Castle, in places he had never been allowed to roam freely. Though he knew what they were in passing, he had no real knowledge of their construction and therefore weakness, but the Belmont Bestiary surely had an entry for this grotesque tower of bones. Just when things were starting to get a little desperate, their leader took off like a fire had been lit under him straight into the fray. Dive-rolling to avoid the Moroi spider's bladed feet, the Hunter leapt onto a bony knee joint, rotary cuff, and swung onto the spiny back, where he proceeded to lasso the spider's neck and ride it like a wild horse trying to buck it's owner. In the next moment it reared, an attempt to shake free the human it's deadly appendages could not bend to reach, Trevor swung around the backside of the beast to the ground and with the secured Vampyer Killer and that unnatural Belmont strength, brought the creature down into the driven snow. Calcified legs clawed wildly at the sky, the skeleton spider arching and twisting in an attempt to regain it's footing, with every arch the ivory ribcage separated, exposing a crimson core.
Alucard shared a quick look with Sypha before Hellfire and Witch-fire obliterated the obvious weak link. All that remained was charred.
“What took you?” Grant directed at the Hunter, who was in the middle of lowering himself to the ground.
“It's not really a spider if you think about it.” Trevor half-explained. “More of an eight-legged Moroi centaur.”
“And that you're okay with!?” Sypha erupted in disbelief.
“What does it matter what took him? It's dead now.” Alucard interjected, studying the pale Hunter. He was starting to look a little green, which was concerning. “Trevor, are you feeling all right?” He inquired, confident the Hunter would insist he was, but in how he did so would be just as telling as the truth. Somehow in these short weeks he had become a bit of a self-appointed Belmont expert, a realization that brought him a deep amount of pride and pleasure. Pride did come before the fall, so the saying went, and to his dismay the Hunter simply shook his head no. How bad off could Trevor be to just come out and say it? He reached the Hunter's side at the same time as Sypha, but did not interfere with her examination. “Can you stand?” He asked in a low voice, careful not to distract Sypha.
“...I am not well.” Trevor merely stated and toppled over like a marionette with cut strings, right into the Dhampyre's ready arms.
Through shirt, jacket, and padded armour vest, Alucard could feel the heat radiating off the unconscious boy's body. “That city better be worth the trip.” He growled.
The diminutive Mage looked towards the waiting city fretfully and nodded her agreement. “If that fever does not come down he may not make it. Were these peaceful times and he a well fed man, that would be another story, but at current there is just nothing left in him to fight this.”
“Are you all right to carry him?” Grant asked, and nodded to himself when Alucard said he could. “I'll run ahead and try to find an inn. By the time you reach the gates I'll meet you back there. Try to see if you can get him on his feet before you're too close to the city though. If there's one thing sure to start a witch hunt, it's a man coming into town with a sickness. The whole place will think we're trying to spread the plague.”
“That's just... typical.” Alucard sighed, hefted the Hunter, and started to march.
With Sypha's aide, he did manage to get Trevor back on his feet in time to walk through the city gates on his own. Grant hustled them so quickly through alleyways and side streets the Dhampyre barely got a sense of the Fetra's atmosphere. From what he saw, the markets were full, the smell of barn animals clung to many of the humans he brushed passed, and the scent of wood smoke and roasting meat filled the air. There were also a lot of people. Every which way he turned he had to side-step or excuse himself, fully aware that even with the cowl pulled up a great many eyes watched the dark robed man who was head and shoulders -and sternum even in some cases - above the average man. How many of those eyes belonged to uniquely perceptive children, he had to wonder. He did his best to keep his lips pressed firmly closed and eyes downward turned as he tailed the ailing Hunter, reaching out to steady him more times than he could count.
Arriving at the inn Grant had selected, the four entered into the dim light, Trevor and Alucard being forced to duck under the low door beam. The place was near sweltering from the blaze in twin fireplaces and the body heat of several local drunks. The plump, moon-faced proprietress manning the bar eyed them suspiciously, never losing sight of them even as she barked orders to the scullion maids and wenches under her. A woman like that no doubt had seen a great deal of people in her time and line of work, and knew three out of four of them were much too finely dressed to be in such an establishment as hers. Deciding to get to the bottom of the matter at once, the rotund innkeeper abandoned her post to either greet them or throw the lot of them into the street.
As with the rabble gathered in Yomi and in spite of the fever that brought him to Death's door, the young Hunter stepped out to greet the proprietress with all the grace and flourish of a young Lord, calling her attention solely upon him and him alone. He introduced himself primly, even bending to kiss her grubby swollen hand, every movement and toss of his head creating that slow sway Alucard had observed back in the dying village. Like a snake charmer, finally the recognition set in. The bloody Belmont was a human charmer, dazzling and mesmerizing the people around him. Or he was an incubus. Alucard could believe that too.
“Where are you from? You speak strange, lad.” The proprietress asked, but the suspicion in her tone had vanished.
“Why I have come all the way from France.” Trevor proclaimed. “A pleasure trip to see the world before it all goes to Hell as it seems to be.” To this the round woman chuckled, agreeing. “I've decided to visit this very inn because I heard you served a most excellent dish here. I can't recall what it was, though, can you believe that? I just remember is was highly praised.”
What did you know, a half hour later they were rented the largest room in the house with promise of hot baths for all, a scullion maid to double duty as their laundry maid, given directions and suggestions to the best shops in town, as well as the name Mrs. Dumitru to mention when purchasing. Four piping hot bowls of ciorbă rădăuțeană, tochitură moldovenească, and a side of salată de vinete would be prepared for them in the evening with the promise of alivenci for dessert. All this from a woman who had initially been about to give them the boot, and all thanks to the irresistible charms of a Frenchman. Now in a bit of a titter and quite amiable in an effort to please the young gregarious Lord, Mrs. Dumitru personally showed them to their room and begged they call on her if anything else was required. A maid was already on her way up with two pitchers of water and some washcloths.
After the waif of a maid excused herself, task complete, Sypha shut and latched the door with a dangerous air about her. “Trevor Belmont. Strip.”
Choking on the water he had been greedily downing, the Hunter sputtered. “Beg pardon?”
“You put on an excellent show, and thanks to in large part poor lighting, you got away with it. Now it is time to remove your clothing and get into that bed. We must bring that fever down or your chances of survival are very grim.”
“All of it?”
“Yes. All of it. Might as well do your laundry at the same time.”
“Are you just going to stand there and watch me undress?”
“I am going to undress you myself if you do not start listening to me. Strip.” The Mage ordered, spinning around to face the door and give the modest Hunter his semblance of privacy.
Alucard too averted his gaze until he heard the bed frame creak under the Hunter's weight, not wanting to take advantage of the situation. When he turned back, Sypha was already upon the poor boy, in her hands a damp cloth and a bowl of water her magick had formed pebbles of ice in. She allowed the shivering Hunter only a thin sheet for his modesty, folded down to his hips so as to better cool him. Trevor complained of freezing and was beside himself in disbelief when the Mage informed he was in quite the opposite state. He then complained about needing to get a great many things and replacements for their journey, pouting when Sypha vetoed any activities that weren't strictly bed rest. The only exception she considered, stressing it was under consideration and not a guarantee, was allowing him to come down to the main hall for dinner with them.
“There is so much I must restock and replace though.” Trevor whined. “Also it's a city. I want to explore it. I want to be around people who aren't dying in the streets for a change, and I don't even like people.”
“You are going to be here for a few days getting over this. There will be time to collect and purchase everything you think you'll need here. When the fever breaks, we will take some small walks to build up your strength, okay?”
“...Fine. Could I have my coat? Not to wear Sypha, quit glaring at me like that.” When the Mage made no move, he turned to the Dhampyre. “Please?”
Alucard was already bending to retrieve the garment the moment the Hunter laid eyes on him, ignoring the frown the Mage shot his way to do so. He was an incubus, that Trevor Belmont. He hovered by the bed with interest, watching the boy dig a thin ornate box slightly larger than a deck of cards from out a coat pocket that was clearly designed to fit the object perfectly. Slipping free a stylus that doubled as it's latch, the Hunter flipped open the box to reveal it was a compact waxboard. The boy feigned obliviousness to the Mage's impatient sighs as he scribbled away down the board, filling two and a half sides with cramped but clear handwriting. Finished, he tossed the waxboard in Alucard's direction, expecting the Dhampyre to catch it. He did. Within the protective box cover was a shopping list. Various dried foods, fresh hose, fresh undergarments if possible, a replacement rucksack, holy water, needle and thread, ink, parchment, a thick blanket, whetstone, various herbs 'for Sypha', rope, candles, flint, charcloth and the list just went on. There was even an instruction to look at any available maps for purchase and see if they were more detailed than the parties current one.
“Is there anything else, M'Lord?” Alucard asked incredulously.
Trevor quirked his head, thinking. “Almond wafers.” He replied after some time in all seriousness, and then, satisfied that some progress would be made in his absence, the Hunter obliged the Mage's insistence and lay back down to rest.
Grant read the laundry list he tossed his way with a wry chuckle, bowing himself out of their shared inn room. Alucard followed after, passing up on the opportunity for faux groveling. He'd gone this far in life having never been on bent knee before another, so he wasn't about to start now. The Rogue and he discussed how best to run through Trevor's impressive requests, deciding in the end to just split the wants and needs by like items. Dry foods, herbs and church-related goods went to Grant, for reasons that need not be stated about one particular errand, while the rest of the miscellaneous requests fell to him. Oddly he felt slightly excited at the chance to run through the shops, fear of children not withstanding, as he hadn't perused an open market since he was a young boy tailing his mother. The half of the list he was left with worked in his favour as he had a few like items he wished to purchase as well.
Bidding Grant the best of luck in the crowd, the Dhampyre pulled up his hood and merged into the flow of busy bodies. He grabbed two sturdy and well built leather packs first so as to have somewhere to contain all of Trevor's odds and ends. Ducking into a clothier's, he purchased a warm sweater, stockings and fresh undergarments that would fit the lithe Hunter, as well as took the time to instruct the tailor in modifying a warm set of cotton chauses into one unified garment the Hunter could wear beneath the linen trousers his wife had designed, for warmth. Promising to pay well if the garment could be modified by the time he returned from the rest of his errands, he left the man to his work and went onto the next task. Collecting the piddly little things like charcloth and thread turned out to be a bit of a nightmare, as he had to actually converse with strangers to find where he could procure them. Each small conversation a risk to his personal safety. Wisely, he had saved the best for last, though. What a great pleasure it was to step into a refined shop and smell the leather bound books and parchment. Artist's and scholarly tools strewn about for purchase, as well as fine vellum and bindings. He gathered the Hunter's items first, and then spent a long time thumbing through and constructing a compact artist's travelling kit. Mostly dry media, but also a beautiful sepia inkwell and brush, for a few sketches he already had in mind. Handing over a small collection of coins to a very happy shopkeeper, he sorted and packed his purchases, and set out on his last errand. He was going to find those almond wafers.
Locating those wafers were a monumental task, indeed. Victoriously he forked over far too much money for such a simple treat and a bonus cruller, returned to collect the now unified chauses and then made his way back to the inn. It was well into the evening when he ducked under that low entrance, the smell of rustic cooked dishes heavy in the main hall. Upstairs in their room her found all three humans, Sypha and Grant deep in conversation as they divvied up and packed dried foods. The Hunter still lay unconscious in bed, cool cloth on his brow and limbs strewn wildly about.
“I was beginning to think I should go out and look for you.” The Mage said, with relief in her voice. “Whatever took you so long, Alucard?”
Rather than answer the question, he latched the door behind him and knelt down at the human's side, presenting her with the freshly baked almond wafers, still warm in the waxed paper bag. Delightedly she took two, passing the other the Rogue, and declared it was worth the worry over his whereabouts. The faintly sweet aroma had enough clout to wake the Hunter, who nearly climbed out of the bed before he remembered Sypha had made him strip.
“I wasn't actually serious.” Trevor exclaimed, but none the less looked at the wax paper bag in a way Alucard wished the Hunter would look at him some day.
“Was he well behaved?” The Dhampyre inquired from the Mage, playful smile pulling at his lips.
“Surprisingly, yes.”
“Well, here is your treat then. Just one... We wouldn't want to spoil your appetite.” He placed the wafer in the eager Hunter's hand, and a second later it was gone.
“It seems like supper is nearly ready below. Did you want to head down?”
“I have no clothes. Sypha gave them to a slip of a girl under the pretense of washing them so that I wouldn't put them back on and wander off.” The Hunter sighed. “What she does not realize is that if I die from this fever with an empty stomach because of her, I will spend the rest of her natural life haunting her.” Now narrowing his eyes at the Mage, he threatened. “I will be a very disruptive ghost, Sypha. Night out on the town? No, there's my ghost. Want a peaceful moment to read by a river? Not going to happen. Belmont ghost. Fancy slipping in between your sheets with your next lover? Nuh-uh. Trevor Belmont's apparition will be there waiting for you.”
The other pair in the room fell over themselves laughing.
The Dhampyre also couldn't help but chuckle at the vindictiveness of the tirade. “I really don't think that will be required, as much as it sounds like you'd enjoy being a disembodied ghost.” Taking a seat alongside the bedridden Hunter, he handed the boy the rucksack filled with the bounties of the marketplace. Folded neatly on top was the fresh clothing. “I had these made for you to wear under your trousers for warmth since it is essentially winter, but they will do as leggings for now.” He also took this moment to pull out the finely knit sweater, a cloudy grey you could almost call silver trimmed in archaic gold symbols, and held it up against Trevor's body. It would fall just mid-thigh, skimming the shape of his physique quite complimentary. “I think it will fit nicely. And just like that, you are dressed for dinner. Happy?”
“You are always thinking of me.” The Hunter purred, surprisingly flirtatious in tone.
It took Alucard aback a little, as it was quite unexpected, but he composed himself in short fashion and purred right back. “Of course. How could I not?”
“Am I ever so glad I wandered into that cave of yours.” Still airy and salacious, Trevor leaned in. “But what if I grew used to depending upon you and you weren't there one day?”
The face of the Hunter was so close now, he only needed to tip his head and they would kiss. What would that even be like? He wondered, not caring who or if there was an audience. If this enchanting creature leaned in just a smidgen closer, Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș was going to learn how to kiss a man right here and now. In the meantime, he replied. “What fool would ever leave you, Trevor Belmont?”
“You think that way of me? Would you still even if I became wilful and a handful?”
“You are both those things already, my sweet.”
“And if I was deliberately disobedient?”
“Is that not your natural state of being? It would be foolish of me to expect you to do anything you hadn't already decided to do on your own accord.”
“Good.” Trevor mused, self satisfied, and leaned back against the headboard. In his hands was the wax paper bag of almond wafers, plucked straight form out of Alucard's lose grip unbeknownst to the Dhampyre. Taking a bite of his second wafer the Hunter let his head fall a little to the side, smiling up at him playfully. “Then you really won't mind if I have another one, will you?”
The bloody thief. “You are a brat.” He stated, but it was impossible to be mad at the coy boy. Still, for pride's sake he snatched the treat bag back with Dhampyric speed and tucked it away into his own pack. “Get dressed before I change my mind and you have to sup in a bed sheet.” Turning to the giggling mess that was Grant and Sypha he made them an offer that had them scrambling to the bar downstairs. “May I treat you each with some wine?” He took the clattering door in their wake as an empathetic 'yes'.
“Wine is their favourite word.” Trevor chuckled, and Alucard gave a sighing laugh of his own.
Closing the door once again to allow them their privacy, he returned to the bed side. Purposely fixing the Hunter in his sights, he placed a hand on either side of the headboard and leaned dangerously in, overshadowing the smaller man so vulnerably naked beneath only a thin sheet. In spite of the predatory stance, his voice came out gently, the fondness in full bloom for the Hunter openly apparent. “I am aware you were simply playing around, but I do mean what I said. I adore and accept you just as you are.”
“I... I know that.” Trevor exhaled audibly, and averted his gaze. “And I appreciate all of this, and all of what you have done for us up to this point. Just... Do not feel that you must dote on me. I am a grown man, if you recall. A man. One that was married and has children. If you recall.”
With a heavy sigh of his own, the Dhampyre settled back down upon the bed, hands still framing either side of Trevor's head. The boy seemed terribly caught up in the idea that his maleness was an issue, which he supposed the blame of which could be laid at the Church's feet. Was he not aware of all the great men in history who had lead their armies and lands to glory with their male lovers at their side? Was he not aware of how new this concept of who was right to lay with and who was wrong was? Studying the troubled face before him, he traded one glamour for another, rapidly changing his features. From a distinguished older man, a stout matron, a voluptuous beauty, a gangling youthful boy on the cusp of manhood, a slip of a girl like the maid from earlier, a barrel-chested worksman, a prim refined lady, red-heads, brunettes, blondes, raven-haired and everything in between. He watched Trevor's eyes widen as he tried to keep up with the shifting appearances. “If my male exterior is what is so repulsive about my interest in you, I can remove that from the equation. I can be anything you desire, Trevor. You need only ask it of me. So, who do you want me to be?”
“Yourself!” The Hunter shouted firmly, startling himself with how loud and forceful the outburst had been. In a much quieter voice he restated. “Yourself. I want you to be yourself.”
“Myself?” The outburst had startled him enough that he was now wearing the true face in question. Self consciously he toyed with his white locks, frown painted on his real face. “But there is something wrong with being myself. You will not even entertain the idea if I am myself.”
“Adrian--”
“Because I am male? Because you think I am a man? But I am not a man. Not like you.”
“Adrian, that's not--”
“Or is it precisely because I am not a man? A Vampyre sired me, and I am a demon you would hunt down if the circumstances were different?” He was quivering, he realized, and he folded his arms tightly around his middle to keep from clutching at the Hunter wantonly. Why couldn't he explain himself in a way the Hunter could understand? If he could, then perhaps Trevor could just tell him what he was supposed to do with all these emotions.
“It is not fair of you to throw this all on me. I am just as confused as you about what the hell is going on between us. I am a widower whose wife and third baby is barely in the ground with two small children waiting for me to come home to them. I should be mourning my wife's passing and yet I've spent weeks being fascinated by you. There have been days where I sat in your embrace telling myself it was for warmth and Estée never crossed my mind.” The Hunter now also quivering, shut down momentarily to keep the tears at bay. “I am committing adultery just by the nature of my wandering thoughts.”
“If you had eaten the poisoned fruit and been the one to pass, would you have demanded she stay married to your corpse, or would you have wished her to find happiness elsewhere?”
“Of course I would want her to be happy. I would still wish she would at least mourn my passing properly, and not fall into the arms of another so soon after. Show a little respect for the dead.”
“You don't have to fall into my arms if you don't want to. I will not force you. Just help me understand why you are my every passing thought. Everything you do brings me some form of joy, and everything you say is the greatest thing I have ever heard. I know keenly what Vampyric desire is, but what I have for you is so much more than that. Am I in love with you? The burning need to touch you, is it solely because I want to mate with you, or something more? And if it is human love and desire, and you do not feel this same fire for me, how do I reconcile that? How do I stop loving you, Trevor Belmont, if you will never love me back?”
“I am nineteen years old!”
Silence reigned supreme in the wake of that outburst. Dhampyre and human alike wiped at confused tears, but could find nothing worth saying to fill the air. They could not even meet each others eyes, so they looked anywhere but. Alucard heard Trevor climb free from the bed and dressed methodically, but he did not want or even think about taking an appreciative glance. Deep in his chest was a heavy weight, a stone in his throat. Perhaps this was how it had to be..? He was a fool to think anything would come from this. Had he not told himself just that very thing the first day he laid eyes on Trevor Belmont? So why was he so upset? Cruelly, the Hunter was standing over him now, taking his hands and holding them between them. He should pull away, he knew, and start putting that distance he initially had tried to maintain back between them. Yet he knew if the Hunter was going to drag this anguish out, he would stay as long as the boy wanted to toy with emotions.
“I am nineteen, Adrian.” He repeated, voice soft and face vulnerable. “I don't know how to stop loving someone. I have never even been in love. I don't know how you can change how you feel about me because I have never felt what you are feeling. I can't say I will never love you, but I can't say I could either. Do you think in nineteen years deep in study and training and being married off I have had time to contemplate such far-fetched situations like whether I could love a demon, male or otherwise, if I got to know one and liked them? Hell, I don't even know if I could love a human being, male or otherwise. Right now, it has nothing to do with you or your desires for me. I am confused about what I am feeling, and until I know what I want, I can't help you with your dilemma.”
“I am sorry for my selfishness. This is just all new to me.” He murmured and tried to pull his hands free, but Trevor held fast.
“It is new for me too.” The Hunter admitted. “Can I tell you what I do know?” He patiently waited for Alucard to nod. “I find you fascinating, and I love to sit and talk with you. I like how I do not worry about closing my eyes when you are close by, because I know that you will protect me as I would you. I like to listen to all your random tidbits about the world, and I like the way you laugh. That Hellfire of yours leaves me awestruck every time it comes out of your fingertips, just as when I see you change your form on a whim. I feel warmth inside my body when you do sweet things for me, like asking me how I am fairing, or running all around town to find me almond wafers of all things. I like that you care about me, because I care what happens to you as well. I like your face... Your real one. And I liked how you fed upon me... And how you touched me afterwards.” The Hunter's cheeks flushed, but he never looked away. “I think I may have liked that last part a bit too much.”
“...I understand. I am over two hundred years old, and you are a nineteen year old young man. It really is selfish and silly of me to think someone so young could have all the answers to these deep questions, or my dilemma.”
“Look, Adrian... We are still friends, right?” Trevor asked earnestly. “You weren't just being nice to me because you desired me... You know... In that way?”
“I find you infinitely fascinating as well, you know that. You are the first friend I have ever made, Trevor. So of course we are still friends.”
“Then let's just be as we are, and maybe we will figure it out together?”
“Just be as we are..? What if I speak too amorously towards you, or can't help but reach out and caress you when we sit and speak in the early morning?”
“You don't need my permission to speak your mind. If I do not want you to touch me, I will ask you to stop. If you are not touching me, and I want you to, I will ask if you would.”
Within the wounded confines of his heart, something skipped a hopeful beat. Wearing the ghost of a humorous grin he asked. “Have you ever thought about asking such a thing?”
To his delight, Trevor smiled back. “I have. More than once, even. Will I do so again though, who can say?”
“Please do not let this be a cruel form of kindness.” The Dhampyre wished out loud, trepidation thick, but knowing full well he was in agreement with this approach.
Trevor gave him an empathetic look, likely as he felt the same anxiousness, but he smiled through the free fall of tempestuous emotions and stepped back to allow Alucard to climb to his feet, and to show off the garments hand picked by the Dhampyre for his final approval. “How does it look?” He inquired, gesturing to silver and gold fitted sweater and black leggings with rather intricate stichwork the poor lighting of the clothier's shop had hidden.
“You look ornate and highborn, yet somehow also incredibly... domestic.” He replied, after some thought. “You look like Trevor Belmont. Whoever picked those out for you must know you very well.”
“You think?” The Hunter gave himself another once over and shrugged, agreeing because he could not find anything about the statement to disagree with. “Come. Our friends are waiting for their promised wine. And it has been a long time since I was another's ornate dinner accessory.”
“My accessory?”
“Yes.” Trevor insisted, fingering the gold work on his cloak. “We are matching. I've been to quite a few parties where if you matched dress, you had to dance.”
“Are you going to dance with me?” He hedged, unsure how he would react if the Hunter agreed.
“No, I have a fever and Sypha would tackle me to the ground if I did anything energetic.”
Well, that made sense. The Mage was probably downstairs right this moment ready to charge via some maternal sixth sense.
“But I will sit beside you.”
It was a sweet offer, and one he was grateful for, given the torrent of troubles and emotions they had just begun to work through. To sit near the Hunter and nothing more right now would sooth his aching heart.
“...If it is really as dim down there as I recall it being, I will hold your hand. Under the table, of course.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
Chapter 14: Romance in Respite
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 1476 ~ The City of Fetra, Stoker's Inn
Bellies full and heavy with ample wine and good food, the humans returned upstairs to their shared room, collapsing each into the nest of warm blankets supplied with the three beds. Sypha took the servants bunk as the privacy screen between maid and master erected in the room provided the sole woman in their midst a chance to attend to her womanly needs. Whatever that entailed. The remaining human men stripped and changed into sleep shirts, Trevor into the virginal white on white embroidered one Alucard had picked out for him, toasted a fine night with the dregs of their dinner wine, and turned in. While three rarely pampered travellers partook in their much deserved rest, Alucard took watch by the window, creaking open the shutters to let the minimal amount of draft in, and watched the gathering navy coloured clouds in the dark skies swell until they could hold no more, releasing a sprinkling of snow down upon the city. Overnight the sprinkle became a bluster, and by early morning light over two feet of powdery snow blanketed every outdoor surface, and still the white flakes fell from the sky. If they had intended to leave this morning, the endless storm would have cancelled that, so it was just as well Trevor Belmont needed to rest. As they were staying at a tavern and inn, being snowed in was the best possible outcome. There was nothing and nowhere for the restless Hunter to see or go. He would have to rest.
Trevor was really going to hate that.
One had to wonder... Should he feel so much amusement at the mere prospect of a childish tantrum from the person whose hand he could still feel in his own? Probably not, but it wasn't like he was trying to be malicious about it. The Hunter just needed to rest, and now he had no excuse with which to refuse. Watching the ever falling snow, he pondered what quiet, restive activities they could do to keep boredom away that wouldn't require the Hunter to leave the confines of his bed. By the time the sunrise warmed the room in it's brilliance, he had settled on an activity they had started but never finished due to the endless sea of nighthoards, and of course, his own tendency to get distracted easily.
The Hunter stirred as dappled sunlight danced across his visage, but he did not wake. Alucard reapplied the moist cool rag to his brow and then simply sat by his side, alternating between watching his sleeping face and the smokestacks rising over the city with equal tranquility and interest. It felt strange to look at Trevor and not be plagued by his all consuming lustful fantasies, but what had replaced that blind urgent desire was not unpleasant either. In his chest he could feel the beat of thousands of little wings. Beetles maybe? Moths? Whatever they were, they seemed attracted to the fire in his gut, warming his body with a tingling heat from toes to fingertips. Still existed his desire to fall upon the Hunter and feed off him, as he was a Dhampyre, and still existed his want to slide against Hunter's lithe body and generate more of that exquisite friction as they had done back in Yomi. Yet he also now thought it would be just as satisfying to lay in Trevor's lap and have the human comb through his hair, or hold his hand, or just sit comfortably at his side watching this burgeoning sunrise. The Dhampyre had figured out already how to touch Trevor to make him whimper and moan, but now he wanted to do things like lightly scrape the underside of the Hunter's foot to see if he was ticklish, and rub the tension from his shoulders.
All in due time if it was meant to be. As it was, it seemed that without the apprehension of expectancy added into the mix, the Hunter seemed more relaxed, willing to explore this new avenue alongside him. It was all he could ask, and as he also did not expect that hand holding today would guarantee heavy petting the next day, he too felt a strange freeing sense of freedom, making him more appreciative and affectionate without becoming so overwhelmingly fixated. Without acting so damnably predatory.
From out the corner of his eye he could see Grant was awake, but the Rogue took advantage of a paid roof over his head and bed below, rolling back over to doze through these early hours. Let the man sleep in. He's earned it.
“Have you been up all night?” Whispered the awakening Hunter.
Instinctively he laid a hand against Trevor's chest to keep him from sitting up, distracting from the confining gesture by re-moistening the cloth and wiping over the Hunter's exposed flesh. “It is in my nature to be awake at this hour, how could you not know that as a Vampyre hunter?” He whispered back, teasing, before adding with a warm smile. “Your fever is coming down. Get enough rest today and I am certain it will break. Impressive turn around for a man who was on Death's door yesterday, wouldn't you agree?”
Trevor rolled his eyes but the Dhampyre was not fooled. It was quite clear the Hunter was relieved to be given some good news for a change. Other than with his wandering eyes, the Hunter did not reply. What he did do was roll to the wall-side of his mattress and invite the Dhampyre with a small wave to lay down, which was something he was very agreeable towards. He lay on his side, head propped up by an arm and studied the sleepy face below, Trevor's features slack as the boy in turn watched the snowfall outside. “This used to be my favourite time of year. The last autumn leaves would fall and the first snow would follow. By this point I'd have an entire deer drawn and quartered, skinned rabbits and fowl, all smoked or salted, dried, you name it, and my family could wait out the winter worry-free.”
“What is there to worry over here? There's a larder in the basement and a tavern keeper prepared to throw her brassier your way at a moments notice.”
“She makes excellent food. I might take her for a wife.”
“Just based on that, hmm?”
“I am a simple man. I don't need much.”
“Simple tastes or not, you may need to look into getting some spectacles. I do not believe your eyesight is up to par.” For a moment he imaged the ruddy-faced woman leaning in to kiss the young Hunter and shivered. It was an unpleasant thought, although more for an uncomfortable feeling that settled in his gut he could not quite pin down than because of the obvious repulsive visual it elicited.
“Beauty is more than what is laid bare, Alucard.”
“I am well aware of that, thank you. However, you can not deny that appreciating the outward beauty of what you are beholding can and should be also important, allowing for different tastes of course.” Yellow eyes narrowed and lips curled. “I have noticed over my lifetime that the people extolling the virtues of inner beauty most often are the people with whom the majority would considered comely. Feigning surprise that others are ogling them while the ugly always seem to know they are ugly or strange. I must wonder if you are earnest, or simply adhering to the Church you grew up under? Pride is a great sin, after all. Do you look in the mirror every morning and tell yourself if you had pointed teeth or crooked ears, the world would treat you the same?”
“What a heavy conversation this has become.” The Belmont sighed. “If I am to be put on trial... I'll have you know I simply am who I am. I don't look in the mirror and tell myself anything, because I don't look in mirrors, period.”
This fetching creature?
“I don't believe that for a second.”
“Then don't, but it's true. What reason have I to lie about such a silly aversion? I was a small boy when my mother first let me read the Bestiary she safeguarded. The first page I opened it to was of a demon that lurked in reflective surfaces, but could only step into our world through mirrors. I found the concept so terrifying I didn't sleep soundly for weeks, and broke all the mirrors in my chambers, which I promise vexed my aunt to no end. I haven't purposely stared into one since that night.”
Almost ready to call horseshit again, he paused for thought. “Paranoia.” The name came back to him, along with a lighthearted memory. “I know this type of demon. We had a few that lurked in the mirrors of the dance hall. I used to play with them, darting from mirror to mirror to try and trick them into running into each other, as it was ever so much fun when they collided and their horns got locked together” It had been a long time since he'd recalled the games of his youth. “You really have no idea what you look like?”
“Your childhood games growing up were very much different from my own... But yes, Paranoia. That is what it was called in the Bestiary. A red monster in the mirrors... And of course I have an idea. My hair is brown and my skin is fair. My eyes are blue or grey, a light colour whatever one it is, and I am taller than everyone I knew up until the point in my life where I discovered you. No one has yet to run screaming from me without my first giving them a very good reason to, so I must look fairly ordinary and decent.”
You have got to be kidding me.
“Your hair is not just a bland boring brown, it is the colour of roasted chestnuts ripe for eating. Your eyes are the blue-grey of cold steel, and you are tall only comparatively to the people of these lands and I suppose, given your insistence on the matter, the people of France. You are very average in height.” He corrected automatically, having admired the features he was describing for so long now. “Anyway, how do you properly groom? How would you know your hair is sticking out at odd angles or dirt was smudged on your face?”
“I am notoriously fastidious, but in the event I should happened to miss a spot, someone would say something? How would you know these things without being told, unless... Are you walking around with a pocket mirror or something?”
“Well...”
“Ah, so you are, and just now you were trying to paint me the vain one out of the pair of us. What good does a mirror serve you; I thought Vampyres had no reflection anyway?”
“Half. How many times must I stress that I am only half? Besides, that is a common misconception that you should correct if it's been written down in your mother's book. Mirrors show the truth before them, and that is that. What a mirror can do is dispel a glamour, as the magick would not work on a soulless object. Your eyes would deceive you, but if the Vampyre was standing before a mirror, the spell wouldn't work. Your eyes would see the truth in the reflection, which would shatter the illusion before you. The human mind cannot perceive beings from beyond the Veil as they can occupy the same space as a being from this realm, but that handicap serves them in this case. Your human mind cannot perceive a glamour and reality at the same time, so reality wins out.”
“Are these the kinds of conversations you two have on your morning watch?” Sypha, barefoot and dishevelled wondered out loud. She stretched languidly, the hem of her sleepshirt raising high enough to show off her slender but shapely legs, though she did not seem to realize the pair of them were staring. “I can see why you have grown so close so fast. You are cut from the same bloody cloth.”
“S-Sypha,” Trevor stammered, averting his gaze. “It is inappropriate for a young lady to be so exposed in the company of men.”
Knowing full well what was coming, Alucard scrambled to sit up by the headboard, giving the minuscule mage full access to the poor, stupid Hunter and his well-meaning but still terribly wrong opinion.
“Inappropriate, you say?” Punctuating each word with a stab or her bony finger, Sypha jumped on top of the startled Hunter and wrestled him into submission. “Who spent all yesterday and days upon days before that taking care of you? I have seen your naked ass more times than your own nursemaid, Trevor Belmont. I am a woman in a sleepshirt your flapping gums woke up, and you have the nerve to tell me I am the one being inappropriate? How about you mind where you look if my bare legs are too much for you, silly boy! Silly boy that I spent all day taking care of. I should have let the fever have you!”
“Nothing about you bothers me, I swear. It's just how I was raised!” The Hunter tried to excuse, fending off the forthcoming pillow assault. When Sypha had tired herself out swinging goose feathers around, she collapsed on the other side of Trevor, opposite Alucard, and cried a little. “Can't you just say you are happy I am all right? Why must you always get so violent when you are relieved?” Trevor asked earnestly, perplexed.
“I would assume it is because your poor health and reckless actions stress her. Perhaps you should try to be less stressful to care for, Trevor.” The Dhampyre suggested, innocently. “And look in a mirror for a change. Your hair is a mess.”
“See, this is why I don't have to.”
From out the other corner of the room came a great, long, heavy groan. “I swear to God and the heavens above, a man can't have decent hangover with you children horsing around even at the asscrack of dawn.” The Rogue groaned again and without any whit or care for any of them or what they might see, started to pull on his ragged clothes in no great hurry. “I am going to get something to eat, and maybe some hair of the dog that bit me, assorted children and Vampyre child. Half Vampyre child.” And with that the older man staggered from the room, grumbling the whole way.
Sypha and Trevor sat up and watched the door clatter shut behind their friend, and sighed. After another moment when the Hunter fully realized neither the Mage or the Dhampyre were going to leave his bed, he sighed again. Alucard exchanged a sidelong look with his sudden co-conspirator, and together they attacked the bird's nest that had once been the long majestic mane of one Trevor Christopher Belmont. The Hunter didn't even bother to fight them, resigning himself to their collective whims.
“My late wife used to treat me like a life-sized doll too.” He divulged, but didn't sound too upset over the matter. “There was a popular fashion in Paris before I left over these crespine and hennin headdresses. French women are crazy about them and seem to compete over who can construct the most elaborate and tallest headdress, with feathers and dried flowers, or fabric sewn flowers, dried fruits, honestly anything exotic, colourful, and eye-catching. While I was out on hunts I would purposely swing by known nesting grounds to collect these harpy feathers from a flock of rare ones near the countryside. Their plumes were golden with these rich charcoal stripes, and very beautiful. Estée loved them and her friend's envied the rare feathers she could decorate her hennin with, while I had the satisfaction of knowing all these milquetoast girls were fawning over harpy feathers.” The Hunter's shoulders shook with faint laughter. “Of course she had to build her masterpiece headdress up from scratch, so take a guess who has worn every style of women's headwear in Paris?”
“Are you trying to say you would like for us to build you a French woman's fancy hat?” Sypha teased with a laugh.
“No... Just that I am still surprised how such little things like someone fixing the tangles in my hair instantly bring my thoughts back to the people in my life that have passed, that's all. However just now I had a thought... that one day they may not. But I cannot decide which is more tragic.”
“You are certainly in a contemplative mood this morning...” The Mage murmured, all jovial energy sucked out of her. “We will be here for a while, Trevor Belmont. At least a few days for the snow to abate and for your strength to build. If there ever was a time along this journey to for you to mourn and make peace with the pain you have recently been cruelly dealt... this is that time. Heal your body as well as your heart while you can. For your late wife and that unborn child, and the two boys who await your return.”
Alucard and Sypha left the subdued Hunter to his thoughts, dressing and joining Grant for something to break their fast. Down in the warm main hall of Stoker's Inn, they spent the stormy day playing cards and dice, betting the evenings purchase of drinks in low-stake wagers, leaving the Hunter his privacy to do the one thing he needed to do more than getting rest and food.
Grieve.
*****
Pallid ambient light filtering through the wooden shutters promised a new day of blustering stormy weather, yet another perfect excuse to batten down the hatches and recoup their strength. From his perch against the footboard, he watched a still melancholic Hunter stare unfocused at the faint dance of shadow and light across the ceiling, bundled in blankets and bed sheets more for the sense of security than against the cold. He'd never dressed, only having left the confines of their rented room for another of those promised baths he so coveted. The humans, much more capable of understanding the nuances of their moods and emotions than a Dhampyre, gave the boy a wide berth, and asked nothing of him save the simplest inquiries such as if he was hungry or thirsty. Alucard followed their example to the best of his abilities, but it troubled him to see what he had come to view as an unstoppable force in Trevor Belmont... Cease. He wished the tears could all come out at once and be done with, for then the Hunter would never be troubled again by the cruelty life had forced upon such a sweet young man. It troubled him so much, he could not help but hover nearby, always watching the silent boy from out the corner of his eye in order to gauge how forlorn he looked.
It was impossible to expect the bereaved to overcome their grief in a day, the grim legacy of vengeance at his father's feet stood as the greatest testament to that fact, yet some undefinable change that wasn't apparently visible had definitely taken place. For when he reached out to straighten the wakening boy's mess of chestnut locks, the bittersweet smile he gave as thanks was a touch more on the sweet side. There were no debates about virtue this frigid morn, haughty Mage tantrums, or drunken Rogue groans either, so he closed his eyes and meditated, breathing deep the mingling scents of his three human companions. When he roused from the refreshing mental exercise, it was in part due to the cacophony of friendly banter and changing clothes, and part due to Trevor giving him a slight shake.
“Will you join us for breakfast?”
How could he refuse the invitation? Mrs. Dumitru was overjoyed to serve her favourite French Lordling, pampering the party by serving several added extras such as herbed butter and spiced apple tea to warm them. Trevor played on her affection almost to the point of cruelty, or so he thought, but perhaps the older woman merely delighted in feeling youthful once again? He was a poor judge of such things. As they shared a meal, Dhampyre covertly distributing his serving equally amongst his friends, they watched the snow build up on the windowsill and the fur-bundled pedestrians braving the storm on their way to work or to complete errands. The Hunter seemed disappointed but resigned to the fact that he would not be exploring Fetra yet again. More so when Grant announced he too would brave the snow on a quest to find himself a thick coat, as well as some supplies to construct what he called snow-shoes, explaining that they were used in remote parts of Central Asia. As to what a snow-shoe entailed, he left that up to speculation, pleased to be able to share later when he presented them with the finished product. At the last minute, Sypha too decided upon tagging along so as to purchase some things only a medicine making Mage could find use for. This left Alucard alone to mind the Hunter, making sure he did not wander off or exert himself as he was still recovering.
It didn't take Trevor long to grow bored of a second day being forcibly bedridden. In short order he had darned and modified his new stockings, reorganized the pack Alucard had purchased for him – taking time to marvel that tucked inside the thick blanket was a small pillow – while distributing odds and ends to those numerous coat pockets, bound fresh parchment into the Belmont Bestiary for future use, and polished the leather of his boots and long coat with a bit of lantern oil. It was when he went from pacing the small room restlessly, to balancing on his hands, and finally attempting to break his highest jump-kick record that the Dhampyre finally intervened.
“You are supposed to be convalescing.”
“I feel fine. Great even.” The Hunter shot back, annoyed.
“You feel great because you have felt like a carriage rolled over you for so long. You are not great, however. Not yet.”
“I can't sit in that bed all day again with nothing to do. When I sit, I think. Lately, my thoughts are not thoughts I wish to deal with... You understand, don't you?” The Hunter gave the bed in question a dark look, shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts he'd just mentioned.
Alucard gave the boy a small smile and nodded. “I do understand such nagging unpleasant thoughts...” He admitted. “But you really must gain your strength, not expend it. What if we could do something you would enjoy but you could stay in one place to do it?”
“Like what?”
The Dhampyre gave the room a quick once over, locating exactly what he was searching for. Bed-tray in hand, he gathered his artist's kit, Trevor's Bestiary, the Belmont's writing implements, bid the boy to get back into bed and once he was, laid out all the things Trevor would need to complete an entry in his family's scared tome. Taking his own travel kit of artistic tools in hand, he returned to his place at the footboard of the bed, long legs strewn beside Trevor's. Opening his freshly bound sketchbook and starting to roughly draft his composition, he supplied the curious Hunter with his suggestion of a good quiet activity. “How about we complete your entry on Dhampyres?”
The sudden bright grin that flashed across the Hunter's face warmed him to the core. “That's a fantastic idea.” Trevor readily agreed. “Since we are alone, when I sketch you, can it be your real face?”
Simply out of cautious habit, he hesitated, but relented once he could see how pleased the Hunter would be if he agreed. Truth be told, the more he thought about it, his visage captured in that book would be another kind of immortality. It was rather flattering, actually, and knowing it was the human he was so fond of who would enter him into the record book, made the whole affair all the more perversely pleasurable. Perhaps he truly was the vain one out of the two of them. Leaning back, he started to shade basic light patterns of his work, bringing weight with choice thickened lines.
“Hmm... I guess to start, what is a Dhampyre, really? How would you classify yourself? A man, or a demon? Are some of you more Vampyric while some of you are practically human?”
Well, the Hunter was certainly off to a good start. “These are good questions.” He admitted. “Vampyres have some similar traits across the species, but their powers vary widely, just as the talents of humans vary from person to person. A Dhampyre will take after the one who sired or birthed them, so our strength and powers are dependant entirely upon the talents of Vampyre who gave us life. Like all children, you can have several offspring from the same parents but not all the children will be identical. So in a way, the answer as to if some Dhampyre's are more human than others, is yes. Are there some that were practically human in all but name? Yes, as well. But demonkind know their own, and a weak demon is more attractive to hunt and kill than a village full of humans. Unfortunately, that survival of the fittest drive instilled the majority of my kind makes us terribly cannibalistic at times. Not every demon, but certainly a fair share.”
“How about you? You said earlier you were a stronger Dhampyre on account of Dracula being your father.”
“That is the truth. I have killed a few weaker Vampyres in the past who hunted too close to my mother's village. I have slain werewolves, harpies, gorgons, orcs, trolls, succubi, alraunes... Many of my brethren have fallen before me because they were there and they were weak, and I used to be a very different kind of demon than the one I am today.”
The Hunter pursed his lips, pen scratching away in his Bestiary. “Chalk it up to all the neck-twisting and face melting I've seen you partake in, but... Is it wrong that as much as I can see you are not a rabid animal today, I can still imagine you being one and razing villages?”
“Not at all. I was once a monster, Trevor. I still am... Just less so.”
“...Where would a Dhampyre typically be found?” The Hunter asked, to change the subject from his grim crimes of the past. “The basic habitat for one of your kind?”
For that question he had to think a bit. “Well... We are not a desirable product, from human or Vampyre viewpoint. We feed on one half of our heritage, but are too weak and risky for the other half to bother with. Most Dhampyres are accidents. Offspring of an encounter that got a little amorous but the human made it out with their lives. I believe I heard rumour that when feeding during the act of mating, the taste is enhanced. If that is true, it would be the most probable explanation for how my kind first came to be. So I suppose the answer to that question is that the most likely place to find a Dhampyre is an urban area. Which given how young Dhampyre cannot control their hunger, would explain why there are so few of us alive in the world. We are killed for being visible monsters, locked away, or run out of towns and become feral. But outside we are weak and vulnerable to stronger demons. It truly is a pitifully cruel and short life for most Dhampyres.”
“Sounds that way.” The Hunter sighed and finished his paragraph. “I imagine you procreate as Vampyres do?”
“I imagine so too?” He said with a laugh. “I have never tried. My father never explained the process in detail for me and my mother was burned before I was curious enough to ask. I've only seen animals, succubi and humans in the act for reference.”
“That's really nothing to be ashamed about. Every little boy and girl I know was told to wait for that one true love, and then marry them. Or at least the part about not ever having done the act. I am not sure I can say the same for spying on others making love. Succubi or not.” The Hunter looked up from his page and tilted his head. “You can make others like you, right? If I drank your blood, would I be Vampyre or would I be something less?”
“Under normal circumstances, you'd be little more than a thrall. Vampyric in nature, but let's say if I've half the strength of my father, you'd have half but more likely far less the strength of me. But the strength of the victim also has some play as to the control I would have over my thrall. I imagine that if you, specifically, were the one to drink my blood, I'd have a near equal in terms of Vampyrism. I cannot control you now, and I do not believe that would change if I changed you.”
“If Adrian has half the strength of his father and he can do all those crazy...” Trevor wondered out loud, growing concerned. “Half the strength?”
Alucard was quick to shut down that train of thought. “I was just generalizing. I am a product of both my father and mother. You must remember that my father did not turn me, he sired me. And my mother could not be controlled by Dracula, just as yours could not. Lisa had her own strengths she bequeathed to me. I am not his thrall, I am of his blood... Do not start to think your task impossible, Trevor. Dracula is powerful, but he is not invincible. Why else do you think he keeps to his Castle and the sphere of influence it casts?” Waiting patiently for the Hunter to finish his next block of text, he broke out his ink and brush and with some water from the pitcher got to work with some starting washes. “We can defeat my father, Trevor.”
The Hunter kept his eyes on his handwriting, nodding solemnly and replying. “We don't have a choice, really... How do you mature? You were born similar to a regular a baby, I assume. Did you grow to be a man in the same time as I did, or was it slower? And when exactly do you stop looking like you are aging? Is it different for every Dhampyre or Vampyre?”
“You are correct again, I was a babe once upon a time. My mother gave birth to me and I grew like a normal child until I looked like this. My father looks older, because when he seized the stones from your ancestor Leon Belmont he was a man just shy of forty. If you are turned, you stay as you are, man, woman or child. Vampyres or Dhampyres born will grow and stay as I am. Grown, but youthful. I am as of now, and until I am killed or destroyed, in my prime. In fact, the older a Vampyre grows, the more powerful their specific talents become, and the less blood they need to keep their hunger in check. This is of course for a true Vampyre, and not a thrall.”
“What if a thrall creates a thrall?”
“Pitifully weak Vampyre... Little more than a bloodthirsty wraith. Creatures such as those used to be quite numerous, but they are easily overwhelmed and killed by humans because they cannot control their hunger, and will attack with no forethought as to how they will survive the feeding. Honestly, they are little more than a snack for greater or even lesser demons outside of towns and cities.”
“I must ask, Dracula was not born a Vampyre, he became one through magick of some sort, no? How is he not similar to a thrall? Why is he so powerful?”
“Ahh.” Alucard grinned. “That is another great question. The stones come from a time before history, and very little is understood about them other than that one affects time and space, which my father and the Vampyre it was taken from use to keep the surrounding area around the Castle in eternal night. The Ebony Stone was forged through alchemy specifically to fit Walter's purpose, as endless darkness offered him full access to his powers at all time. The other stone is the anchor for the Castle. Truly it's key. When Leon Belmont defeated Walter Bernhard, his soul and his command of the Castle was absorbed into that Crimson Stone. Walter was a true Vampyre. He was ancient, and I've oft heard he was one of the first of our kind. He had preyed upon the people of these lands since before Rome was an empire. I often wonder if Walter and the Castle were more than Master and Chaos entity, and that perhaps the Castle was in part an extension of Walter. However he came to possess it, his essence and control over the Castle was passed to my father four hundred year ago, and it changed him. He sort of assumed Walter Bernhard's mantle and gained his power. It was a ritual whispered into his ears and helped executed by his closest confidant, Death himself.”
“Why would the Grim Reaper wish to replace an ancient all powerful Vampyre with one of equal power but less experience?”
“Simple. Death wants to reap. From how my father tells it, Walter was far too distracted with his fancies to create the kind of chaos and disorder that feeds war. He had become so sure of his invincibility because of the Ebony Stone's protection that he grew bored of his throne. Instead of cursing the people and lands with the seeds of war and famine, or driving fear into their hearts to fuel civil unrest, he played games with humans that struck his fancy, and tended to his favourite pets. Death, my father's most loyal servant, is not... quite my father's servant. It is a mutual and beneficial partnership as Walter was no longer a fitting partner. From what I heard.”
Trevor ruminated over that exchange for a few silent minutes, frowning as he penned some notes into the very back of his book, likely the key points of another entry he would complete later. “Let's back up the horse a bit. We went from Dhampyres to Dracula, and I mean to add to that entry in due time. What did you eat when you were a baby? Did your mother feed you her blood?”
“Would you believe just plain old mother's milk?” Trevor made a surprised noise, so apparently the thought never crossed his mind. “Well, that's what it was. Until I got my first fang around my first birthday and started to nip her. Then she stopped. After that my father would take me out on hunts once I could toddle after him and showed me how to catch weak prey. Small animals in their burrows at first, then foraging small game, onto coyotes and foxes, wolves, bears and then finally people. I still say it's harder to kill a bear than a man, but that was the succession of my hunts. Once I was a little older he would use his Force of Will to lure young men and women barely old enough to be considered those titles into remote areas for me to practice exerting my own. It is, after all, the safest way to feed, but it takes an incredible amount of focus and control and in spite of the seductive mythos surrounding my kind, not every Vampyre has it in them. Most do not. Putting a suggestion into someone's head that is a thought they may have had on their on is a simple enough trick most Vampyres can pull off. If a man is advancing upon you but you can smell his fear... it is easy to convince him with a word that he really wants to flee in the opposite direction. But to convince a terrified young lady that she wants to walk into your arms and be fed upon? That is something else entirely.”
It occurred to Alucard in the drawn out silence where Trevor was focused on his notes that he was being incredibly candid about the whole discussion. Admitting how ruthlessly he'd killed humans Trevor's age and under, because he was a demon first and foremost, no matter how he appeared to the Hunter. Deep in his gut he felt some apprehensive churning, and he wondered if he was perhaps testing Trevor's tolerance for this half of himself. Up until this point he had tried to be as human as possible, but the fact remained that he was not just a product of human conception.
“I see... So you had a Vampyre mentor because your father loved you and wanted to make sure you could fend for yourself. Would you say he taught you everything you need to know about being a Vampyre?” Alucard nodded yes, and Trevor continued. “Forgive the unpleasantness of this next line of questioning. What if your father had raped your mother and after feeding on her she survived. Out came baby Adrian and your mother being a good woman keeps and nurses you until you start to bite her. Then she realizes you are like the man who attacked her and leaves you in the woods. What then?”
“I am a one year old infant. I die. Unless someone finds and takes me in.”
“All right, let's say she tried to hide your fangs and succeeds for a decade give or take. But you are run out of town. How have you dealt with that bloodthirst in all this time, and how do you think a Dhampyre with no Vampyre to teach him fares, provided there are no cannibalistic demons to prey upon you?”
“Well, if she let me feed upon her she could have hid me that long, provided she could come up with a way to feed me without letting me drain her life completely. Dhampyre young are insatiable and have no control of our own. If she was killed or I was chased out into the woods, I'd probably hang around the outskirts of town. As a child living in the city I would know where my former friends run off to hide and play. Hunger too great, I would kill and feed upon them until I ran out of former friends or their parents locked them up at all hours. There are Vampyric instincts in my possession that my father did not teach me. I have always just known by the look of dwellings if I would find easy prey inside. I know that if I am injured, I have an urge to burrow under the ground and heal. I was never taught this, I just know I will recover more swiftly with black earth blanketing my body. I believe without a proper mentor and a low level of danger from greater or lesser demons in the area, a Dhampyre who is careful will have enough base instinct to figure out the basics. If they live long enough, they may develop a suitable routine for survival.”
“That is why you stated earlier that an urban area would generally be where to find another like you. Dhampyre are so hungry all the time they must stay close to their food. For necessity and safety, a city is really only place you can thrive. Even with the inherent dangers a city brings.”
Finally, the Dhampyre reached his limit and sat back. “Are you really so okay with all this stuff I have told you? About luring and eating children, and controlling the will of others? Or about how if it weren't for the fact that my father took the time to rear me, I would have been unable to resist killing my own mother just because of my hunger for a bloodmeal? How can you still sit there and pen what I am telling you with such passivity?”
Trevor blinked slowly a few times and pursed his lips. “Okay is not the word I would use to describe how I am about this. I knew you were a predator from day one, and I knew just because of how the laws of nature work, that you have eaten those weaker than you. But you do not do those things any more. Now you are trying to do good. I do not believe in a lot of things, Adrian, but I do believe in redemption. So... I am not okay with these atrocities, but I accept them as a part of the burden you must carry to redeem yourself. Killing you does neither bring the dead back nor prevent any more deaths, as you no longer desire to kill us.”
“You... really are a remarkable human being, Trevor Belmont. I keep thinking you almost a child because of your features and modesty, and I couldn't be more wrong to continue doing so.”
The Hunter smiled self-consciously. “Can you please tell Sypha that?”
Alucard burst out laughing at the mere thought. “I shall do no such thing. She's frightening, and I fear I have somehow ended up under the same light as you, as far as she is concerned.”
“Coward.” Trevor sighed, but kept his smile. “Primp yourself, Adrian. I think it would be a fine time to start the sketches. I would like to start with your fangs, claws and talons. The portraiture will be last since it will take me some time.” Trevor signalled him to stay where he was before moving the bed tray down closer alongside his knees. He knelt down by Alucard's side and placed a hand on the side of his face, gently tipping, thumb and finger lifting his lips to examine a Dhampyre's most deadly weapon. “Stop talking.” Trevor scolded, when he tried to ask if touching the fangs made him nervous. “And no.”
It was a little more awkward than he'd originally expected to be tilted at odd angles for his features to be entered into the records book. Vanity made him attempt to look dignified at all times, but under such circumstances that was an impossibility. The things a man would do for love, he supposed. It wasn't too bad when the Hunter moved onto sketching his next and favourite weapons, the claws on his hands. Sure, the pointed ovals were nothing like the fearsome talons of his full blooded Vampyre kin, but they'd always served their purpose, and this journey had taught him they could do more than cut tender human flesh. Claws now recorded, Trevor asked him to remove his stockings. Which he reluctantly did with a great amount of embarrassment. Feet naked in the fire and candlelight, he flexed his perfectly normal, un-Vampyric toes, with their soft pink nailbeds and rounded white crescents. Such a shame to not have the talons that should be there. His human feet were such an easy target for mocking as a child.
“You have no talons.” Trevor stated, surprised.
“I am aware.” He replied, embarrassed. “If you are going to laugh about them, do so now while I am prepared for it.”
“Why would I laugh at your feet, exactly?”
“Why else? They are not Vampyre feet. They are not even demon feet. They are soft and human and serve no other purpose but to walk on them. I cannot scale walls or buildings properly because of them.” He spat. “I am very aware of that, no thanks to endless teasing from harpy chicks and beastmen pups as a child. And my mother wondered why I never made any friends in the Castle...” It was obvious the Hunter was trying to keep a straight face, which only raised his ire. “Just let it out already.” He snapped.
“I am not laughing at that.” Trevor insisted. “Who would think that demon children pick on each other like human ones? It is amazing how similar we can be in some aspects. Did they really tease you about these in perfect working order feet?” Alucard nodded hesitantly. “I envy them. Not the demon babes, but these perfectly normal feet.” The Hunter averted his eyes, and his merry grin grew slightly nervous. He toyed with the ties of his hose and asked. “Can I share something with you? It will make you feel a little better about your nice human feet.” After waiting for Alucard to nod, the Hunter slipped free the hose.
At first he couldn't tell what the big deal was. The white smooth skin hidden beneath the hose looked nothing out of the ordinary. At least until the Hunter began to unravel strips of cloth wound around his toes, revealing one by one the coveted talons Alucard had always wished for. “You have talons!” He exclaimed, and quickly clamped his hands over his mouth. For one reason, because it had come out much too loud, and the other being, hadn't the Hunter revealed them like he was sharing a secret shame? “You have talons.” He stated again, more composed. “Why do you have talons?”
“Just always have. Some birth deformity I suppose.”
Thinking back, he gasped, and put the pieces together. “Your fingernails. You said you have to cut them every day because they grow so fast. Do they grow like this if you let them?” The Hunter gave the smallest of nods. “Can I touch them?” He asked, but was already seizing an ankle before Trevor could give his permission. They were glamorous arcs, with smooth translucent colouring and a useful hook shape to the end, perfect for anchoring while climbing. The knuckles of the Hunter's toes were dense, and as he pushed back on the talons he could feel the tendons and bones under the palm of his hand align perfectly for bearing great weight. “These are truly impressive.” He declared, and ran his hand against the edge. It sliced him easily, leaving five red ribbons along his palm. “Strong and sharp.”
“Why did you do that?” Trevor chided, annoyed. He pulled a handkerchief out of Alucard's coat pocket and wrapped his wounded hand. “They are very sharp. Why else do you think I keep them wrapped in fabric?”
“They are beautiful.”
“I wouldn't go that far. They are a deformity. That is why I have to hide it. They can be trimmed like my nails but they are much harder to file down and much easier to just hide away. Especially considering this journey I am on. I don't have the luxury of keeping the length under control out in the wilderness.”
“I love them.” Alucard announced to the baffled Hunter. Continuing to stroke the feet in his lap, talons and all, he stared enviously at them. “I want them for myself. They are beautiful and deadly. This is not deformity, Trevor Belmont, this is a work of utilitarian art.”
“A work of what now?”
“Art with a functional purpose.”
“Their purpose seems to be to shred my hose and my bed sheets when I am not careful with them.” Trevor remarked. “I would gladly trade with you if it were possible.”
“I would gladly accept. I can't stop admiring them; they are everything I have ever wanted in a set of talons. No unsightly bumps or hard bulbous growths. Just smooth elegant curves.”
“All right. I was hoping to make you feel better about being abnormal for a demon, but you are getting more than a little weird about this deformed feet thing. So I am going to put them away now.” The Hunter was true to his word, and Alucard was sad to see such glorious appendages wrapped up and hidden away from the world once again. But then again, now he knew they were there, and could picture them in all their majesty whenever he pleased. “How about we work on the portraiture before Sypha and Grant return and you have to change your face?”
“As you desire, Trevor. It is a pleasure to have your eyes upon me.” Alucard's lips curled devilishly, and he flashed his work in progress just long enough for the Hunter to recognize his own athletic form. “So long as I may continue to capture your image as well.” He took the Hunter's pursed lips and silent concentration as permission.
While Trevor worked, he began to embellish his creation, adding in the finer details and adding objects to his composition that fit the mood. In the end he was left with a warmly lit sepia toned masterpiece of the quiet Hunter, lost in thought as he curled around bed tray and Belmont Bestiary. Caught between his teeth was the end of his pen, his other hand worked into his glossy tresses mindlessly. He'd taken the liberty of embellishing the blankets and adding more and finer stitched pillows, as well as tomes piled hap-hazardously around the preoccupied boy. Nothing about Trevor was changed or enhanced, as he felt that even the boy's flaws were perfect in their deviance, right down to the deep gouge from brow to hairline he'd given the Hunter upon their first meeting. When he was finished with the final touches, Trevor was also just wrapping up, evidently a quick artist. They traded drawings rather shyly.
Recorded for all time in the Belmont Bestiary was his mirror image. The Belmont's understanding of depth and foreshortening was well beyond the norm of such primarily flat iconography popular in churches and palaces of this era. Fifteenth century pieces often had only the beginnings of what was masterfully put to paper here, and rarely so lifelike. Perhaps from being around sculptors, inherent talent, strong mathematical grasp, or a combination of all, Trevor had captured him beyond satisfactorily. “This is very well done. Who taught you to work in three dimensions?”
“Three what now?”
“This.” He said, pointing out the shadows and light giving weight, and the foreshortening of his elbow as his portrait's hand brushed back their hair to reveal a pointed ear. “Who taught you to sketch these kinds of details?”
“...But that is how it would look?” The Hunter replied, confused.
“Yes, but the art of the fifteenth century has not yet...” He stopped himself and shook his head. “Never mind. You have a keen eye and a good understanding of anatomy, far ahead of your time and I swear every little thing I learn about you is amazing and often aggravating. Must you be extraordinary in all you touch?”
To this the Hunter responded by taking back his family tome and hugged it to his chest. “There are a great many things I cannot do and a great many more I am terrible at. I cannot help that you are so infatuated with me you think I can do no wrong.” The Hunter frowned, and moved back to the head of the bed, Bestiary still clutched in the fashion a child would seek comfort from their doll. “Name one thing you don't care for about me.”
“I don't care for the fact that you are asking me this question.” When Trevor's expression refused to change, he sighed and tried again. “I... wish you were less modest about your body sometimes, because it is worth being admired. But then again I also find that aspect of you charming so I guess it's not really a trait I dislike, hmm... What if I truly cannot think of anything?” He asked.
“Then you will have proven to me that you are hopelessly infatuated. And thus, what you say you feel for me is simply desire filling your head and escaping on your tongue. Nobody is perfect, Adrian.”
Well, now he had to ruminate very carefully. How could he answer the question honestly when he really did find something sweet in every feasible flaw? Trevor was shy, but that was adorable. He was modest, but it was charming. He was stubborn, but his hardheadedness gave him the strength to push through fatigue and sickness when he needed to. He was impulsive and a risk taker, but it made him gallant and heroic when he pulled it off. He was confused and unsure emotionally, but it was comforting to know Alucard was not alone in the mire that was these feelings. But... Wait. There was something in that last one. Some tiny nagging... Gripe? “I think I know of one thing that bothers me. Not much, mind you. But you never said I had to name something I hated about you. Just something I wish was different.”
“Go on.” The Hunter encouraged.
“All right... Since we escaped the Sunken City you have spent a lot of spare time in my arms. Especially since I fed upon you in Yomi.”
“You wish I did not do that?”
“I wish you would do it more. I wish you were in my arms right now, but that is not the point I was going to get to. It bothers me that you come to me often seeking something you will not outright ask for, yet you never welcome me to you. It seems like you know I will not refuse you and have been using that to some advantage of yours. Though I cannot specifically say what that is.” The Dhampyre was quick to clarify next. “It does not bother me much, as I enjoy being close to you any way you will allow, but I do wish you were more forthcoming and honest about what you are doing, and why.”
“I was testing how I felt allowing a man to hold me like you do. Demon man or human, did not matter.” It was a simple and almost believable explanation, because it was partially the truth. He could smell the naked statement's honesty just as he could smell numerous hidden unsaid reasons in-between the words.
“That's not quite the whole truth, is it.” He wasn't asking a question. “Keep your secrets if you must. I don't like you less for having them. Perhaps one day you will share what truly is on your mind when you come to me. I suspect our shared dilemma would be easier to solve if you would just come out and say what it is you desire. Is it something you'd like me to do, or something you'd like to do yourself, or something you'd like to try together, who knows? I can't help you when you keep it to yourself.”
“Well, I can't fault you for your answer, nor for doing what I asked.” Trevor resigned himself to the criticism. “So, you find me a touch self-centred when it comes to our budding... Romance.”
“Is that what this is between us?”
“Isn't it? I would say it is a romance built on trepidation. Are you not dead set on courting me, and all the while I am playing the part of the flustered maiden, unsure of what virtues I must forsake in the name of this uncertain love. If it can even be called love?”
“It seems like you have done a lot of thinking these past few days whilst convalescing. I would ask you to share your thoughts, but you wouldn't be so frank with me, would you?”
“Unfortunately no... I don't think I could form a complete coherent thought about it for myself yet. I just have these fragments of things I want to feel, either again or for the first time. There is a selfish need of mine I must reconcile with as well...”
“...So we are no further along in that regard. Do not look so apologetic, Trevor. Take all the time you need to decide what you want. I am happy to wait for you.”
“Well... Not now, because heaven knows when the others will be back but... Later tonight,” The Hunter hedged. “do you think you would be hungry?”
“I am always hungry.” He replied automatically. “You on the other hand, have just barely beaten your fever. It would be absolutely reckless to drink from you when you are so weak.”
“Even just a taste?”
Reason dawning, the Dhampyre couldn't hold back a chuckle. “Trevor... Try plainly asking me what you are really asking me, and I will consider it.”
What a glorious return it was for the Belmont pause. He'd just begun to wonder if they'd grown so comfortable with one another that he'd never experience such poignant pauses again in his life. After a reasonably long stretch the Hunter's will finally caved, and with crimson warming his features he simply came out and asked for what he desired. “If you are not opposed to it... Later tonight I would like you to touch me as you have before. Back in the last village. If you are also not opposed to it... I would like to try touching you too... So I may see how I feel about doing so in kind.”
“Shall we take a break for now and see what Mrs. Dumitru can scrounge up for you to eat?” He suggested matter of factually. “You may need the energy for tonight.”
*****
Nervous energy got the better of the Dhampyre over the course of an evening spent playing cards with Sypha and poking fun at Grant's bizarre contraptions that were promised to be the best thing they'd ever seen once completed. Unable to not be obvious about his eyes wandering over to the the Hunter curled contently in his blankets, Alucard resigned himself to bearing the embarrassment of Sypha's knowing grin every time their eyes met. Honestly nothing slipped by the Mage anyway, so sooner or later she was going to have caught on to their little dance. However, it seemed not only was she aware of the anticipation and charged energy between Hunter and Dhampyre, but that she was actively prolonging the wait for their eventual return to each others embrace with every suggestion of one more round, or question to Grant about his strange snow shoe construction. The woman made for a good chastity belt, if that was what she was trying to be. Finally sleep seemed to win out for both their companions, and Grant turned in for the night. Sypha began to follow suit but stopped him before he could settle into bed beside the Hunter.
“Do you know the custom for two non-blood related or unmarried couples to share a bed?” She queried, knowing full well he had no answer to the question she posed. “One sleeps above the sheet and one below. It is so you will not touch flesh to flesh in the night, and it keeps you modest and virtuous.”
“Really.” He replied in a flat tone. Lifting the sheet in question he grabbed Trevor's wrist through the thin fabric. “It seems I can molest you even through your modesty sheet.” The Hunter laughed at his expression and he continued to hold it. “Alas, who am I to question your human quirks and rules? Under the sheet with you, boy, before I corrupt your soul by brushing elbows in our sleep.” Then, still questioning the purity protection of such a flimsy piece of linen, he slid under the blankets into the Hunter's welcome pocket of body heat.
Eyes closed, he concentrated on the gradually slowing intakes of breath around him. Over the course of this journey he'd discovered a certain tranquility in the sounds humans made as they were carried off into the realm of sleep, and listening to them became a soothing pastime. More so when he felt Trevor's two hands close over his right, smooth digits caressing the inside of his palm and fingers. As the others were not quite tied to their dreams yet, Alucard was whisper quiet when he turned and fell over the Hunter, voice ghosting his ear to shush him. Then, no longer able to contain his evening long anticipation, hungry lips and tongue found their way to a pale throat and roaming hands did what they were want to do, exploring the body hidden beneath a modest sheet. The Hunter used a hand to stifle his sighs and sharp intakes of air, the other alternating between carding through Alucard's hair and seizing hold of his shoulder. Locked in this confined dance, the pair struggled to silently shift free of the sheet between them, eager to feel more of each other, wary about being caught, yet both hopelessly lost in the sensations. When he managed to pull back in order to assess if they'd woken either Grant or Sypha, Trevor followed him up, lips capturing the Dhampyre's.
No matter how many ways he had fantasized his first kiss, in every situation he had always just on instinct known what to do. Every scenario had played out like a storybook, he the devilish rogue riding in to sweep his selected lover off their feet and steal their breath away with perfect execution. This was not what happened by a long shot as those soft lips closed over his stiff and surprised ones. He'd never really stopped to wonder what a kiss would feel like, or the mechanics of one. It wasn't something done to a person like falling over them to feed, it was something done together, a wordless unity through physical action. So as the Hunter preformed his half of this dance with the confidence and ease of a well practised routine, the Dhampyre floundered, frozen with uncertainty. Perhaps realizing something was off, as Alucard was not responding the way someone who seemed to want to be kissed would respond, the hunger in those soft lips vanished, replaced with gentle guidance. Hands on either side of his face tilted him this way and that, achieving numerous perfect angles for various slower, softer kisses, teaching him the foundations all the while slowly building back up that initial fire. Now with a budding rhythm of his own in development, Trevor left him to set the pace and focused more on exploring his body in much the same fashion as he had the Hunter's.
Hands closed around his wrists and slid up his arms, tracing veins and following the slopes of muscle, which made him smile against the lips pressed to his. Call him vain or not, there was a certain pride gained from having the physique he maintained appreciated. This wasn't the first time the Hunter seemed drawn to his defined muscles either, so it seemed safe to assume whether it stemmed from envy or appreciation, Trevor Belmont liked a well sculpted man. Further evidence was added when the Hunter's steady hands picked at the buttons of his shirt, throwing it wide open in order to explore abdominal and pectoral muscles with the same care and appreciative – possibly envious – attention. He must have liked what he found under that shirt, as once more the Hunter wrestled for control of the situation, forcing him down against the mattress and slipping between splayed legs. Hovering over the Dhampyre now, Trevor leaned in, sliding his body up against Alucard's creating that very same exquisite friction Alucard had been desiring as he dipped his head to recapture the Dhampyre's lips. He surrendered completely to the Hunter's hunger, basking in the fervent more experienced attention, gasping when those petal soft lips ventured lower.
Upon being on the receiving end of feather kisses and tongue along his jawline and down the tendons of his neck, he finally understood just why the Hunter had sounded so desperate and needy as Alucard struggled to keep the same hot and wet noises from escaping. Only the Hunter wasn't satisfied with such a small terrain to explore. He wanted a taste of more of the land, and kept to his exploratory trail south. Hands drew feather-light patterns up his sides while tongue swirled equally complex symbols down his chest, tracing the muscle line down to his navel and below, skirting the hem of his trousers. Next a hand was sliding down the inside of his thigh, hooking under his knee. As the Hunter slid back up his body, he brought the captive leg with him, forcing it into a bent position to his side, and the Dhampyre was overcome with nervousness. Instinct rebelled against being put in such a vulnerable position. He was Moroi. A Dhampyre. It should be he who was the hunter in this, not the prey, so why did he submit so easily to nothing more than heavy petting and body friction? Resolved to take back his predatory status he reached out to seize hold of the Hunter only to have each wrist caught and pressed firmly to the mattress.
Trapping Alucard with nothing more than his hands, a knee placed perfectly to keep his bent one in position, and a lidded but wolfish look, Trevor thrust his hips slow and deliberately against his. Finally, it all made sense. That delicious friction he'd sought out time and time again as if trying to scratch an itch he couldn't quite reach... Held as he was in the position Trevor had put him in, the point of contact was his life-long poorly neglected reproductive organ, and with only a few grinding thrusts he regret never having been curious enough in all this time to see what the big fuss was all about. No wonder humans and demons alike couldn't stop rubbing up against each other in the night, when something so easy could feel so incredible. But the Hunter wasn't finished sharing new and amazing body discoveries, still grinding into him steadily but now dipping his head back down to capture a nipple in a suckling kiss. Forced to bite down hard upon his own tongue to keep from crying out, he writhed uncontrollably under such surprisingly effective ministration. Never would he have guessed a tongue or finger lightly flicking a body part he'd thought served only a purpose to feed young would feel so damn good. Between the overwhelming pleasure between his legs and the distracting sensations everywhere else, Alucard found himself letting out a frustrated whimper. He wanted to cry out, to moan, to communicate that he felt too good. He needed to move, to stifle his cries, to either abate some of the pleasure or seek it out to completion, he couldn't decide. But he couldn't do any of those things in this shared room, being held down and overpowered in such a position of vulnerability. The struggle against the ceaseless tide was driving him to madness.
Trevor must have heard his pained shallow noises for in the next moment he was rolling off him and whispering so many apologies they all ran together near incomprehensibly. Free to move now, he sat up as well, and took a moment to regroup his scattered and pleasure addled thoughts. The Hunter was still apologizing, no doubt assuming his whimpers had been a plea to stop, so Alucard corrected him by leaning back in for a gentle, almost chaste kiss. “If you kept that up any longer than you did I could not remain quiet.” Alucard whispered into the Hunter's ear. His hands mindlessly caressed thighs, chest and arms, really anything he could reach in an attempt to assuage the Hunter's thoughts that he'd done anything wrong. “I wish you would do that to me all night but I can't... I can't hold it in. It feels so good.”
“You are all right?” The Hunter asked once more for assurance, and looked strangely pole-axed when he nodded.
“Well...” He found his own hand mindlessly drifting down to seize hold of the hardened length hidden beneath the fabric of his trousers. “Actually this is a very uncomfortable state to be in when nothing is happening to it.” He tried to smirk but it fell through. To go from so much pleasure to nothing was painfully jarring. Mostly painful.
“Did... you want to stop?” The Hunter ventured.
The question drew his rapt attention, setting his mind off in a world of possibilities. Just how would Trevor surprise him next if only they could continue? Inquiring minds had to know. “I will wake them up.” He replied forlornly. “Your touch feels too incredible.”
“But if it weren't for our audience would you want to keep going?” Trevor barely waited for the complete nod before pulling him to his feet. “Grab the blanket.” He whispered and Alucard complied. Stepping quietly to the door, leading Dhampyre by hand, Trevor slipped through the exit and ventured down into the darkness that was the closed and shuttered tavern.
The twin fireplaces burned low, giving off precious little light and leaving the room cool against his exposed chest and bare feet. Yellow eyes had little time to survey the vacant room, as the Hunter urged him gently towards the couch and padded twin high-back chairs before the dying flames of the fireplace closest to the stairs, and tucked more privately in a nook. Once there Trevor seemed to wait for him to choose where to sit, so he chose the couch, as there was room both of them there. Really, his considerations mattered not one whit as it turned out the Hunter had already chosen to straddle his lap, lips closing over his own the moment he had settled. Soft hands caressed up his sides, thumbs lightly flicking back and forth across his nipples in that way that made him whimper, the Hunter fully aware of how sensitive he was there now. The pleasurable assault kept up, lips and tongue tasting the pointed shell of his ear, his neck, collarbones, shoulders. Hands grew familiar with the terrain of his torso and moved on to hips and thighs. All the while the Dhampyre choked back moans and cursed the years he'd wasted not partaking in activities such as this, as something pressurized within himself in an agonizingly slow build towards... He wasn't sure yet.
Just then the Hunter's experienced hands slowed, his touch now soothing with none of the frenetic urgency from mere seconds ago. His lips brushed up along his flesh until he could capture the Dhampyre's in a soft affectionate kiss, measured movement all working towards controlling the fires he'd set across Alucard's body. But the Dhampyre was of two minds about this. The pleasure had been maddening, but the build in his body was now stagnate and impossible to ignore. Something needed to be released, somehow and some way. Staying in such a state would be unbearable, and he made a disappointed noise at the mere thought.
“What is wrong?” Trevor whispered.
Unable to find the words to describe what he was feeling inside, the Dhampyre simply reached out and wrapped his arms around the Hunter's waist, pulling him tight. “That was my first kiss back upstairs.” He confessed suddenly without any prompt. “I will never forget that you were my first kiss.”
While he couldn't see the Hunter's expression from his clingy position, he could feel the vibration of soft laughter. “I thought so... And I am very sorry to hear that. You could have chosen someone so much better, I promise.”
“Don't say that.” He insisted. “I like how it felt, and there is no one else I would ever want to kiss.”
“You like everything I do, though.” The Hunter countered, amusement in his tone.
“That's true.” He agreed readily, but continued hesitantly. “Do you not like what I do? Is that why you stopped?”
“Is that why I..? No, not at all.” The Hunter replied, and tried to pull him free from his chest-clutching position of safety. “Adrian, look at me.” The Hunter sighed when he would not oblige. “Adrian... I stopped because I thought maybe I should, that's all. I don't know how far is too far. Will you please look at me?”
“I can't right now.” He explained. “My chest hurts and my body is so uncomfortable. If I look at your lovely face I am not sure what will happen.”
In spite of his protests the Hunter managed to wrest him free and pushed him back against the cushions to better observe his features. “Did I hurt you? Where in your chest does it hurt? Is it a physical pain or is it tight, like emotional? Where are you uncomfortable?” Suddenly the Hunter was scrambling to get to his feet. “Shit, I am sorry, I should probably get off you.”
“Please don't.” He cried out in such a low pathetic voice, the Hunter froze in place. Alucard reached out and seized hold of the Hunter once more, face pressed to Trevor's ribcage to better hear the steady calming beat of his heart. “Don't leave me alone like this.” He bemoaned, not entirely sure exactly what 'this' was. “It aches, Trevor. It aches and I don't know what to do about it.”
“Adrian...” Trevor started softly, settling back down. “What is wrong with...” The Hunter froze again for a minute, continuing once a decision had been made. With a single hand the Hunter reached out and splayed it across the hard ridge below his belt. The simple touch alone wrung an anguished moan from out the Dhampyre. “This is what aches?” Alucard nodded. “Well, you must know what to do about that. The same thing that got you into that state in the first place.” The Hunter tried to explain, with crimson staining his features.
“You got me into this state.” The Dhampyre half-accused, half-beseech.
“Well I...” The Hunter was now the one floundering. “I guess I did. Fair enough... Look. Just... You know. Take it out. I won't look.”
Lacking a solution of his own, he did as he was instructed, unfastening his belt and the buttons of his trousers. His manhood strained against the cotton fabric of his small clothes, springing out almost gleefully when he pulled on the hem of his undergarments. The engorged state of his oft neglected organ was almost fascinating... Or it would have been if the uncomfortable pressure in his body would allow him to focus on anything other than how much being in this longing state ached. The Hunter kept his eyes fixed upon the embroidered cushions behind them, but reached out and took his hand, guiding him to the source of his agony.
“What felt so good was me rubbing up against you.” The explanation came quick and quiet, as the Hunter grew increasingly embarrassed by having to walk a grown demon through such an unmentionable act. “So just recreate that yourself.” When Alucard made no move, the Hunter sighed a litany of French words and with a hand over the Dhampyre's to guide, had Alucard take hold of his own manhood in a firm grip, and started to stroke up and down the engorged shaft. After a few strokes the Hunter removed his helping hand. “Just keep doing that and your problem will go away eventually.”
Doing as he was told, the Dhampyre narrowed his eyes. The motion did feel pleasurable, but it was nothing like having a warm athletic body slide up against him. This was a mechanical pleasure. There was no emotion or passion in it. It was a means to an end, even someone as inexperienced as he in the matter could tell. “It feels better when you were doing it.” He finally broke down and admitted.
To his surprise the Hunter chuckled. “Of course. It always feels better when someone else does it.”
So why aren't you doing it? He was about to ask when his own eyes wandered down the Hunter's crisp white sleepshirt. Knowing what he did now, the uneven folds of the shirt across the Hunter's lap formed a suspiciously similar shape. With his free hand he grasped the Hunter's own desire through the virginal fabric, and took a slight moment to marvel at the heat in his hand. “You have the same problem.” He stated, relieved to not be the only one suffering.
Trevor yelped and clamped his hand cover his mouth to keep from waking the entire tavern. “You do not just reach out and grab another man's cock like that.” He hissed.
The Dhampyre let go with a confused apology. “I don't understand, Trevor. If you are like this as well, why are you choosing to suffer? If it feels better to have someone else do it and we are both like this, then why not just take care of the problem together? Did you stop because you didn't want me to see you like this? Because that is a moot point now, so there's no reason to abstain. It's uncomfortable... And I don't think touching myself is going to make it go away when all I can do is think about how much better it felt for you to touch me.”
“You really are a demon of Desire...” The Hunter muttered. “I stopped because I thought it was the right thing to do. The situation seemed to get a little out of hand, but still, I didn't want to push you too far just for my own selfish reasons. It seems like I am not being very fair am I? After all I already got mine back in Yomi...” The Hunter let out an exasperated noise, but Alucard didn't feel like the annoyance was aimed at him. “Its also seems you were correct. I really am self-centred when it comes to this... Still, selfish or not, can I ask you one thing before we do this?”
“You can ask me anything, you know that.”
Trevor nodded, and using a leg knocked Alucard's wide open, giving him room to kneel between them. “Try not to stare too hard. I am very self conscious.” With the request out of the way, the Hunter pulled the sleepshirt up and over his head in a fluid motion, discarding it without a thought to where it would end up. As he shifted a little closer Alucard found it very hard to adhere to his request, as the slender nude body before him, busy aligning his manhood's underside along Alucard's, begged to be admired and adored. “Give me your hand. You have to do some work too.” The Hunter instructed, and guided the offered hand back to their flush organs. Once fingers were properly laced around the pair of heated shafts, Trevor began to move his hips, sliding his manhood exquisitely along the underside of Alucard's counterpoint to the rhythm of their hands. “Are you all right?” A soft voice inquired.
Unable to answer with words he simply nodded his head from where he clung, forehead pressed to Trevor's collarbones, and hoped the Hunter had understood. In his gut the fires were stoked higher and higher, and for all the times before he'd thought the flames of desire for this human creature would consume him, this time he was certain it was true. “Where did an innocent angel like you learn to do such a thing?” He managed to ask between choking back moans and stifling gasps.
“Church” Trevor replied with a humorous grin. “Caught the choirboys in the act more than once.”
“And wherever did choirboys learn such a thing?”
Trevor's humour soured, his grin pressing into a thin line while he considered his answer. “I'd prefer not to think too hard about that, as it's not exactly productive at the moment. I am trying to get you off, not be put off.” The Hunter resumed his ministrations, picking up the pace from right where he'd left off. “Let me know when you are going to come.”
“When I..?” Alucard's frazzled mind was slow on the uptake. He blinked confusedly for an embarrassing moment before remembering the term. “How would I know?” He asked honestly.
Rather than answer, the Hunter gave him a mischievous grin and took full control of his aching swollen member. With ruthless unabating strokes, his senses were lost to him, and he could only cry out wantonly as the building pressure stretched, so close to it's peak... and then stopped. Body still going haywire, breath still stolen, he could only float down the unsteady river of his sensations hoping to find anything to hold onto. Slowly the dark empty tavern became a cohesive vision, and he could feel the Hunter's hand squeezing rather uncomfortably around the base of his manhood.
“That's how you will know.” Trevor finally responded, and resumed the languid strokes. Gentle, but incessant, and slowly building in speed. As his grip on any sense of control waned, he did as Trevor asked, only to cry out in agonizing frustration when the whole process was repeated. The mountain of pleasure was scaled in record time, but he held his tongue, needing desperately for this painful pleasure to come to an end. “Nice try.” The Hunter complimented as he stole the summit from the Dhampyre once again. “But I think I have a pretty good idea of how your body works now, Adrian.”
“This is torture.” He whimpered uselessly, for he had no strength in any limbs to put up a better protest.
Gently, a hand curled around the back of his head and pulled him into the Hunter's embrace. That other blasted hand was already back to the torturous task. “Hush... I am not hurting you, I promise. Patience is well rewarded, Adrian, and I would know. Imagine for a moment you are the sole young man in a house full of women. Every time you turn around you are asked for favours. Reach this on the high shelf, fix that door handle, catch that mouse. You would barely get a moment to yourself in such a living arrangement.”
The Dhampyre was trying to follow along, he really was, but how could anyone be expected to pay attention to wherever the hell this tangent was going under such conditions? “Trevor, please.” Voice still a whimper, he tried to beg for mercy but the Hunter once more cruelly pulled him back from the white hot heat of the abyss.
“Married or not, man or woman, there are times you just have to... take care of yourself.” Trevor continued. “But as mentioned, that is very hard to do when you can barely get five minutes to yourself. Just by happenstance I noticed that the more often I was interrupted, and the longer and slower it took to actually come... The relief in such a release was almost enough to make me lose my mind.” The Hunter fell quiet and watched him serenely in the moment that coveted release was denied to him yet again. “This is your first time... To make up for the fact that my subpar kissing was your first kiss, I would like the first time you spill your seed to be something you will never forget, even if you live to be thousands of years old.”
“I... I can't take any more of this.”
“Hush... Sure you can.” The Hunter soothed, divesting him of shirt and then laying them down side by side upon the couch. Oddly, he was coherent enough to realize the Hunter used his one hand and his toes to snake his trousers and undergarments down and off, leaving them equally bare in the blissfully cool air. Trevor welcomed him to curl into Hunter's body, both hands now stroking his body. One to torture, the other to sooth. “But when you truly and honestly can't take any more, let me know.”
How long they lay together like that, Hunter toying with his prey, he could not say. The waves of stolen ecstasy crashed against the shoreline in shorter and shorter bursts and somewhere lost at sea he thought if he died like this, there would be no regrets. Just as he slipped under the tide a rope was tossed into the tumultuous sea. A faraway voice told him to hang on, he had done enough and could take no more. He was pulled from out the dark depths and into the sky. All was white. All was warm. Every part of him was spent, used, abused, yet somehow still here. The Hunter was still there when he gathered enough of himself to take in his surroundings, though he cared for little more than that fact alone. Loving hands were toying with his hair, running down his back and up his arms, and he basked in the attention, far too listless to do much else. Other than have his mind wander, of course.
“You apologized to me in Yomi after I fed upon you.” He murmured into Trevor's chest, using a finger to weakly slide through the sticky, rapidly cooling mess of his own making between them. “You... This happened to you because of what I did.”
“Yes...” Trevor admitted in a subdued voice. “The journey here from France was so long, and we were constantly ferried by couch night and day. All that jostling around and cramped quarters with two small children made for poor romance. Between Estée's pregnancy and the twins and then all of this... It had been a very long time since anyone touched me. It just sort of happened when I volunteered my blood. I had no idea the very act of being fed upon would feel like that. Hopefully... I have made up for that transgression.”
“I'll tell you what I told you back then once more. You've done no wrong by me, Trevor Belmont.”
“Tell me that again tomorrow morning. You may have a change of heart.” The Hunter sighed. “How are you feeling?”
“As if there is nothing left inside my body. My muscles burn as if I have worked them, and my mind rebels against me trying to put it to task in order to answer you.”
The Hunter chuckled softly. “That is perfectly normal... However, I am not asking you how you are, I am asking you how you feel. Will you regret this, or are you ashamed? Have I pushed you too quickly into something you are just now realizing you are not ready for? Especially after we agreed a few days ago to just let what was happen organically.”
In all honesty, he could not quite say how he felt about the painfully exquisite exchange. Even after all that time spent basking in loving caresses, his emotions had yet to settle into their new order, leaving him with a lost sense of self. Putting off the admission of confusion, he instead asked. “How are you feeling, Trevor? Are you now regretting what you've chosen to test?”
“Not at all. Which surprises me as much as anybody, I assure you. I am not repulsed to be with you like this, although I get the sense if it were any man but you laying here I could not say the same. Women are soft, and I like how their bodies curve no matter how you look at them, and while this was different, it wasn't a bad kind of different. There is something to appreciate in the strength of your embrace, as well as the bone structure of your face. The real face.” As if to underscore his point, the Hunter ran the back of his knuckles down the side of his visage, gliding over sharp cheekbone and angular jaw. “Simply put... I do not regret molesting you. After we got through the modesty sheet.”
The Hunter's soft laughter drifted by musically, but left him unaffected. Something was not quite right, something so fundamental to his being he couldn't even put his finger on what was missing. It was as if the Hunter had remoulded him during their lovemaking like so much soft clay, skilled hands refashioning him into something that was not what he had been. This loss of identity was frightening, leaving him distressed and confused. Was it because he had been the docile submissive one? Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș, Dhampyre Prince of the Castle, yielding to a human boy two months shy of twenty? Was it the loss of pride or face that unsettled him so? How could a single act change him..? Alucard shook his head but the muddling thoughts had settled thick. Yet through the mire, the smallest ray of light guided him to his answer, and he gasped out of both terror and exhilaration.
“Are you all right?” Trevor asked with great concern.
Unable to cease his trembling, he simply clung to the lithe creature at his side, nervous laughter escaping with every breath. “I...” Could it even be put into words, how monumental a moment this was? What the realm of possibilities from this point on could encompass? “Trevor... I am not hungry.” He tried to explain weakly. “I feel... I think I feel human.”
The Hunter was quiet for a long time, enough that the nervous exhilaration waned greatly in lieu of his outright terror at not being his Moroi self. Was it wrong for him to feel like this? Was it wrong for a Dhampyre, such an insatiable demon of Desire, to have no appetite and no desire for anything other than laying peacefully in his lover's embrace?
“Adrian...” Trevor began in a quiet voice. Light from the dying fire danced in his eyes when Alucard dared to meet his gaze. “You are human.”
“I... am human.” He whispered repeatedly, caught in a loop before the Hunter freed him with a chaste kiss. “No one has ever told me that. I know what I am, but still... To actually hear it out loud...”
Trevor smiled warmly at him before sighing heavily. “Not to take away from this magickal moment of yours... But if we stay down here any longer we are going to get caught. And run out of town.” With another long sigh, the Hunter climbed out from under him and went fishing for his sleepshirt. Alucard's clothing was tossed his way as Trevor searched, and he dressed mindlessly. “Come on.” The Hunter urged, offering his hand and leading them back up the stairs, into their silent room, and straight into their shared bed. When the Dhampyre made to fold the flimsy sheet between them, the Hunter gave him a strange look and pulled the blankets, sheet and all, back for him to settle beneath. “If she truly meant it, about that modesty thing, she would have done a proper bundling.” He explained with a whispered chuckle. “Or she should have.”
Shifting together under the warmth of their shared blankets and body heat, they discovered a sleeping arrangement that was both comfortable and connected. Curled under Alucard's chin, the Hunter was fast asleep within seconds, leaving the Dhampyre to drift towards a great unknown. Arms and legs grew heavy as his eyelids refused to remain open. Strange as it was, the call of this odd void did not frighten him, rather he willingly reached towards it, stark blackness enveloping every thought, worry and reason. There was nothing to do but surrender, which he did.
A great many days later he would recall this moment and marvel at what he'd always thought was an impossibility.
Wrapped tightly around the source of all his new wonders, Alucard drifted off to sleep.
Notes:
If it feels like a bunch of moments from different chapters were unceremoniously smooshed together, it's not just you. That's exactly what had to happen because I messed up some pacing early on. Live and learn...
Chapter 15: The Many Faces of Trevor Belmont
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
June 2037 ~ Suginami ward, Tokyo
The air surrounding the lithe waif was thick with danger, the room tense with fear. Patients rooted in place out of curiosity, confusion and concern stood poking heads out of their private rooms, or huddling against the far walls of the main floor in hopes of avoiding the threat before them. Nurses hovered between the boy and the other patients, torn between their duty to their wards and their self preservation, and before them the able bodied orderlies who were not busy trying to calmly talk down the obviously frightened injured man, whispered amongst themselves. Yoko could only assume they were weighing the options of just tackling the boy en masse, which if she spoke Japanese she would start screaming about what a terrible idea that was going to turn out to be. There was one thing being in her line of work taught you hard and fast or you died, and that was how to identify a serious threat. The brunette's completely average size, his partially starved frame, and the blood staining his sides from a damaged hanging intravenous tube painted a beguiling picture of a wavering strength, emboldening the well meaning orderlies with a very incorrect, possibly fatal, sense of assurance. They may succeed in the end, but she knew people were going to die if something didn't intervene.
Weighing the lives of some good men against the safety of Alucard's long lost lover-boy was an easy choice to make. A burn would heal after all, given enough time. As she gathered the mystical power needed to summon her witchfire, Julius and Genya stepped to either side of her. The gruff old Hunter made a quick gesture towards the Dhampyre before pulling her closer to his side, and forcing her to turn her sight back towards the elevator. She eyed him suspiciously. Couldn't he tell the boy from the cave was about to get medieval on a bunch of innocent people? Of course Julius had had a good reason, how stupid of her to even question it. She could hear Genya speak, more commanding than anything else, in Japanese, and the room stilled into perfect silence. When she turned, patients, orderlies, and nurses stood comically frozen, stilled by the force of Alucard's Will. Genya was long gone.
Everyone except the injured boy. How he had withstood such a direct force, even with the language barrier, was quite telling of his fortitude. Hell, language barrier and even without physically seeing the Dhampyre command this stillness, Yoko still had felt a pull on her autonomy. Seemingly without any hurry the Dhampyre picked his path between the frozen statues, drawing the boy's full attention.
The brunette wavered slightly, his free hand half raising towards a head he shook, as if trying to break through some kind of pain. While every beep and page of the hospital's equipment gave him a visible start, his eyes were focused solely on the shape moving towards him, but something in the way he peered and squinted made Yoko believe he still could not see properly. The closer Alucard drew, the more white knuckled his grip on that comically oversized syringe grew. “I think that is close enough.” The boy's voice, nothing at all what Yoko imagined it would be, seemed to hold the same power over the Dhampyre as he had exerted over the room. “A Vampyre out in the open. Are all these people your thralls?”
It was Romanian he was speaking, as she could understand him with some effort. The dialect and word choices were odd and antiquated, and there was also a very distinct, heavy accent she couldn't quite place. Wherever this boy hailed from, Romanian was not his mother tongue.
When Alucard said nothing the boy scoffed. “What, are you a mute? That would be my luck.” This time the boy spoke in German, which was much better sounding than his Romanian, but still heavily accented.
“I was hoping I'd hear you speak French to me if I waited long enough.” Alucard finally replied, in an unaccented version of the old-timey Romanian the boy had used. His words, though sounding playful, seemed to instantly put the boy's back up. The Dhampyre ventured another step closer but was warned once more to not get any ideas.
Syringe now pointed in the direction of the Dhampyre's heart, the boy shook off another wave of what Yoko assumed was dizziness or head pain. “You have me at a great disadvantage, Vampyre.” Dated Romanian was going to be the language of choice, it seemed.
“I never have you at a disadvantage, Trevor Belmont. It is a frustration I have long since learned to welcome.” Alucard replied, ignoring the warning and taking yet another step closer.
“If you come over here I am going to stake you. You may tear my throat out, but you are not going to walk away from this. I will consider it a victory to die killing you.”
“I see you still haven't learned how duels work.” To this the Dhampyre chuckled, quietly at first, before outright laughter overtook. When he was able to beat back his humour he took another dangerous step closer towards the perplexed, and suddenly uncertain boy. “Yes, I have heard you threaten me that before. I believe the first time we met. I still believe as I did back then, too. To die by your hand would be an ecstasy all on it's own.”
The needle waved tellingly in the air, as the firm edge of the boy's face softened into open vulnerability. His head shook once again, but not out of pain. “Say something only he would say.” The brunette whispered, something both forlorn and hopeful in the hushed tone.
“I just admitted you staking me would be a great pleasure.” Alucard replied just as soft, daring to step now all but an arms length away. “What do you want to hear? That we met in an underground cavern in my mother's sunken laboratory? That you saved me from the Lord of the Lake? That we teased Grant endlessly about those damned snow shoes of his that turned out to be the greatest asset to our journey moving forward? That you walked me hand in hand into a church of all places because you thought I was a good man and made me believe it too?”
A small tremble came over the brunettes body, and he half lowered his threatening weapon. “Those are just facts. Anyone could have told you that. Sypha or Grant could have told stories and what you are saying is merely that. Hearsay.”
“Did you want to hear about Lupu?” Alucard inquired softly, and the boy stilled. “Must I remind you of confessing your fears and desires to me? That you did not wish for your children to be burdened with your legacy? That you did not want your birthright, that holiest of whips?”
“Stop.”
“I promised I would take care of you. That you would never know hunger or danger or pain ever again. That I would dress you in finery and you could spend your days in the forests studying rare creatures rather than hunting them, and your children would be free to become scholars or whatever they desired because they would never know what it was to struggle.”
“That's enough.”
“You told me you would be happy to be mine if I could.”
“It just simply cannot be that easy!” The brunette cried out suddenly, quite obviously continuing an argument from yesteryear.
“But I would make it that easy. I promised I would.” Alucard countered. “You are only angry because you wanted terribly to believe me. I believe you still do.” The Dhampyre inhaled slowly and opened his arms partially to either side. “It's been a long time, Trevor, and I am aware that is entirely my fault. Yet I must ask of you one favour, knowing full well I have no right to ask anything of you. For just a moment... Just a fleeting one...” Here Alucard's voice cut short. When he continued it was in a tone that sounded as vulnerable as the unsteady boy looked. “Could you forget what I've failed to do for you, and come to me?”
“You are bloody correct you have no right to ask me for anything.” The boy spat automatically, but he faltered almost immediately after the words left his mouth. The large syringe trembled in his unsteady hands before it was finally dropped, and while for a few moments the boy seemed surprised his feet were carrying him into the open arms of the Dhampyre, he surrendered gracefully. Pale arms snaked up Alucard's chest, hands resting loosely between shoulders and collarbone, as the boy tucked himself neatly into the Dhampyre's enfolding arms. Once he was safe in the larger man's embrace, words started to pour out of him unbidden, and the fierce dangerous threat from earlier revealed himself to be little more than a scared hurting boy. “Everything hurts and I don't know where I am. There were all these people trying to hold me down, and strange things in my body, and strange noises all around me. I can't see properly either. What if I am blind?”
“Hush now, you are not blind.”
“But I can't even see you clearly and you're right in front of me. And my head... I keep getting this pain that makes my teeth ache it's so bad.” The boy whined, dismissing Alucard's soothing. “I don't care where I am, I don't like it and I don't want to be here. If you've come to rescue me can we leave? Please, Adrian. I don't want to be here.”
Suddenly it must have occurred to the Dhampyre that he was standing in the middle of a hospital floor full of people he had commanded to freeze in place. The very fact that no one from the lower floors had come up in the middle of this debacle was nothing short of a miracle. “Let's talk somewhere more private, all right?” He suggested, lifting the boy into his arms.
“Somewhere out of here?” The boy asked hopefully.
“This is a place of convalescence and you are an injured man. That is why you are here.” He explained, returning to the private room the boy had escaped from. Yoko and Julius followed at a distance, slipping in along the wall and sinking into the waiting chairs there so as to not draw attention to their moving shapes. Yoko didn't avoid his attention for very long as Alucard was pulling her to the bedside seconds later. “I have to go set those people outside free.”
“Don't leave me here.” The boy insisted firmly.
“I will just be gone a moment. I can't leave them like that, now can I?” Taking the boy's hand and hers, he joined them. “This is my friend Yoko.” He paused and then stressed her last name. “Yoko Belnades. She is a sorceress and nothing is going to get passed her that means you any harm until I get back. All right?”
“Umm, hello.” She started in English automatically, before making the switch over to Romanian. “Hello, Trevor was it?” The boy peered up at her apprehensively but nodded after some time. “It's nice to meet you... Well meet you awake. You've been out of it for a few days.” Yoko mentally slapped herself for rambling, and gave the leaving Dhampyre a helpless look he ignored rather well. How the hell was she supposed to make small talk with a boy she struggled to understand who just might be from six hundred years in the past? A look in Julius' direction also offered no solution. In fact the old Hunter was too busy with his fricken' journal out, taking notes.
“Are you related to Sypha?” The boy asked in a small voice.
The question took her a little aback. “I... My grandmother is named Sypha. I'm afraid I don't believe she is the Sypha you are thinking of though. My grandmother passed away two years ago.”
“Oh...” The boy lowered his gaze and toyed the corner of his hospital sheets. “Can you tell me what this place is? It's all blurry.”
“You're in a hospital.” She replied and the boy gave her a puzzled look. “Do... you not know what a hospital is?” Once more she mentally slapped herself. All agents of the Church went through some training in interrogation, as it was a skill one may have to rely on when investigating. One of the golden rules was to never talk down to or make your person of interest feel stupid or insulted. She could see the injured boy closing off and rushed to smooth over the blunder and salvage her shot at getting some info out of the kid for the sake of Julius' goddess-damned notes. “It's all right, you are quite a long way from home. A hospital is a place sick and injured people go to heal up and get better. The doctors and nurses are caregivers, and they administer medicine and patch up wounds.”
“Like a hedge mage.” The boy surmised. And Yoko bit her tongue at the prejudiced term. “I... was stabbed. That is why I am here?”
The sorceress cast a quick glance at Julius out of confusion. The boy had been a lot of things. Filthy, naked, starved, sliced, and drained of all his blood, but he hadn't been stabbed as far as she could recall. “Is that what you remember? Being stabbed?” The boy nodded. “Do you recall who stabbed you? What they looked like, or where they were from?”
“Of course. It was one of Dracula's Devil Forgemasters.” A sudden flash of anger lit up the boy's pale coloured eyes.
“A Devil... Forgemaster?” Yoko repeated, just to be certain that was what he'd said. “It wasn't a witch?”
“There was a witch that came to my aide before the blood loss made things a little hazy. Julia, I think she said her name was. Nice lady. For a hedge mage.”
“Right.” If she forced her smile any harder her face was going to split. “Julia didn't hurt you? What does she look like?”
“No, I don't think she did any harm. She stopped the bleeding and helped me hobble back to her hut in the mountains. I was a little out of it, but I remember that she was pretty, if a little cool.”
“Dark haired? Tanned skin?”
“No... She was pale and blonde. Did Julia... do something that... I should know about..?” The boy faltered and squeezed his eyes shut, evidently under another one of those attacks of head pain. It seemed rather than the brief instances from earlier, this particular attack came in short unforgiving waves, the intensity of which caused him to cry out. If this was an act to garner some sympathy or lower her guard, it was certainly a convincing one, as she found herself settling onto the edge of the bed to hold him to her breast, smoothing hair in an attempt to sooth. “I have never felt such a pain.” The boy whined. “I'd rather be stabbed again.”
“Maybe Alucard has or can get some ibuprofen for you. That always gets rid of my headaches. Or maybe you are dehydrated? Can I get you some water?”
“Can you get us out of here?” The boy ventured, an obvious test of both her loyalties and boundaries.
She didn't bother to lie to him, as he'd probably smell her bullshit even if she tried. “As a matter of fact, I could. But I don't know you very well, and it would be very irresponsible of me to let a sick man wander off who can't see a foot in front of his face, now wouldn't it?”
Through a visibly growing fatigue, he countered.“It's irresponsible to stay here. You may call them healers, but whoever these people are, they've perverted my body by invading it. You are a sorceress, no? Do you not sense that we are being watched? This is not a safe place-” Pain cut the boy short, and he did little more than hiss in agony until Alucard returned to the room, some medical staff hot on his heels. “Don't let them touch me.” He begged, whether to her or to Alucard she couldn't say.
Yoko looked on as a cute doctor checked the boy's medical charts and posed some questions to the Dhampyre. Alucard answered him politely, but maintained a hard questioning near-glare in her direction. The doctor chatted some more and tried to examine the boy as best he could but the injured kid in her arms wasn't having any of it and... Ohhh. Oh. That was why Alucard was glaring at her. Almost glaring at her. Silly Yoko, just sitting here like a moron, while she was cradling his sweetheart. As the doctor did his best visual exam, Yoko searched out Alucard's eyes when he had a moment in between answering doctor inquiries to explain.
“He's in terrible pain. I didn't know what else to do.”
“Of... Of course.” The Dhampyre replied, his stony visage softening into something vaguely reminiscent of embarrassment.
Jeeze, Alucard. Jealous much?
A few more minutes of chatting later the doctor was out the door, leaving a nurse alone to re-attach an intravenous tube and some monitors. Yoko relinquished her spot at the boy's bedside, feeling a little bad about doing so when going by the noise he made, he'd preferred if she'd stayed right where she was. As she slinked back to hopefully fade away into the chairs against the wall, she gave the poor boy an apologetic smile he likely couldn't make out from such a distance at current. Sorry, new buddy. I am not getting in the way of a love-struck jealous Dhampyre. Julius mouthed 'good job' to her as she settled down beside him, which made her smile for some dumb reason. What had been good about what she'd done? Weren't they no better off knowledge wise? It didn't sound like the kid had any memory of a dark haired foreign witch. If he had seen her, he would have remembered. She was just that magnetic. Attention returning to the tension in the middle of the room, Yoko watched Alucard attempt to convince the greatly fatigued boy to settle back into bed and allow the nurse to hook him back up, to which he boy protested rather firmly for a person fighting through waves of agony.
“You let this nurse stick you with metal and see how you like it.” The boy spat. “They violated me.” He insisted, pointing down towards the floor by the foot of the bed. Attached below was a catheter tube and bag. Which made sense, given he'd been unconscious for days. “There were strange tendrils inside me, Adrian.”
Alucard winced just as Julius instinctively placed a hand over his crotch and did the same. “Oh, Trevor. Did you pull that out yourself?” The Dhampyre shivered a little. “I can explain what that was later. But I assure you, it wasn't there to harm you.”
“It sure as hell hurt coming out. And anyway, don't even try to convince me some stranger, without my consent, touching my body and putting weird objects inside it is fine.”
Making an apologetic gesture towards the very patient nurse, the Dhampyre took the intravenous ends and placed them in the boys hands. “Do you recall those tinctures and such that Sypha made for us to drink when we were hurt or you were sick? She made us drink them so that when our stomachs absorbed the medicine, it would spread through our bodies. See here? Feel it. It's a little tube. It's attached to that pouch of medicine up on the pole here. The medicine works much better and much faster this way. They let it drip into you bloodstream through this. That is why the nurse must put it back inside you. It's to keep the infection at bay. Do you want to get a gangrenous limb and have to chop it off?”
“...No.”
“Well then. It doesn't hurt. It will pinch a little, but you've had worse.”
“...Are they going to shove that other one back inside me?”
“No. That is for unconscious people. You are awake. And no, before you ask, they are not going to put it back inside you if you fall asleep.” Alucard sighed a little laugh. “Given how exhausted you look, perhaps closing your eyes for a little while might be a good idea.”
“I really shouldn't be so quick to trust you.” The boy grumbled, reluctantly surrendering his arm for the needle before changing his mind at the last moment. “And I don't. Not until you tell me how I got here, why you are here and why you are keeping me captive.” Another spasm of pain wracked the boy's body but he pushed off the Dhampyre's concerned touch with almost a cruel twist of his mouth. “You gave up your right to me when you never came back. You can't leave me and expect to keep me all in the same stride, you arrogant bloodsucking parasite!”
“Ouch.” Alucard reacted automatically, placing a hand over his heart and stepping back. Once more on the offensive, the injured boy worked through his pain, hopping over the bed rail to grab the Dhampyre by his shirt collar. “Trevor, you are not well.” Alucard weakly tried to explain. “You should get back in bed.”
“Where is Julia?” The brunette demanded.
“I... I don't know who that is, Trevor.” The Dhampyre insisted, being forced to enact his Will over the frightened nurse to still her run for help.
The brunette didn't seem to notice. “Fine. Where is Hector?”
“Hector?”
“The Devil Forgemaster Hector. Your father's general. That Hector.”
“That Hector...” Alucard shook his head. “The last I saw him was before my father cut me down. He was giving life to my father's night hoards as he had been doing since he was a child. We didn't see Hector or the other one in the Castle when we infiltrated it, so how do you even know who he was?”
“Then if you cannot answer either of those questions... How did I get here? If they didn't bring me to this white walled prison, and you never met them... Something smells rather fishy, Adrian.”
“This is not a god damned prison, you stubborn ox.” The Dhampyre bit back, exasperated. “I found you naked and sliced up in a cave, all right? There was a coven of witches and a bunch of dead sacrifices lined up, you included. You were the only survivor. Does that answer your question?”
“It sure as hell doesn't!” The boy released the Dhampyre and dropped to his knees, hands cradling his pounding head. “Argh... This is agonizing... Either you're not making sense or I can't think straight.”
As if on cue, the doctor and another nurse carrying what seemed to be an oxygen tank on wheels swept through the doorway with polite, professional smiles on their faces. Alucard released the frozen nurse, and with a few words sent her on some errand, Yoko figured, given how quickly she made her exit. The doctor crouched to observe the groaning boy, and for a change of pace, the brunette seemed too disoriented to fight him off. The trio of Dhampyre, doctor and nurse managed to get the writhing boy to his feet and carry him back into the bed he should have never left, and the nurse used his pain induced submissiveness to reattach his monitoring equipment and IV drip. Shortly after the first nurse returned with another canister to add to the wheeled cylinder caddy. After smoothly getting through all of that, even some extra injections for good measure, it was when the nurses tried to hook the oxygen tank cannula in place over the boy that he gathered the strength to fight them all once more. Yoko rose to her feet to help, even though she had no idea what she could do, but there was no need. Between the four people over the bed, the brunette was held down long enough to be strapped down to the bed like a patient deemed a threat to themselves and others... It was sort of appropriate. He was out of control. The cannula were inserted and taped in place, the oxygen turned on, and shortly after the other canister was also added to the mix. Medical staffed looked things over, testing straps and tubing, before taking their leave once satisfied.
The brunette in the bed was definitely not satisfied with this new arrangement. He openly sneered at Alucard, teeth bared and breathing heavy. “How can I be both so relieved to see you when I am so furious with you?” The boy spat his vitriol in a cutting tone. “If I had known looking at you was going to hurt me like this, I'd have wished more earnestly for you to never return.”
“If I had known I was going to hurt you like this, I would have wished I never fell in love with you in the first place. So we're both having our regrets.”
“Why are you doing this to me? Just let me go. You already did once. It should be easy for you.”
Exhaling audibly, the suddenly exhausted looking Dhampyre braced himself with arms on either side of the tied down boy and leaned over just enough so that the injured brunette didn't have to strain his neck looking up at the taller man. “I am not doing anything to you. You were almost killed in a dark and damp cave, Trevor Belmont. I have some Hunter friends in this area who want to talk to you about that cave and those people who did this to you. You need to get well so you can help them stop that coven. People's lives are in danger as long as they are around.”
“I don't remember anything about a cave. I was in the Castle.” The brunette replied, eyes growing heavy.
“Perhaps you don't recall right now. You were horrifically injured... I thought you were dead in my arms. It might take some time for your memories to align.”
“Fine. I have a lot of questions, but I can't stay awake for much longer... I will help your Hunter friends if I can, because it is the right thing to do. I am not doing it for you, are we clear on that?”
“Yes... We are clear on that.”
“Good. One more thing...”
Alucard cried out in both pain and surprise. “This is my fault for not removing that from my person.” He hissed.
“This... is your fault... for mishandling... my heart.” The boy explained, his eyelids finally shutting for good.
Yoko scratched her head, confused. It was only when Alucard backed up from the bed that she could see his own silver belt knife plunged deeply into his ribs. She made a quick dash to the cabinet and pulled some gauze and a wound compression pad free while Julius helped eased the Dhampyre into a chair and pulled free the blade. The knife had missed literally every single vital thing it could have nicked or punctured to such a degree one might believe that had been the intent all along. A message. Or retribution. Or both. Probably both. Yoko patched up the Dhampyre for the second day in a row while the old Hunter re-secured the boy's stabbing arm, and then tightened the other wrist restraint for good measure.
“Don't make that face, Yoko.” Alucard said with a small smile. “If he wanted me dead, he would have plunged it through my heart. He had the perfect opportunity.”
The sorceress scoffed, unable to hide her irritation. “This is the second time he's made you bleed in twenty four hours. How are you smiling?”
“I can smile because now I know for certain he doesn't want me dead. That is progress, as far as I am concerned.”
“You've seriously lost it. Julius is right, this reeks of some weird Stockholm thing, and you're not even the one tied down to a bed.” Yoko tightened the last of the bandages with more force than necessary and marched over to the bed so as to better conduct an arcane examination of the sleeping menace, determined to find something off with this cruel demon in angel's clothing. “What are you, Trevor? Besides a scrawny bite-size bully?”
“What is in that other canister, Alucard? He went down far more easily than I was expecting.” Julius inquired, watching her work.
“The pain he is experiencing is cluster headaches. The doctor thinks it may be from the mix of drugs he was on when he first came in. They should dissipate as his body purges it, but in the meantime pure oxygen should reduce the attacks. I merely suggested one of the nurses also bring us some nitrous oxide... He was getting out of hand.” The Dhampyre explained. “Perhaps he will be in a better mood the next time he wakes up. I am sorry you didn't get to ask him any questions, Julius.”
The old Hunter shrugged a shoulder. “I am learning quite a bit. He is very convincing, isn't he? I can see why you want to believe he is who you think. If I am being honest, I am also starting to believe there may be some serious magick at work.”
“The shadows my father's Castle bring to life can only glean so much from you when producing the doppelgangers. If we are to be pragmatic and open too all possibilities, I will not cast aside the idea that it is possible my connection to the Castle as well as the vast amount of time I have spent within it could produce the optimal conditions and ample opportunity to create something so much more real than any other doppelganger. It's just... Well he knows too much. All the unspoken things in his eyes... I find it very difficult to accept it could be manufactured.”
Yoko waited for a lull in their conversation to speak. “Well I can say to the best of my abilities, he is what he is appears to be. Physically anyway. There are no illusions or glamours, or transmutation spells at work here. There is something in his aura that is special and... I guess I would say more than human. But if he is supposed to be a Belmont, and one of the greatest ancestors, I suppose that could be the explanation for that.” She hovered her hand over his face, probing with spiritual energy. “It's right here where that special sense is strongest. It's... I don't know how to describe it. Vibrant, maybe? I feel no evil or devilry in it.”
Julius came to her side and stared down at the sleeping boy who really shouldn't look so cherubic and sweet knowing now what he was capable of. From the other side of the bed, Alucard twisted off the nitrous oxide and resumed his leaned-over position, studying the sleeping face with a small smile. The boy stirred, but did not wake yet. The trio of hunters looked on, each studying in their own way for some time. Eventually Alucard reached out and caressed the side of the boy's face, tracing facial features with a knowing look that told the other two all was exactly as he remembered it.
“You are the purest form of cruelty or a miracle, Trevor.” The Dhampyre whispered. “Whichever does not matter to me.”
After a few more minutes Julius gave her sleeve the slightest tug and motioned her to follow him back to the chairs. As she slipped back down into the vinyl cushioning the boy gradually stirred awake, staring about the room's bright lights with that same confusion and sleepy disorientation he had the morning before. When cobalt eyes found the familiar shape that was Alucard, he tried to reach out, only to be stopped by his restraint. The brunettes tested all the straps with a growing look of distress that didn't fade when Alucard reached out to press him gently back into the mattress.
“Do not panic, Trevor. This had to be done to keep you from hurting anyone. You were getting rather violent, and this is a place of convalescence, remember?” The Dhampyre, against what Yoko would deem better judgment, released the hand closest to him from it's bindings. “How is your head?”
“You are bleeding.” The brunette stated in a bit of a fog, reaching out to lay his hand over the drying stain on Alucard's shirt.
“That is because you stabbed me.” The Dhampyre joked in a gentle non-accusatory voice. “It has been bandaged.”
“I... I didn't mean to stab you.” The boy weakly tried to explain. “Well, I mean I didn't actually want to stab you. I was thinking about how angry I was, and how satisfying it would be to do it... But I didn't mean to actually do it. Does it hurt?”
“It hurts as much as a stabbing does, and no more.” Alucard continued in that light non-accusatory tone. “You missed anything vital to my continued existence, so you truly must not have meant to do it.”
The boy smiled back with a sheepish sigh, and reached higher to touch the Dhampyre's face. “I can barely see you, come closer. What is that on your face?”
“Another bandage.” The Dhampyre replied, leaning slightly closer. “You punched me in the face. Broke my nose in two places. In the long life I have lived, I have never had a broken nose or two black eyes before now.”
“I wish I could remember doing this.” The boy laughed bittersweetly. “If I could recall the act, perhaps I wouldn't want so strongly to punch you in the face again... I will try to not fantasize about doing it, lest we have a repeat of the stabbing.”
“You're too kind, Trevor Belmont.”
“Does that still hurt too?”
“This hurts only my pride, and my vanity.” The Dhampyre answered with a playful grin. “You know how I am when it comes to vanity.”
“Are you still walking around with a pocket mirror?” The boy inquired in matching playfulness. His laughter when Alucard pulled out a small ornate mirror from his coat pocket was musical.
“It doesn't work so well for me these days, I'm afraid. Every time I open it I see this red demon instead of my reflection. Here, you try.” The Dhampyre clicked open the mirror and pointed it at the partially restrained boy.
The boy half-squealed with terror and delight, clamping his eyes shut. “Put it away!” He laughed, shoving the offered mirror as far away as he could reach. “You know I hate Paranoia demons.”
The Dhampyre obliged with a playful shrug, clicking shut the mirror and pocketing it with a flourishing move. “Would you like to sit up? I'm too old to be craning my neck like this.” When the boy nodded Alucard lowered the guard rail closest to him and raised the upper half of the bed. Now that they were more or less face to face, the Dhampyre took a seat on the edge. “You never answered me. How is your head? How are your aches and pains? You said everything hurt.”
“Nothing really hurts right now. I feel fog-headed. When I woke up there were these things inside me and people all around me. I just wanted to get away and figure out what was happening. I don't remember much after Isaac stabbed me. I was in the middle of telling your friend about that... Yoko. Where is she?”
“She had an errand to run. She'll be back.”
“When will she be back? I like her. She was nice and she was pretty.”
“How do you know what she looks like? You can't see anything.”
“She held me to her bosom, that's how. She had a nice shape. A woman doesn't feel that way unless she looks good too.” The brunette teased, and Yoko had to clamp both her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
“I will punch you in the face.” The jealous Dhampyre snapped. “The doctor gave you something to calm you down. I am going to write this off as a side effect.”
“I was just being honest. Don't ask me a question if you don't want to hear the answer to it.”
“Tell me what you were telling Yoko. We are trying to figure out how you got to where we found you.” The Dhampyre's playfulness faded out to stony seriousness... After one last barb. “Can you do that without a large pair of breasts to cuddle?” Well, now Yoko knew Alucard had at least at one point in time, considered her cup-size.
“It would be easier with them, but sure.” The brunette surrendered. “The Castle never vanished after we defeated Dracula. I was under the impression it would, that your father was it's anchor in this world. The disease of crops and minds of the people closest to the Castle also never abated. I thought things would get better with time, but they never did. So I left one morning and set out to see if I could figure out why. What I discovered was your father's mad general Isaac running wild with dreams of resurrecting the old Count. Feeding the essence of Dracula enough malice that his hold over the Castle and the land kept it in place. I suppose I must confess that our victory over Dracula left me a little... Over-confident of myself. I played right into Isaac's hand and he nearly killed me. He used my blood to open up the path to the heart of the Castle, and your father's other general Hector was the only one there who could stop him. If Hector fails, who knows what can happen. Dracula may be revived.”
“The Castle is no longer in this world, Trevor.” Alucard soothed in a very guarded manner. Saying no more than strictly required.
“Then... Hector stopped Isaac.” The brunette sounded relieved. “I thought I had really fucked this one up.”
“You almost died... What do you recall after?”
“I... was cold. I tried to keep pressure on my wound but it was impossible. A witch named Julia found me and helped me back to her hut at the base of the Baljhet Mountains and probably saved my life. Her home was warm... Almost too warm. There was an argument... Several I believe. Raucous commotion. And then it wasn't warm anymore, and something was hurting me. Over and over... It never stopped and I just forced myself to stop counting the hours and days or I knew I would go mad. Until it did stop. And then I woke up in this strange place surrounded by strange people, and you of all people are here. I never thought I would see you again.”
“Trevor...” Alucard's features were an open wound. It pained him to keep asking, but they had to know all the facts they could. “How many hours and days did you count before you stopped?”
“Almost a year. A year of freezing in the dark, having my body violated with steel. That's as long as I could bear to count.” Tears suddenly welled up in the boy's eyes. “Sypha stayed with me after we made it back to Wallachia.” He confessed. “When you never came back, I... I did have feelings for her too. It turned out she felt the same way.”
“It's all right. I know that.”
“We're having a baby. I mean, she must have given birth by now. All alone. I missed the birth of my fourth child, haven't I?”
“You... You had a girl. Two of them. They were twins.” Alucard divulged, his own voice heavy with hurt. “It seems you can only have children in pairs. Their elder brothers adore them, and Sypha and the girls were healthy both before and after. They look like your mother, I thought, but perhaps all little blonde girls remind me of Sonia.”
“You've seen them?” The boy choked back a sob. “You've seen them and I haven't. My own babies have never been held by their father. Fucking Isaac. If I wasn't so sure he was dead I'd kill him slowly.” The boy wept a little more and then forced himself into a calmer state. “You saw them... That means you came back. I guess it was a little too late, hmm? If you had even just sent a letter...”
“I am Moroi. Time is not the same for me as it is mortals. I honestly never realized the length of time that had passed had passed until it was too late. Without you by my side to keep track of it by your waking and sleeping, it all seemed like one long night to me. We... We don't have to talk about this now. I am still trying to puzzle out how you could get to these lands from the Baljhet Mountains in less than a years length of time. Could you see well enough to look at a map?”
“If you put it right under my nose, yes.” The boy replied glumly. Alucard left the boy's side to fish out of his bag a tablet. He played around with it and handed it over the moment he slipped back into a place, one arm curling naturally around the brunette's waist. The boy allowed the mindless touch, almost welcoming the slow caress of soothing fingers, as he looked quizzically at the strange black rectangle in his free hand. “This is your map? They're a little firmer and heavier than I am used to.”
“It holds a lot of information just like your families Bestiary. Only it does so in a smaller package. Look here. This is Romania. Wallachia. There is Moldavia. Far over here is France and England. Before you ask, yes, the map moves, that's how it all fit in a tiny space, Trevor. Here's Wales. I know a guy from there.”
The brunette made a disgusted sound. “The Welsh. A bunch of bearded unwashed sheep fuckers.” This outburst made Alucard snort.
“His coat is quite unwashed. I will have to look into the sheep fucking, though I wouldn't put it past him. The man tries every once.” The Dhampyre shook his head and focused. “This is where you last recall being. Where I found you was in a cavern in the Aokigahara Jukai. It is a dense forest at the base of Mount Fuji in Japan.”
“I have never heard of these places.”
“I imagine not...” Alucard redirected the boy's focus to the tablet. “This over here is Japan.”
“This... is an island. It's so far away from Wallachia... How will I get back?”
“How did you get here is the question.”
“My children will grow up without ever knowing their father. I'll be a stranger to my daughters.”
“You have no recollection of travelling here? Whether against your will or not?”
“No. Nothing at all comes to mind. I was just cold and cut up in the dark for as long as I could bear to count. I never saw daylight or fresh air...”
“Really...”
“The Castle. It has to be the Castle. It moves, doesn't it? You said it can travel through space and time. Was it here? In this Japan? Is that why you are here?”
Alucard made a pensive noise, debating how best to answer. “The Castle was here.”
“Then that must be how. Julia's house was at the base of the mountains, still withing the scope of Dracula's Castle. When it moved, her house must have been caught up in the swell of magick.”
“The Castle was here a year ago. It was sent back to the Veil where it belongs. I was in the Castle a year ago along with my fellow hunters. We combed it's halls back then... No one saw you there. Furthermore, you were found in the forest only a few days ago. Yes, the Castle can move through time and space, but it must always be somewhere, and it can only move to a place in time it is not currently inhabiting. But wait...” The Dhampyre raised a finger to tap against his lips thoughtfully. “If you recall being tortured for the better part of a year.. Perhaps you were removed from the Castle before we arrived. The cold and dark you remember was that cavern. Perhaps?”
“I feel sick...” The boy whispered, but Alucard seemed not to hear him.
“But the Castle's anchor was destroyed back in the War of Ninety-Nine. These last appearances were mere flukes. You couldn't have been swept up into the Veil with the Castle in the fifteenth century and dropped off here, only for the Castle to continue hopping through eras under my father's will. He still had it anchored to him when it would have took you with it. If you had been in the Castle then, with all the years it jumped and stayed in place, you'd be an old man, Trevor. A very old man. Even accounting for the distorting time fields within the Castle.”
“Do you know how to get home from here? I want to go home.” The plea was barely more than a whisper. “It's so far away... Do you think my children are all right without me? I keep leaving them to chase danger, it's terribly unfair for them to be so young yet always be so worried.”
This forlorn plea managed to catch the Dhampyre's attention, and he kicked off his shoes to climb into the bed and better cradle the boy in his arms. “Home is a long way from here. It would take some time to arrange travel, but I could take you there eventually if you like. There are things here I must do first though. I'm not sure how, but the dangerous woman I am hunting might have had something to do with why you are here, and until she is caught and others are protected from her, I must stay on the hunt. You understand, don't you?”
The brunette curled into the Dhampyre and looked up at him. “You never returned to me because you were protecting people from devilspawn? You must have known, I would have helped you if you had just asked me to. I told you we could live anywhere you wanted to be and do anything you desired to do. It didn't matter to me... So long as you kept your promise.”
“I couldn't keep that promise.”
“Maybe you could have, even if only a half-promise. But you never even tried... Maybe all I wanted was for you to try. I waited a long time for you.”
“I know you did...”
“I missed you for a long time too.”
“I know you did...”
“Then you know I won't allow myself to be as cruel to Sypha as you've been to me. No matter what my heart is telling me. She was there and you were not. She is the mother of my little girls... I cannot betray her for you.”
“Of course not. She was my friend too. She did enough mothering on our journey to prove she would make a capable one... You chose well.”
The brunette gave the slightest nod of his head before quickly averting his eyes. “But if you had just sent a letter. Sent word on a traveller's lips. Hell, even if a bat had flown through my window in the dead of night... I would have...”
“It's all right, Trevor. What has passed is past.”
“...I think I may have chosen differently.” The brunette lamented. “I am terrible and cruel to her after all. To so easily wish to trade the lives I have helped create with her in order to escape the guilt of still loving you. She deserves so much more than this.” Those tears the boy had successfully forced away from earlier made their return without any sound, falling freely as they came. “How can I be so happy and sad at the same time? I'm so exhausted, Adrian... If I close my eyes will you stay here with me?”
“Of course I will. You've been through a lot and have a lot more to go through still... Sleep while you can. We can talk more when you are able to.” Alucard's permission still echoed off the walls of the room when the injured boy fell back into a deep sleep. The Dhampyre curled tighter around him still, and nuzzled into his chestnut hair. “Nothing is ever easy for you, is it, my love?”
Yoko traded a sad look with Julius. It was rather heartbreaking. Whether the boy was really Trevor Belmont or not didn't change the fact that the emotions slung around the room were real. Stolen memories of love and heartbreak and broken promises still had to stem from something real. She watched Alucard stroke the boy's hair until he slowed and stopped, Dhampyre seeming to fall asleep alongside the one he held. Why shouldn't he? The poor creature, Moroi or not, had to be equally exhausted and nerves worn raw by this as well. Reluctant to awaken Alucard from his much deserved rest, she turned back towards Julius and whispered instead. “So what do you think?”
“He is very convincing.” Julius repeated in a hush.
“He seems to be a completely different person every time he wakes up.” Yoko added. “Scared and violent, angry and violent, sad and sweet with a touch of violent... I am afraid of what he will be like the next time he opens his eyes.”
“Probably something and violent. The threatening behaviour seems to be an underlying constant.”
“I know Alucard said he would believe what this guy said no matter what, but I really do think he might be correct. There is nothing fake about this Trevor Belmont that I can discern, and he seems to know far too much for a doppelganger. Even a well made one.”
“As I said, he is very convincing. The wounds on him are real. Where we found him is real. He was the prized sacrifice in that ritual. How he managed to get here from the fifteenth century via the Castle is plausible, even if there are some logistical kinks to work around. Trevor Christopher Belmont was hailed as a hero for returning honour to our family name. He had a deceased wife and child, and was survived by twin boys. He vanished three years after defeating Dracula. There was no mention of him shacking up and having baby girls with his companion Sypha Belnades, but if they were bastard children he had with a sorceress no less, I can imagine why the Church records would have left that out. His mother, Sonia Belmont, died young. She was a hunter disgraced for being a woman in a man's profession and for having a bastard son. If you see the trend here.”
“I do. People suck? Is it people suck that is the trend?”
“It actually is, Yoko. Anyway, these are the hard facts I know about my ancestor Trevor. It's not much, but he seems to fit those facts.”
“So how do we proceed? With him, I mean. He's a little in and out of it, but maybe he will remember something more concerning our witch lady? It sounds like he recalls being cut up by her. Or someone like her.”
“I intend to proceed – cautiously, mind you - under the notion that he is who he says he is, until he proves he is or is not with certainty. Right now, it seems like we have a little time traveller in our midst, and he's had a rough time of it. I may be single minded about my job but I'm not a complete brute. I say we let him rest up, see what he remembers and not push him too much this early on. He very well may just be a man about to learn his family has been dead for six centuries.”
“Oh shit, that's... That's right.” Yoko realized with a sympathetic tug on her heartstrings.
Together Hunter and Sorceress leaned back into their chairs and watched the sleeping pair coiled lovingly around each other. It seemed their shared dreams were happy ones, and Yoko was kind of glad for a little while anyway, things wouldn't be so painful for her old and new friend.
“I don't envy Alucard.” Julius intoned. “I can't imagine how hard it's going to be to break that news.”
“I can't imagine how hard it is going to be being the person who must breaks that news.” Yoko agreed. Feeling helpless, she did the only things she could do to ease Alucard's coming burden.
She forgave him.
Notes:
My deepest apologies for any Welsh readers. I simply needed a believable prejudice a Frenchman from the 15th century would have. I know you bathe regularly.
Chapter 16: Of Monsters and Men
Chapter Text
November 1476 ~ Camilla's Cemetery
Just beyond the walls of the crumbling mausoleum the Mage and Dhampyre took shelter in roamed a sizable army of kagitsume, their massive taloned fingers scraping the stone pathway or swiping furiously at long faded grave markers in the throes of their tantrums. Putrid hands pushing through the loamy soil to grasp desperately at anything were also easy targets for the raging clawed beasts, as they searched for the two morsels of meat that had barely escaped their charge.
Shivering uncontrollably, even going so far as to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep the noise of her chattering teeth to a minimum, Sypha pressed into his one armed embrace beneath his heavy cloak, desperate herself not to die in a stranger's grave. Those rotting hands and arms clawing free of their resting places proved their danger, having tripped up the Mage at the worst possible moment. It was by luck alone that the very weight of so many kagitsume converging on her fallen form shattered the ice coating the pond she was crossing, but there had been a price to pay for her life. She had been forced to abandon her cloak lest the wet weight of it drown her, and now the poor girl had nothing but her soaking priest robe to protect her from a Wallachian winter.
The mausoleum made for a poor shelter, the wind and bluster of snow finding it's way inside from the numerous cracks in it's foundation. Alucard knew how long it took for a human to freeze to their death in the dead of winter. A century ago when he had been a veritable night stalker, the harshness of winter had been his greatest ally. All it took was a scare to send his prey fleeing into the dark and frigid nights, a few more minutes for winter to disorient, and only a handful more to incapacitate. Such ease had once always curled his lips wickedly, now the thought of how easy it would be to lose this girl to that same night terrified him. Kagitsume could not hunt by scent or sound. Their way was visual, which proved problematic given the only solution he could come up with to keep Sypha alive was to dry her. The only way he could do that was with Hellfire, which surely would light up the murk of the mausoleum. There was no time to find an alternative.
He unhooked his cloak and did his best to wrap it around her. “Try to hide the light.” He whispered. Kagitsume had terrible hearing, but they were not deaf by any stretch. Though she trembled fiercely, Sypha tried her best to keep the illumination trapped inside the cloak as Alucard used just enough power to set his palms alight in a thin blaze. Starting from head and working his way to toe, he worked to evaporate the water as quickly as possible. When finished, the girl still shivered and was far from out of the woods, but she was no longer in peril of expiring in the next handful of minutes. Alucard pulled the diminutive Mage into his embrace, hoping to generate enough heat between them to warm her as the chill had gone right to her bones, and peered out a crack in the brick. “This is not looking very promising.”
“Did you see where Grant or Trevor went?” The Mage's breath hitched when he shook his head solemnly. “They must have had the same idea as us.” She tried to sound certain, but the words felt hollow.
“I am certain they did.” He assured her anyway. “These demons wouldn't be so pissed off if they had caught any one of us.”
“Alucard...” Sypha whispered, near tears. “We haven't rest in two days and after that fall... I have nothing left. I tried to conjure the smallest of flames to keep me warm and I can't even make a spark. You must promise me you will find Trevor.”
It was obvious what the Mage was truly asking, but he would have none of it. “I promise we will find Trevor together. Do not count yourself out of the fight yet, my friend.”
“I have not.” She admitted with grim determination. “But do not risk yourself for me. There is no choice between that Belmont and myself. Understand?”
“That Belmont told me to guard his valuable medicine making Mage. He only has one of you, and you are very important to him.” Alucard whispered back, managing to make the hushed tone sound fierce. “What is beyond these walls is not enough to stop the son of Dracula. Do you understand?”
To his surprise the Mage simply nodded. “How I envy that Vampyric stamina of yours.” Was all she said before falling quiet and following his lead.
The path he chose had them crawling out the back split of stone and behind the rubble of an even larger mausoleum, long since caved in. They swatted at ghoulish hands as silently as possible, ears tuned to the frustrated howls of kagitsume so as to better judge their location, which still didn't keep the duo from nearly blundering into a break off group of the clawed demons as their focus had been on the known threat. At the last possible second before they were discovered, Alucard grabbed hold of the Mage and rolled them into the cracked opening of a crypt. With mild annoyance he snapped the necks of the reanimated bone and seeping flesh creatures that waited them, killing with his bare hands to both minimize the noise and to not have his fire draw any unwanted attention.
“Is asking if you know where you are going something I want to do?” The Mage wondered out loud.
The Dhampyre gave her a wry look in return. “My mother has family buried in this cemetery. I know plenty of it's secret pathways as I used to play here. It no longer stands, but at one time there was a groundskeeper barracks in the centre. All these underground tunnels were built to transport digging equipment, and dig down layers to add to family crypts.”
“So you know where you are going... But how will we find our friends if they are above and we below?”
Once more the Dhampyre flashed the Mage a grin. “We know where we were heading before we were separated. Trevor and I have been picking places on the map for each new area we traverse where we would wait for the other if our party was separated. I am taking you to the last chosen spot.”
“Why is this the first time I am hearing about this?” The Mage huffed. “This seems like the kind of thing you should have informed all of us.”
“Well now that you say it... Yes it probably would have been wise. To be fair, it wasn't something we'd ever thought would come in use. It was just part of killing time in the morning while you two slept.” The Dhampyre shrugged a shoulder and motioned the girl to follow. There was nowhere in the narrow corridors for any waiting undead to surprise them, so he lead them swiftly through the groundskeeper tunnels in hopes of making up for the lost time spent shivering in a mausoleum.
“You and Trevor sure do talk a lot while we are sleeping. I have seen you sneak outside our camps with him, and I do wonder what you two are getting up to that you need such privacy.” Sypha murmured after some time. “You are awake while he is, you sleep while he does. Everywhere he goes you are not far behind. You have become his shadow.”
The Dhampyre slowed his pace for a few steps and then stopped. “Sypha...” He started, unsure how to word his response. “I promised to lead you all to my father's doorstep which cannot be done if you are dead. If you want to question me about my affection for our dear Hunter, could you please wait until I have successfully saved your life?”
The Mage's shoulders shook with a silent laughter. “You have just answered me. Lead on, I will follow. Just tell me how long have you been chasing him, and if he's let himself be caught.”
Turning back to the dim pathway, Dhampyre shook his head. Feet carrying him briskly, he contemplated the Mage's question. “No one is being chased.” He replied rather tersely. “It is a meeting of minds.”
“Just minds? He stares at you when you are not looking, you know.”
Does he? It was certainly news to him, and pleasing news at that, but also very distracting news at a time when distractions should be kept to a bare minimum. “Girl, you just about died a scant hour ago. Are you really sure this is what you want to focus on given what we just went through? There's still an army of those demons above us, and these pathways don't lead us all the way to Aljiba. We are going back up there to face them.”
“I was just wondering... In case I have to ask you to take care of him in my stead. You know he can't be trusted not to work himself into the ground. If I don't make it out of this cemetery, you would make sure he ate and slept and kept warm, yes? You would keep our valuable and only holy weapon wielding Hunter safe?”
About to roll his eyes at the Mage's out of character defeatism, the Dhampyre turned abruptly back. So suddenly the scent of fear and anguish wafted off the small girl, clouding all his other senses. She truly feared she had nothing left to fight with. When the tunnels ran out and the pair would be forced to ascend back into the danger, the Mage truly feared the grounds above would be her final resting place. All this inappropriate prying of hers stemmed from that fear that she was leaving the Hunter without being able to see his journey through, and she wanted desperately to be assured someone would. Arms opening he welcomed her back into his embrace, soothing her hitched sobs. “You are going to help me keep him safe. Your medicine and arcane arts have gotten us out of too many binds to count. We are not abandoning you to the hoards just because you can't give any more at this point in time. Just stay as close to me as you can. I will get you to Trevor, and then we will all be fine. Say it, Sypha. Say we are going to be all right.”
The girl mustered enough control to stem her tears and repeated after him. “I don't know why I am so emotional.” She laughed weakly. “This is not like me at all.”
“You've been awake for nearly three days battling the night hoards.” He reminded her. “We're all starting to lose it. Wipe your nose and come along.”
As anticipated, the tunnels lead out into the brisk night air far sooner than the duo were prepared for, and straight into a roaming pair of kagitsume. The shrieks they let out into the open air as they charged were certain to alert more of them in no time at all. Opting to quickly dispatch them even though his flames would be a beacon in dark, he called Hellfire to do his bidding as he kept himself between Sypha and the clawed demons. Pulling the Mage along over the smoking corpses they agreed diving into the next partially collapsed mausoleum was better than being in the open where the unfortunate but necessary signal fire had been lit. Pinned down once more, so close to the cemetery gates yet so far, Mage and Dhampyre fell into apprehensive silence. Wordlessly they scooted back into the protection of shadows and looked out at the hulking shapes scratching about in the darkness.
Pointed Dhampyre ears twitched at the first stirring of familiar noises within the mausoleum. Not wanting to panic the Mage, he searched out the source with the aid of his superior night vision. Shushing the nervous Mage, he left her side to dig deeper into the burial hall. What was waiting to be found was a bewitching fold in space, invisible to all but most perceptive of supernatural beings. Or Dhampyre children who had stumbled across such a place nearly two centuries ago. Take your pick. Knowing full well his power was far from what it had once been, attempting to persuade the little creatures he found beyond the veil was still worth a try. When clustered the fae were like a hive mind. If he could just get one to fall under his spell, he'd have them all in short order. Ever so gently he reached through the fold in reality and beckoned in the long forgotten language of the fae. “Will you help one who remembers you, little ones?”
Tiny humanoids flitted about warily, cautiously eyeing their intruder. Under the weight of his grossly diminished Will, one gossamer winged beauty did succumb at last, coming to rest on his fingertips.
“I do not wish you to hurt yourselves. Be quick and be safe.” He whispered to the fae in his palm, the others peeking out from behind the folded reality.
Sypha gasped and then clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the noise when he returned. “A faerie.” She said with open wonder. “A swarm of faeries...”
“They are going to provide us with a distraction.” He explained quickly and quietly. “When they swarm out that way, we will make a run for the gate. The kagitsume will follow the twinkling lights. They love to eat faeries.” The turning back to the fragile creature smiling up at him, he urged her to take flight. “Fly true, my darlings. Don't get caught.”
“This feels wrong.” Sypha whispered. “To use them like this.”
“It's too late to change plans.” Alucard replied, watching the trail of faerie dust fall to the the cold ground. “Run, Sypha. This is our only chance until morning.”
Run they did. Stumbling here and there as those blasted bloated hands poked through the dirt at the most inopportune times, but never stopping. Not once they passed the gates, and not even when they entered the edge of the East Aljiba Woods. The exhilaration of having escaped Camilla's Cemetery carried them far into the dense foliage before Alucard and Sypha jointly realized something was running alongside the same wall of trees as they were. Closing rank, Mage and Dhampyre prepared themselves for the oncoming ambush. Alucard took point, rounding the large tree to his side and tackling the shape that managed to flip their positions with frustrating ease.
Trevor Belmont had pinned him. Who else could have?
The Hunter stared in shock down at him for a beat or two before scrambling off him to pull the Dhampyre to his feet. Once he was standing, the smaller man made a gentler leap into his embrace, the Dhampyre being the only thing keeping the Hunter on his feet. “I knew you'd make it out of there. I wasn't worried one whit. Don't listen to anything Grant says, he's being melodramatic.”
'He was in a panic' Grant mouthed silently. 'A huge one.” He spread his arms wide for emphasis on just how huge the panic Trevor had adamantly not been in, was. Which turned out to be good timing, as he was prepared to catch Sypha when she collapsed from exhaustion. “Easy now, Sypha. It's been a rough... however many days it's been but we're not safe yet.” The Rogue soothed. “Where's your cloak?”
“I went for a swim.” The Mage replied, near tears once more. “And I am irrationally emotional right now. I was so worried about you two... How did you get out of there?”
Still clinging to his person, Trevor answered the Mage's inquiry with a relieved laugh. “We almost didn't. We were surrounded and about to be found out when this swarm of faeries cut through the night sky and all those talon freaks took off after them. They must really love faeries or shimmering lights, and I don't care which. How did you?”
“Same thing.” Sypha sighed. “Pretty little faeries saved the day. Some friends of Alucard's.”
“Oh?” The Hunter lifted his head from his chest to look up at the Dhampyre.
He smiled affectionately and proceeded to run his hands up and down the Hunter's back, beyond relieved to have the steel eyed beauty back in his arms. “They find me very attractive, I'll have you know.”
The Hunter quirked a brow and shook his head before leaning in to give the Dhampyre one last squeeze. When he let go, it was done wearing a look heavy with reluctance, but as Grant had stated earlier, they were not safe here. He turned to face his other human companions and pulled the Mage into his arms, taming her wild wind blown curls with his hands before cupping her face. She blushed furiously after he kissed the crown of her hair affectionately. “If this is how you feel every time I do something stupid, I must apologize. It's a terrible feeling.”
“You cannot help being an idiot, Trevor Belmont.” The Mage sniffed. “You must have onions in your bag or something, because I cannot stop weeping.”
“I saw a shack up this way. I didn't get the best look at it but it's a start?” Grant suggested and Trevor motioned him to lead on.
Further up the road and nestled into the woods was a long abandoned flower shop. It had probably been rather profitable being so conveniently located next to the place families would go to pay their respects. Pots and garden beds were strewn about haphazardly now, buried under snow, stray tools poking through the powder here and there. The door to the shop was frozen ajar, but it was nothing a little digging and some elbow grease couldn't overcome. With nowhere better to be and days since their last rest, the party filed in and insulated the dwelling as best they could. There was no energy left to prepare a fire even if it had been safe to do so, so Sypha was given the lone bed with as many blankets as they could find to help with her terrible bone chill, and the rest of them spread out on the thick rug bedside.
Alucard chose to sit against the log wall, keeping watch over the Mage and out the windows. To his surprise given the audience, Trevor spared no time collapsing next to him, blankets and all, falling asleep the moment he lay his head on Alucard's shoulder. Figuring that sleeping in such a position was going to give the Hunter a kink in his neck, he laid the young man down in his lap, too tired to remember not to stroke his hair in front of the other humans.
“There is room for you both.” He offered, when he noticed how cold the Rogue looked in his bedroll. “I believe the term is, it's a three dog night.” The Rogue didn't even attempt to protest, more than happy to collapse next to the Hunter and share what little heat they could muster.
This left Alucard with a full lap and the calming sounds of human sleep, though he was anything but calm. Their next destination was the fallen city of Aljiba. A place where his father had directed him to lead a night hoard in the days after his mother's burning. In the days where he had shared his father thirst for vengeance... Where he had truly been the Scion of Dracula.
*****
November 1476 ~ The Ruins of Aljiba City
The Rogue whistled loudly, taken aback by the complete and utter destruction of such a once vast city. Nature had long since encroached on the embers and rubble left in the wake of the heir to Vlad Dracula Țepeș and his commanded army of hellspawn. Alucard could still feel the heat of Hellfire he'd brought into being climbing the walls, slithering under windows and doors on the prowl for living things to choke free of life like only unnatural fire could. The only sounds being the crackle of his demonic flames and the beating of thousands of his demon brethren wings. When the fires stole the very air out of their lungs, humans could not scream, no matter how terrified or tortured they were. There had been no mercy in this culling, no quite the opposite. He'd delighted in their agonizing ends, drawing each out and then stomping their charred remains into ashes under his boots at every opportunity. These maggots, or others just like them - it had no longer mattered - had taken from him what he loved. He was owed their lives as retribution, and he had taken them. All of them. And those he could not get too... The ones who terror had taken to the Church as if some holy beacon was going to stop his rage... He had spent all the night sitting outside that mocking building stoking his anger high enough to scorch the bell tower.
Come morning, long after his brethren had flee the burn of oncoming daylight, he'd sat quietly before a structure equally as still. There were no survivors.
“You did all this?” Grant ventured apprehensively.
There was no point in denying it. He had already admitted to such an atrocity before. “With my father's army I razed this city to the ground, yes. All but that building.” He made a slight gesture with his head towards the sole standing Church, white marble walls still scorched black.
“Alucard...” Sypha started but faltered. “I can't believe... I mean... There is nothing left.”
“I am not proud of this. I may have been at the time I committed the act, but this is as reprehensible to me as it is to you now. I will of course understand if you no longer wish to maintain the camaraderie we have built up. Now that you have seen what I am capable of.”
“I think we just need a minute to process all of this.” Grant offered. “I can't imagine the Dhampyre I know could do this kind of damage.”
“I do intend to help you stop my father's madness. I will do so without your friendship if you can no longer offer it.”
“Just be silent for a moment, Alucard.” Sypha begged. “I cannot believe the man I have shared so many laughs with has done this thing. The man who protects and encourages me, and who I have come to trust. You must be a changed man but still... Look at this place. How in so much time is there nothing here but rubble and creeping vines? It is so devastated a landscape, it is not even haunted by the regrets of the dead. You burned up even that.”
He fell silent immediately, ashamed to feel so wounded by their disgust with him when they had every right to be. With a swarm of demons at his backside acting on the behest of his father, he'd ended the lives of over ten thousand people. Ten thousand people who had nothing to do with the lynching and burning of his poor departed mother, chosen only because they were no numerous and so close. A perfect example, Dracula had declared the siege, praising his son's ruthlessness. A promise of what was to come. This place was so devoid of life not even the carrion remained.
“Give them a moment.” Trevor whispered, coming up to his side. The Hunter looped an arm around his and lead him down the remains of what had once been Aljiba's main street. Strolling like this, arm in arm in the blackened landscape was absurd, but Alucard was thankful there was someone still willing to look at him. “That this hurts you is important. If you were still a devil it would just be what you did yesterday.”
“My guilt is meaningless. I cannot be redeemed. Not for what I did here.”
The Hunter continued to pull him along, gently strolling through the forest reclaimed devastation almost as if to force the Dhampyre to take it all in. “You should suffer for it. To die for this crime would be too easy, and there is not enough blood in your veins to pay for the blood you have spilled. If our friends grow to hate you, you will weather it because it is part of your penance for all of this. But if it will make it easier to pay back your debts... Know that I believe you are not the same monster that did this. Not anymore. I will still call you my friend.”
Grateful, Alucard found the Hunter's hand and squeezed, bringing it up to his lips to plant them ever so lightly against the pale flesh. “You must have been a divine conception. The heavens yawned open and your human God reached down to bless your mother with you.”
“I like that story better than the one I came up with.” Trevor smiled. “I'd always assumed she had too much wine one night and took the town drunk to her bedchambers. She never told anyone who my father was out of embarrassment.”
“You are trying to cheer me up.” The Dhampyre realized, with a grateful smile.
“Is it working? I mean, she had to have slept with someone really embarrassing if letting the rumours that she was bedding a demon were the better alternative. I bet he wasn't only the town drunk, but the town fool as well. Probably had one of those unsightly birth defects too. Oh! That would explain my feet.”
“Trevor Belmont... If all I have is you in this world, I could be happy with that.” He said earnestly, and the Hunter actually blushed. “Shall we go to the Church? It may be better if you check the state of it's interior before our mortified companions do. There may or may not be a horror show on the inside.”
The Hunter's smile turned into a grim straight line. He spoke as he walked towards the blackened structure ahead. “What did you do there? I thought you said you couldn't get inside.”
“I could not.” Came his reply after some time, reluctant as he was to elaborate. “So I burned the air around the Church the whole of the night so as to choked the people on the inside.” He confessed in a rush, adding, “They kept me out, so I kept out their air. It seemed a fair trade at the time.”
“Adrian...” The Hunter faltered. Nakedly displayed in cobalt blue eyes was the Hunter's struggle to maintain his composure. Flashes of anger warred with flashes of deep sadness, joined by ranks of disbelief. When he finally spoke, his tone was measured and void of any affect. “You have a lot to reconcile with. If we defeat - when, I mean – we defeat your father, perhaps you should think about how best to repay your mother's people for the crimes you have committed against them. You must have something to offer those from whom you have taken so much.”
“I-I will put some thought into that subject...” The Dhampyre jumped to respond, terrified of what could possibly be going through the Hunter's mind. “I have my mother's knowledge of medicine and my father's of machinery. I know how to kill my own kind, though I feel giving away such knowledge would betray that part of my heritage. My kind deserve their right to live too.”
The Hunter held up a hand to stop his rambling. “I didn't say you had to figure it out right this second, Adrian. Just keep it in the back of your mind until we do what needs to be done. It's not like you won't have the time afterwards. You're immortal.”
Those words struck him in a painful way. It was true that his life was eternal, yet the Hunter's was not. If all he would have in the world was Trevor Belmont, then one day all he would have would be the memory of this blue eyed brunette who managed to bring light into his darkness and reason to his chaos. Trevor Belmont's virtues would be all that remained. “What would make you proud of me? After all this is said and done and life must move forward? You would want to return to your children... But you will always be a hunter, and there will always be demons. What if... I wanted to repay part of my debt by keeping your family safe?”
The Hunter stalled mid-step and turned around to face him. “I can protect my family just fine. That is why I am on this death march.”
The Dhampyre hugged his chest, unsure how best to explain, afraid he would provoke the only person still willing to be in his presence further. “I don't mean to imply that you cannot. They are your children, and you will keep them safe... I just...” He struggled to find the right words, but decided to keep it as simple as he could. “What if I wanted to keep you safe? So that you could keep protecting others? That would be doing good by proxy?”
“You want to be my bodyguard?” Trevor asked incredulously.
“Am I not preforming as such right now?” He wondered out loud. “I am your guide, but more than that I will perish gladly if it means seeing you to victory.”
The Hunter fixed him with an unreadable look. “You are not my bodyguard. We are brothers-in-arms. How many times have I risked my life for you?”
“As many as I have for you, though I wish you would not. Perhaps I cannot explain so well because these are feelings I have no experience with? I just can't bear the thought of someone like you getting hurt. If there was anything I could do to prevent that I would do it.”
The Hunter reached out and gave his shoulder a short squeeze before turning back towards the Church. “The sentiment is very sweet... But it is my duty as a father to protect my own. What kind of man would I be if I passed that duty onto the shoulders of another?”
“I don't think you understand... I don't want your duty, Trevor.” He tried again, trailing after the smaller man. “I want my own.”
“Are these barred from the inside?” The Hunter asked suddenly, evidently having missed the last comment Alucard had spoken to him. He stood before the great charred remains of the Church's entry, testing the carved wood for any give. “It would make sense if they were, what with the demon razing going on outside. Maybe it just needs a little more force. Want to give me a hand?”
“If only I could, I would. I cannot touch this place, you know that. I am Moroi.”
The Hunter threw up his hands and continued to push and pull at ebony wood, eventually finding a weather-rotted char of board that broke away. It was a tight fit, requiring the Hunter to strip himself of everything but his trousers and worn shirt to slide through, but in no time at all the great beams securing the door frame could be heard clattering with finality on the marble floor inside. Then there was quiet for a long span of time. A quiet long enough that once more the calm the morn after his massacre was brought to Alucard's mind. When the doors creaked ever so slowly open, the sound startled the waiting Dhampyre. Standing stock still and grim was Trevor. He pointed into the dark chasm of the Church at the piles of pristine ivory bones poking out of papery dry skin and preserved faded attire. Hundreds of people must have been huddled in that pile, their final moments spent praying together for a reprise from the death he condemned them to. Now frozen as they were, untouched by anything but time, they seemed to be both supplicating themselves to the tallest cross he'd ever laid eyes on, as well as accusing him of deeds he could never deny.
How dare he return here? How dare he stand before the husks of these lives he'd taken, still breathing the air he'd denied them all? He'd done it in her name, but his own mother would have cast him aside for this. Yet this was what his father had wanted then and still now to this day. His father needed them all to suffer as the Count always was. All at once the very turmoil he battled within himself came to the forefront. What torture it was to chose between them, his parents, the only two who had ever loved him for what he was. To have chosen his mother's wishes when his father was the only one he had left in this world... That he was here on this path whose only destination would lead to losing the last remaining person who felt anything for him at all. A road to solitary confinement.
“Come in here.” Trevor told him, just shy of an outright order.
“I cannot.” He openly wept, overwhelmed so suddenly with what he was doing. His mother was dead and he was going to kill his father, and because of that he was latching on to this sweet kind boy before him out of a desperate need to belong somewhere when he destroyed all that he knew and had loved. “I am a demon.”
“You are a man.” Trevor countered. “Come here. Look at what you have done. Face it.”
“I know what I have done!” He cried out. “This entire city is a grave I dug with my own hands.” He tried to walk away then, to hide from his atrocities but the Hunter would have none of it. Faster than it took to look away, Trevor had hold of his hands and was turning him back towards what he never wanted to see again. “Please let me go.”
“No.” Trevor condemned him to the course with finality. “Do you know I don't believe in God? I am a blasphemer. I am also a fraud, parading around with these holy weapons and these holy symbols. You could even say I am treasonous towards the very organization who sent me on this quest. I am not doing this for their sacred edicts or to bolster their power with the masses, or for the righteousness of some apathetic god. I am doing this to keep my sons safe from your father, for some church gold, and for the ability to live my life without people whispering that I am a demon's spawn behind my back. Or my children's backs.”
“What does that have to do with any of this?” He whimpered, unable to shake free. Trevor, the only thing that was solid in his turmoil, kept drawing further and further away. He had no choice but to close that distance, following along lest he be lost in his anguish.
“It has everything to do with it! I am a willing and unrepentant sinner of the worst kind. I admit to committing some of the deadliest sins this religion condemns. I believe this is a hollow house and these are hollow tokens of fearful idiots too weak to protect themselves or take ownership of their actions. The devil has never made anyone do anything. They were just too weak to control themselves. This is what I truly believe and yet I have stood in this house and many others like it. I wasn't struck down, I didn't burn to a cinder in holy fire. You know why, Adrian? Because I know I am a good man. I do what I must and I am as kind to others as they warrant. Do you know why these holy weapons of mine still work when I have no faith in the power they supposedly stem from? Because they are my weapons and I know I must win with them. Your father commands his army through sheer Force of Will. Well this is mine.” The Hunter brought the Vampyre Killer up in his tight fist. “My will must be greater than Dracula's, and for that I can not waver. I cannot have my companions waver either. Are you a monster or a man?”
“I am a monster... Look what I have done.”
“You were the very worst kind of monster, but would you do this again?”
“Of course not!”
“Then are you a monster or a man?”
“I am...” He shook his head and stepped closer to the Hunter. Why in all the pounding of his heart and racing thoughts did it seem like the only anchor he had kept moving away from him? “I am a monster... and I am a man. I am both. Born and raised, I cannot be anything else.”
A stillness fell over the brunette as he contemplated Alucard's answer. “That's a fine and true answer, Adrian. But what kind of monster and man are you? One who would blindly follow the decree of a mad devil who ordered a massacre, or one who would stop the evil who dare try?”
“I would never allow this.. not now. Not as I am now. That is why I have followed you.” He whimpered.
“You are a sinner, just like me. But I can walk in this house because I know mine is a path of righteousness of my own convictions and value. You have committed the most heinous of crimes I can think of, but you are no longer the person, man or demon, who did it. You must and you will atone for these crimes, but you are a force for good now. Do you believe it as I do?”
“How can I be? How can I be of Dracula's blood and have carried out his will for so long and be anything even resembling good?”
“You are here with me now. Am I not what you would consider a force for good? Do you believe what we are doing is the right thing to do?”
“This has to stop. My father's anguished crusade has gone on long enough. That is why I am here, Trevor.” He reiterated. “I want this to stop. My mother's soul needs him to find peace.”
“That is why you are here.” The Hunter agreed, readily. “This has certainly tested my belief in redemption... Yet from the moment you left that cave back in the Sunken City, you have been making amends. No, actually, from the moment you challenged your father in my mother's stead and he struck you down. There's a long way to go, for sure, but you started down that path all on your own before we came around. So I... I forgive you, if that is what you need someone to do for you.” The Hunter offered graciously, bringing more tears to the Dhampyre's eyes. “Look... Our human God must agree your cause is virtuous as well. He let you inside his house, after all.” Freeing his hands, Trevor backed away with a small smile.
It was dark where they stood, filthy rainbows of light filtering in through smokey stained glass, illuminating the dusty interior, bouncing off the tarnished gold and silver of a massive cross just beyond an alter. Instinctively his hands patted down his being, feeling his body for any burning or pain, but there was nothing to be found. “What witchcraft is this?” He could barely voice the question for fear the holy air would see an opening and vaporize him from the inside out.
“There is no witchcraft. I am neither warlock or hedge mage. This is the result of your conviction and commitment to the change you alone embarked upon. You have only yourself to thank for this new man that you are. Demon-man, forgive me. So now that you are here... How about you give these people a proper burial? Even if it takes you all day, they have waited a long time for one and it's the least you can do for them. I'm sure you can find a way how... I'll be outside putting my clothes back on.”
The heavy church doors were pulled closed behind the Hunter, leaving him alone in the darkness with his sins laid bare. Unhooking his boots from Grant's snowshoe contraptions, he strode directly into the heart of the worship hall, turning slowly to survey the parchment faces pulled tight across bone of each victim. “Apologizing will not absolve me or ease your pain. To have your breath stolen is a truly agonizing death. To have your breath stolen and know that your loved ones around you are also suffering the same fate, knowing you are powerless to save them is so much worse... I know too well what it is like to stand uselessly by and watch someone you love die. That I have inflicted my anguish on so many... Accept only what I can offer you now.”
Elaborately carved pews warped in the field he conjured, heat expanding the sturdy wood until they shattered into a hail of splinters, but it was not enough. More heat was needed to wipe this hall clean, and the Dhampyre sought to pull fire from the very bowels of the earth if that is what it would take. Glass tiles and vases shattered next, peppering the bodies whose ivory bones now radiated red heat, skin and clothes long set to ash. His boots scraped the floor as he started to levitate, a cheap parlour trick he could just barely pull off for dramatic effect in most cases, but one necessary to keep from melting into the churning soup of bone char, glass, clay and metals, all broken down to the very base materials of each. Choosing an ambiguously long tailed star pattern of no set religious origin, he conducted the flames, their updrafts and down-bursts a symphony of his design. When the very last of the translucent china was moulded into place, Dhampyre Will forced the flames to heel, and then to soar high, heat, wind and sand scouring the centuries of grime from walls and stained glass, taking soot and filth out through the embrasures in the painted dome ceiling.
Work complete, the Dhampyre collapsed, unable to maintain his levitation for any longer, and uncaring how much the blistering hot porcelain he'd crafted seared his flesh.
When he was next able to perceive anything but brutal exhaustion and pain, three familiar faces surrounded him, all painted with varying degrees of concern. The outside edges of his hands and forearms were crimson, boils both fluid filled and burst open dotting the raw flesh, but other than some peeling first degree heat-rash on his knees he could feel through his trousers, he was otherwise all right. Simply drained of energy, that was really it. Suddenly self conscious, he averted his gaze, instead looking out over the brightly coloured lights dancing along the prayer hall filtered through the now pristine stained glass windows. Before the mighty glimmering cross looming over the alter was his equally massive bone china star floor, heat still radiating off the translucent grave marker. All that had been above was now below. The people who had chosen to be here instead of attempting to flee the city so long ago could now rest here properly. Forever a part of their place of worship and refuge. It was the very least he could have done.
“Look at these burns! We saw flames spew out of the bloody roof, even!” Sypha tsked in that motherly fashion he had grown accustomed to. “What ever were you doing in here?”
He tried to ask her why she was bothering to be concerned over him now that the humans had seen his greatest crime, but the words would not form. He tried next to explain that he had been trying to give his victims a modicum of peace and dignity, but those too were beyond his frazzled mind's ability to voice cohesively. Useless, he folded further into himself, chewing his lower lip to the point of bleeding, before crying out softly. “I just wanted to make them beautiful.”
“All right now.” Voice soothing, Trevor pulled him close. “It's going to be all right.”
Pathetically, shamefully, uselessly, all these things and more, he buried himself in the Hunter's arms, guilty face hidden in the folds of a padded vest, and wept. Clinging to the kind Hunter because he couldn't bear this guilt on his own, knowing full well he did not deserve the comfort he was being provided. “I just wanted to make them beautiful.” He repeated between chokes, each litany shushed and soothed by the patient Hunter.
After some time Trevor changed tactics, pulling him away enough so that he could see the soft features of the Belmont's bittersweet visage. “It's all right. Look.” He beseech, pointing to the porcelain star. “It's gorgeous”
In the now high morning sun, the light piercing the translucent china gave it an otherworldly, almost hallowed glow.
*****
December 1476 ~ Western Edge of Aljiba Woods, Abandoned Outpost
If asked far back in October - which frankly seemed like an eternity ago - how one as pampered as he'd grown up found the accommodations of this barren pile of sticks, no more than three and a quarter walls and half a roof, he'd have laughed at the poor attempt at a joke. How the mighty and pampered have fallen, he mused sardonically, staring at the veritable palace before him. Any structures still standing this close to the Northern scope of the Castle were worthy of a moments admiration. Dracula's Curse had seeped out first towards the North by choice, to capture Lupu and taint Aljiba's hunting grounds, and as such, the landscape was the most devoid of human dwellings. More importantly, this was the first semblance of shelter the party had come across in nearly two weeks, and the humans with their food down to desperate rations once more could use a more solid sleep to keep their energy up. They need only push through one more night. If they covered enough ground this evening, a continued march through the daylight should bring them into the protected realm of his Mother's village. Or at least the outlaying grounds.
As was his custom since Aljiba, the Dhampyre wordlessly assisted with setting up their camp before wandering out of the wood stack shack to walk the perimeter, peering out into forest as he would continue to do so until the sun started to dip and the party packed up to venture onward. Through the subsequent days after the Church incident, in the heat of battle the humans and he would fall back into the familiar patterns of their earlier days together, trading quips and finding peculiar joys in combining talents and tactics to dispatch their foes. Even laughing, teasing. But at some point either they or he would remember Aljiba, and the light inside them would dim. Their words would falter, the air grow awkward, and he would excuse himself to any mundane task. It was simply the way things had to be now, but he would always treasure those early days and his first friendships. He only wished his quiet and distance from the other two did not cut the Hunter so deeply.
On top of all his other burdens, the poor boy was now forced to play mediator too. Carrying conversations that died out simply because the Dhampyre's input was necessary or relaying information that was discussed separately. The Hunter had even kept the full breadth of his sins secret, never divulging what had been behind his meltdown at Aljiba's church. Knowing wouldn't change anything for the better, and it would only lead to upset them further, Trevor had explained. It served no purpose, and they knew enough to come to their own conclusions concerning him. There was, at least, no cruelty or active shunning on their part, and for that he was thankful. They just simply did not know what to say to the man they had called friend who was guilty of what he was. They could not be blamed, and Alucard certainly understood that. Seeing as their burdens were also great without his own accursed penance to trouble them, he thought it best to keep his distance. Out here his presence did not steal their jovial conversation, or remind them of what evils his father had let loose upon their world.
Sentry patrol came to stall as pointed ears picked up the soft compression of powdered snow. The weight, sound and scent gave the visitor away, as did the knowledge that at this time in the morning Grant and Sypha would be fast asleep in their bedrolls. For nobody got any rest around Trevor Belmont's fitful dreams. Not until he'd started bedding down next to half a demon of all things. Those lost precious moments of respite were one thing that cut him painfully. It was selfish, but he missed having the Hunter climb into his arms every morning. He missed the warmth and the small talks. After their courtship of sorts in Fetra, he missed the toying touches and sneaking just outside the scope of their camp to trade shy pleasures. He missed the blackness he'd slip into afterwards, curled around that slender body both protectively and whilst feeling protected. He missed Trevor. The Hunter was right there, every morning and every evening, but he might as well been on the other side of the country.
Softly crunching snow came to a halt mere inches from him, as he could feel the body heat radiating off the young man. Dhampyre senses and all that. After a long enough beat, where it must have become obvious to the Hunter that he was not going to acknowledge or welcome his presence, strong arms circled around his waist and the Hunter drew himself flush against his back. Content to stay as he was until a few moments later when it was not enough.
“Come sit by the fire.” The brunette said invitingly, his hushed voice laced with a hidden agenda.
“I am keeping watch.” He rebuffed softly, but with not without firmness.
“Last I checked, fires did not prevent you from keeping an eye and ear out, but as you wish.” The Hunter relented, his head falling forward to rest along the curve of spine. “We will reach your mother's village soon, won't we?” Trevor asked, clearly trying to force him from being so closed off. The Hunter smelled strongly of disappointment when all he received for the effort was a short nod of the head. “...Do you want me to just be quiet?” He finally asked after another long pause. Alucard couldn't say what he wanted, so he said nothing at all which the Hunter, scent now forlorn, took to mean a yes.
The tremble of the Hunter's body was felt before the sound of his teeth chattering reached the Dhampyre's ears. Sighing heavily, Alucard turned to face the freezing boy, his lips practically blue. “You are cold. Go warm yourself back by the fire.”
“I am fine.” The Hunter bit back, his dearly missed petulance making a temporary comeback. “I would like to be with you, and this is where you are dead set upon being.” The outburst sounded adorably accusatory, going so far as to bring the ghost of a smile back to the Dhampyre's lips, which did not escape Trevor's notice. “Ah, there we are. I think I remember a guy like you.”
“That guy is still around. There is just a lot for him to contemplate lately. Give him a break.” He replied with a tired attempt at levity.
A ghost of a smile now pulled at the Hunter's lip, but could not chase the sorrow from his eyes. “I have been sorely missing that guy. Would you tell him that for me? Could you tell him I am bored in the morning with no one to talk to and that my bedroll is freezing without him too? In fact...” A faint touch of rose stained the boy's cheeks. “Could you maybe let him know that I have been thinking about... his touch? The lack of which has me in quite a bothered state.”
He regarded the trepidacious Hunter with equal parts longing and regret. “I have missed you terribly as well.” Admitted the Dhampyre honestly. “I don't mean to neglect you. It's just given what is quickly approaching, I do not wish to disrupt what harmony your friends and yourself have left. Your bonds have brought you so far, and it seems I strain them during the quiet hours we have so precious few of.”
“Is that what you think?” The Hunter murmured almost to himself. “It's not true... They know what they saw back there was a crime from two hundred years in the past. They also know that you have been making amends, and will continue to do so for a long time after we are gone. They can ask no more of you then that. What disrupts their good cheer is that you cannot even meet their eyes. You act like you do not want them around you, so they are doing their best to give you your space. It's very trying for me, having to be the parent for the lot of you.”
“I am sorry to trouble you.” He replied automatically.
“It's not trouble. It's tiring.” The Hunter clarified.
“What would you have me do? I do not wish to trouble or tire you...”
A warm hand slipped into his own, the Hunter giving a slight tug to get him moving. “I would have you start by coming back to the fire with me. I have not seen you sit down or so much as lean up against a tree since we left Aljiba. You've not fed, you've not drank anything and you have not rested. And do not start to quote me some Vampyric facts about your stamina or whatever. You've been struggling every night alongside us, getting injured and exhausting your spiritual reserves.”
Why was he still moving, he wondered, following along after the Hunter because the young man had him by the hand. It wasn't like he couldn't stop dead or let go. “I can go a while still.” The Dhampyre argued instead. “You should save your strength.”
It was Trevor who stopped dead ahead of him, the grip on his hand tightening to nearly the point of pain. “You are worrying me.” The Hunter admitted in a small voice, and the words were like a knife in Alucard's guts. “We are so close now to finishing this. I need you all to be at your best, and you are starting to fall apart on me. Not just you, but Grant and Sypha too. It's fear and fatigue... I hope. But we cannot lose our vision now. We cannot waver.”
“I have not lost my sight, Trevor, I assure you. I know what I must do, and I know that I must do it soon.”
“Then why are you wavering now? You need to eat. I want you strong and watching my back out here.” The Hunter chewed his bottom lip, the hardness in his eyes giving way. “I... I need you. I am finding it harder every day to imagine what not having you around would be like. I am not sure how in such a short time you have ingrained yourself so deeply, but I feel sometimes like you have always been with me and that you will continue to stay by my side beyond this horizon. Knowing you are here with me is comforting, Adrian. I... do not have many comforts.”
Now it was the Dhampyre's turn to grow silent and conflicted, touched as he was by the Hunter's words. Did Trevor truly care for him as much as he did for the Hunter? Surely such sentiment was plainly spoken enough that there could be no confusion. Yet he felt as much as he would have given anything months ago to have the Hunter look at him in such a way, these sweet confessions alongside those yearning blue eyes were not earned. He was not worthy of it yet. His debts could no longer be forced from mind and all but forgotten, and now it was time for punishment and penance. He was a monster... But also a man. Came a whisper across the void that was his mind. Men had obligations and needs. Men had debts to friends and family too. Trevor was correct. He had grown weak these past weeks. He'd promised to start reparations by ending his father's tyranny and if he kept this up he would be in no condition to do so. Soon he would not be able to protect Trevor. Guilt should guide a man to do right, not drive him to destruction. He could not atone if dead... There wasn't enough blood to spill in him after all.
The Dhampyre surprised the Hunter by sweeping him off his feet and into his arms like a new bride at the end of a storybook. As always Trevor felt much lighter than he should, knowing the strength such a body was capable of, but even his concern for the Hunter's diminished appetite and frame paled in the Dhampyre's sudden elation. “From the moment you woke me from my slumber my life has been one blessing after the other. I am so sorry I have been such a fool, focusing on my guilt and not on the solution. I will earn these feelings you have expressed for me, I promise you. I would be everything for you, be it your friend, your comfort, anything. Nothing could make me happier than you have just now... Knowing you want me around you...” He smiled inwardly and outwardly, no doubt stupidly to boot. Happiness was just such a delirious state of being, and not one he was accustomed to. It seemed like a state of being he could grow familiar with if only he stayed by Trevor Belmont's side. “I wish I could kiss you.”
Before The Dhampyre had a enough of his brain working to think of asking permission, Trevor threw his arms around Alucard's neck, giving it. Lips locked in a battle, Alucard picked a cautious path back to the shambled shelter, lowering his finest catch into their waiting bedroll and blankets and fell upon him like the world's gentlest predator. Hungry and in need, but awed and reverent. Perhaps a touch mischievous too, as he leaned in close to whisper wickedly of past deeds. “Do you remember that morning you sat in my lap wrapped snugly in my cloak and I did nothing but toy with these?” Alabaster hands already having worked the bindings of padded vest free, slipped inside the Hunter's buttery leather coat over his chest, emphasizing his teases. “All damn morning. All pleasure with no payoff. A little something I learned from you, if you must know... What if I did that again?” Alucard half wondered, half threatened. “You have been longing for weeks already. One day more can't be that difficult.”
“I can't believe I actually missed this perversion.” The Hunter exclaimed, clearly bewildered by his naked adoration. Disbelief aside, Trevor's own hands had found their way to his hips, freeing him of his belt and laces, and slipped inside to stroke him languidly. The Hunter clearly had been missing their little games, as he wasn't wasting any time. With a wanton look he entreated. “Feed before it's too late. Their nerves have made them lighter sleepers.”
Such an invitation from such a perfect creature was not to be refused. Working his way inside the Hunter's trousers wasn't enough, so he shifted them and small clothes down thighs, allowing full delicious access. Hardening length on display twitched, flushed head beginning to leak thin milky threads, all while it had yet to be touched. “You are so eager.” Alucard admonished, a little taken aback by how needy the Hunter truly was. How terrible to be so neglected, and to be the one guilty of such neglect. “Poor thing. Shall I comfort you?”
“What do you think?” The Hunter hissed, near the end of his patience. “Don't you want to be comforted, Adrian? Feel good with me for just a little while?”
His response was immediate, to push the Hunter back down and penetrate his flesh with ivory fangs. The body beneath him surrendered willingly to the invasion as he lost himself in the heat and flavour of Trevor Belmont. Gorging on such nectar that was blood of a Belmont, instinct and blind desire lead to him pinning the Hunter's knees to his chest, allowing him the best access to thrust madly against the brunette, desperate for that friction. By chance his frenzy and thoughtless aim found the sweetest spot he'd experienced yet, and he actively focused to keep his manhood gliding between the cleft of the Hunter's firm ass, his own leaking seed making it slick and more pleasurable.
“This is practically sodomy.” The Hunter stifled what may have been a moan, unable to keep the pleasure out of his voice. Fangs having long invaded his body eventually won out, and the Hunter tensed before relief turned his body limp. The smell of Trevor's ecstasy was all the Dhampyre could smell.
He withdrew his teeth and began to lick the sweat from the dreamy boy's skin, exposing flesh as he moved lower, tongue swirling here and there. It was the smell that called him. Different yet somehow similar to the Belmont's blood. Curiosity struck him and his tongue dipped into the creamy mess for a taste. It... was not what he expected, but it was definitely something he could get used to. Dhampyre tongue continued to lap it up while the Hunter tried to regain some of his composure, losing it all when Alucard decided to clean the sticky threads from the Hunter's slowly wilting cock. Shocked, the boy protested as quietly as he could, fearful of being caught in such a compromising position, but Alucard was far past the point of caring what would happen if either of their companions awoke and found him with this warm mouthful of flesh. In due time the protest faded into half formed pleas, and with two hands fisted into his hair to guide him, Trevor, far past cohesive thought, ruthlessly gave him an impromptu lesson on how to pleasure a man with nothing but your mouth. Held in place, the Hunter thrust into him with very little regard for anything but his own pleasure, never letting the Dhampyre come off his cock or cease his precise thrusts into the waiting throat until more of Trevor's seed was pumped into him.
Swallowing it all down, he was a little relieved when the hands in his hair changed from painfully gripping to methodical petting. He enjoyed his tresses being played with for a while, occasionally dipping in to kiss an inner thigh, enjoying the scent of the Hunter. Mindlessly his pattern tracing fingertip swirled it's way to that slick cleft, still slippery with his own earlier excitement. Out of curiosity he circled the ring of muscle, recalling an action he'd seen two young lovers he'd stalked engage in, and pressed ring and middle finger inside. Muscle resisted the intrusion at first, but slick as his fingers had become, they breached soon enough, and the Hunter hissed, whether from pleasure or pain he could not say. Trevor covered his mouth with both hands to stifle himself as Alucard slowly worked his fingers, marvelling at how much heat and pressure surrounded his probing digits and was encouraged to venture deeper.
“This is sodomy.” The Hunter finally managed to get out in a strained, but quiet voice.
“Is it?” He murmured passively, focused on the heat. “I was under the impression that required me to mount you.” Growing bored with his angle of view, he climbed up the Hunter's body so that he could lay by his side, and better watch the conflicted pleasure dance across his visage. “I think I can see why that young couple I ate were doing this. You seem to be enjoying yourself.” Alucard observed.
Red faced, Trevor shook his head and tried to keep his airy moans and hisses down to a minimum. “I don't know what I am feeling right now. Or why I am letting you continue to do this.”
“One would assume because you like what I am doing to you. Or perhaps it's out of guilt? You did just throat fuck me.”
“I did no-” The Hunter, remembering what they were doing and who was only five feet away from them, clamped his mouth shut, starting again in a whisper. “I did not throat... I did not do what you said.” The adorably innocent Hunter couldn't even say what he'd done out loud.
Alucard simply raised an eyebrow and waited.
There must have been no blood left in the Hunter's body. It was all in his inflamed cheeks. “Well... I tried to tell you. Do you have any idea how long it's been since my wife did that? What were you expecting?” Pleasure cut the Hunter off, as he had to once again muffle his enjoyment with both hands. Alucard delighted when he could feel the Hunter begin to push back against his palm, seeking to aide the Dhampyre in giving pleasure. “Keep doing that right there.” The blushing boy begged, using a hand to slightly correct the Dhampyre's trajectory. Bearing down on this perfect angle now caused the Hunter's cock to return to life, leaking fine threads with every roll of his hip. “No wonder this is a sin. Everything fun is a sin.”
Alucard lay quietly aside, watching this creature seek out his pleasure shamelessly, enjoying the sight and sensation of Trevor Belmont, for lack of a better word, fucking himself. He leaned in to kiss the brunette's brow, temple, and neck. Traced his ear with a tongue before dipping inside to explore. Finished with that, he returned to admiring the unhurried pace the Hunter had set, the boy seeming content to drag out his enjoyment for as long as he could. Quite suddenly it struck him how fluid Trevor's beauty was. How the context of the moment shaped the kind of beauty he exuded. Masculine or feminine, always dancing between the two but never settling. Surely Alucard could not have been the first to have noticed this. Drawing closer, he leaned in to ask some personal questions, still working his fingers inside the Hunter's wanton body.
“You said your wife would dress you in her head wear.” He ventured with a wickedly sly smile. “She fixed you hair and pinned her veils and feathers...”
The Hunter stared up at him apprehensively, but he did not cease his hip movement, instead increasing his pace. “She often did, yes.” He freely admitted again.
“I have been wondering since... And I suspect I may be on the mark.” The Dhampyre leaned in again to capture his mouth briefly. “She didn't just dress you in her hats, did she?”
Oh so tellingly, the Hunter's blush returned full force. “Why would you suspect that?” He asked, not denying a thing.
“My wife, like all French women, was a great lover of fashion.” Alucard quoted. “You were an artist's model. It's not so much a stretch to imagine you were your wife's fashion model as well. You've an androgynous enough shape after all, and she did have to make herself the nicest dresses, did she not?”
“I never bought her traditional gifts.” The brunette confessed after another one of those famous Belmont pauses. “All those baubles other girls fancied meant nothing to her. She like fabric and reels of ribbon or lace, and pearl or moonstone buttons. We never purchased clothing for her. She wanted everything perfect and uniquely her own. She liked to brag when others would ask who made her finery, and the envy in her friends eyes when she refused to share her talents. As you suspected... All those small details were hard to perfect on limp pinned fabric. So yes.” Trevor admitted. “I have worn not only every style of French women's head wear but their attire too.” Blue eyes fluttered shut before the Hunter's lithe body tensed one final time, this last touch of ecstasy seeming to leave him wholly spent. In the Dhampyre's embrace the sleepy boy contemplated his marital games. “Designing her dresses made her happy, and modelling them with a bottle of wine in me made for a great time. She was never one to ask for much... Was I wrong not to refuse her that one silly thing she did ask for? They are just clothes.”
Alucard smiled softly down at the dreamy eyed Hunter, withdrawing his fingers and gently wiping away the evidence of their sinful activities. His voice was soft as he gave his honest thoughts, hands working with great efficiency to redress both the Hunter and himself. “I think it was very sweet that you took the time to share in her interests. So many men of this era are so quick to dismiss anything considered women's work. Besides, you did mention you'd make the fairest bride in all of Paris.”
“I did not say that. It was her opinion.”
The Dhampyre laughed richly, uncaring if his mirth awoke their companions. “Clearly it was your destiny to wear those petticoats, garter stockings and breast bands. Little Estée could see it from the moment she laid eyes on you.”
Exhausted, the now fully clothed Hunter curled back into him, eyes unable to keep open. “You know if you tell anyone about any of this I will deny it, and they will think you a pervert of the highest order.”
“As opposed to what exactly?” He countered, chuckling softly. It was a good feeling, this. Even if it was only for this single morning, it felt wonderful to tease and pet the Hunter. If it so happened there would be no more playful mornings after this one, he could be satisfied with the memories made today. Whether he'd alter them down the line, re-imagining the Hunter in ivory lace and silk was a matter for another time.
“Grant, Sypha, and yourself.” The Hunter murmured, half asleep and with an earnest smile. “You all belong together. Perverts, the lot of you.”
Alucard's shoulder shook with the silent laughter he fought to keep under control. He resettle them both in their bedroll, blankets and Trevor's beloved tiny pillow all perfectly snug and comfortable, in such a way the lonely Hunter could cuddle up exactly how he enjoyed as easily as Dhampyre could watch the forest through the opening in their shelter. When the silence was broken it's sudden absence startled him, as he'd believed the Hunter to have fallen into a deep sleep quite some time earlier.
“You all belong together.” Trevor repeated, more asleep then awake. “You saved their lives more than once... Just talk to them. They know who you are.” The Hunter yawned, drifting back towards a deeper sleep. “They know who you really are. Don't you?”
Don't you? The words echoed in the Dhampyre's mind for a long time as he lay in the company of friends.
Yes, he concluded as the sun made it's returning curve on the horizon.
I do.
Chapter 17: A Thing or Two
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
June 2037 ~ Suginami ward, Tokyo
Hambone: Sounds like it was pretty intense. You sure you want to go back same day?
YoBear: Wouldn't you?
Hambone: Girl, you know I'd have never left. It's like a live action soap opera.
YoBear: There ya go. Plus I am like worried about him?
Hambone: He's 800 years old, babe. Stop mommying him.
YoBear: But he has been looking and acting like he's a lost kid. It's impossible not to get maternal.
Hambone: A lost kid who paralyzed and terrorized us?
YoBear: He had a tantrum one time. Yes it was a total dickmove, but he does feel bad about it. So I forgave him. So did you.
Hambone: I can't stay mad. He's one tequila bottle away from being the woman of my dreams.
YoBear: Hah hah. If we get you a brown wig he might go for you. Turns out he's got a very specific type.
Hambone: But seriously now. Be careful around the mystery moodswinger. I don't care if he is a time travelling relic or a manufactured menace. Be careful.
YoBear: Of course I will be careful. He seems to really like me, at least?
Hambone: I know you can take care of yourself. It's just I have sized up a lot of dudes in my career, and even asleep I can tell he's not normal.
YoBear: Alucard has the hots for him so of course he's not normal. Do you remember the Baetata incident?
Hambone: Oh shit. I had almost forgotten about that. It didn't even have a physical body. I was so confused.
YoBear: Haa. Yes. I had such a good time with that, but Julius ruined it. Turns out Vampyres can perceive them in their full form.
Hambone: I love him, but sometimes man... Just let us believe Genya was hot for a cluster of disco strobe party balls.
YoBear: Right? I wasted all that time singing I Feel Love for nothing.
Hambone: That's hilarious you mentioned that, cause I kept singing him Don't Leave Me This Way on the drive back. He actually punched me. First time I successfully annoyed him.
YoBear: Goddamn, I wish I had taken that free ride then. But I'll do you one better. Julius sang him Disco Inferno back at HQ. Complete with the dance.
Hambone: That poor man puts up with so much from us. All right, babe. Watch the pint-size one, and have a fun visit. TTYL
.
YoBear: <3
*****
Feeling like a bonafide expat, Yoko navigated her way through public transit in an absentminded state, eyes routinely drifting down towards her phone to catch the latest of Hammer's 'dank memes'. Like, who even says that still in the thirties? Well it did make her laugh, so perhaps that was why he kept up the cheesiness. Their whole relationship was kind of funny when she thought about it, considering how her first reaction to the wide-grinned man years ago had been to smile politely and wonder why the weirdo just kept staring at her from across the Castle courtyard. Clearly he was moonstruck by her innate awesomeness, so why hadn't he just walked over and spoken to her? It turns out size has nothing to do with ones nerves. Who knew? Regardless, she was glad his respectful puppy-dog affection grew on her, and glad she had someone normal to bitch to when Alucard and Julius were butting heads.
Which, she thought with a sigh of relief, is thankfully not what today is about. In fact, Julius had opted out of swinging back by the hospital after they left that morning, having realized both the time travelling brunette and Dhampyre were not waking any time soon. Trust had to be earned, the old Hunter had grunted. But it can't be earned if you don't trust that person to earn it, he'd also lectured. She got it, jeeze. Why couldn't he just come out and say he didn't want to intrude on a lover's reunion, or make Alucard feel like his every movement was being logged? She certainly wanted to intrude on a lover's reunion. Slightly more to make sure the small tyrant wasn't strangling the Dhampyre with his IV drip than out of nosiness, and mostly to bring a peace offering of sorts to Alucard. Green tea crullers. Alucard's favourite, and enough for all three of them.
The bus stopped a respectable distance from the hospital entrance way, giving Yoko the time to enjoy some sunshine – a rare treat – even if the humidity threatened to puff up her hair. One day she might be able to be normal, sleeping at night and enjoying daylight. Maybe working at a book store part time or in the Church's Archival Division. Well probably not. She was a legally licensed card carrying Arcane Practitioner, and her bosses sure loathed wasting license fees. Or liked keeping their legal sorceresses documented and busy. Probably a combination of both.
Legal sorceress made quick work of the ramp, stopping by the cafeteria for some hot beverages. She got a little caught up on ordering for the boy from the cave, as honestly, what would a fifteenth century barbarian want to drink? She settled on hot chocolate because who could say no to chocolate, and opted for the stairs. Considering what had happened the last time she took the elevator and all, one could forgive her for being a little superstitious. The main hub of the long term patient care bustled quietly about, just as if a syringe waving waif had never threatened the entire wing just that morning. With a little smile and tip of her head to the familiar faces, Yoko stepped through the open door with held breath, unknowing of what mood she would find the Terror of Tokyo in this time. Her concern was unwarranted.
The Terror of Tokyo was fast asleep, curled up foetal-like around Alucard's torso, head and hand resting just over the Dhampyre's heart. It didn't seem to bother his rest that Alucard had the bed propped up for sitting, using the side table tray attachment to work, tapping away on his tablet and phone near simultaneously in a great display of dexterity and multitasking. Yoko wondered if she gave him her phone, would he be able to type with his toes on top of what he was already doing? Speaking of toes, she took a moment just to take the domesticity in. Alucard barefoot and with his top shirt buttons undone, coat, vest and tie cast aside on a nearby chair, silver-white hair tousled and unkempt. Rarely was the Dhampyre anything but overdressed and hair immaculate, skinny dipping for tree monsters not withstanding. When he continued to tap away, engrossed in whatever he was working on, Yoko cleared her throat a little self consciously.
“Is this a bad time for visitors?”
Alucard pocketed his phone and put the tablet to sleep in quick order, meeting her gaze with a hint of a smile. “No, not at all. I was just requesting some documents and a conference video. Might as well catch up on some of the work I have been neglecting.”
“How do you do what you do all night and still have a day job? Sounds exhausting.”
“It's not a day job.” The Dhampyre replied cryptically.
Yoko huffed, mildly annoyed. “Are you ever going to tell me what 'government work' really stands for?” She really didn't expect an answer, so when Alucard threw her the tiniest morsel of information, it felt like he'd prepared her a feast.
“It is liaison work. Being what I am allows me the opportunity to bridge certain gaps, and aide certain armistices. Sometimes for governments. Sometimes I just want or need certain connections.”
The Sorceress was flabbergasted. Actual freely divulged information. No tooth pulling required. “So you are a peacekeeper?”
The Dhampyre pondered her statement, his hint of a smile nearly making the leap into a real one. “Yes, I suppose you could say I am.” Then with a dry almost-laugh he added. “It doesn't always turn out how I'd like though.”
“Well, thank you for sharing with me... I kind of see you in a different light now; More as beleaguered negotiator who just wants the best for all parties. It's kind of a romantic self-sacrificing thing. It'd make a great novel. The guy who'd play you in the movie a year later would be a hard drinking detective type and grizzled, because the damn movies never get the book right. Your closest partner would die in a misunderstanding trying to arrange a treaty and you'd swear to achieve that peace he was working for on his behalf. You'd have a son you never see with a woman who left you, but in the end they'd forgive you because you saved so many lives, and rescued your exes younger daughter she had with a no-good-for-her scumbag.”
“That's... very imaginative. Quite the dark backstory you've cooked up for me.” Alucard replied. Apparently still in a sharing mood, he confessed. “You are not too far off the mark. I do have the capacity to be a hard drinker. I once went on a sixty year bender with a friend.”
“That is a story I have got to hear.”
“That is a story for another day, I'm afraid.” Sharing time was as beautiful as it was brief, sadly. “What brings you back here, Yoko? You mustn't have slept much.”
“I am a pro power napper. I get right in there for the REM and get out while the gettin's good. Plus, I kept thinking about wanting to check up on you. It's got to be very tough emotionally these days... I was trying to imagine what it would be like if let's say my grandmother walked back through the door after I buried her. To say goodbye to her and move on and then there she was again? I don't know how that would feel.”
The Dhampyre looked down at the brunette coiled around him, features serene and breath even, smile finally breaking free. “It is a lot of things at once... Joy at seeing him. Disbelief that I can touch him again. Relief that I can once more hear his voice. Anger and anguish at where and in what state I found him in. Guilt that I stopped searching for him. Bitterness that he moved on in his life without me. Jealousy of my own friend because she took him to her bed. Shame that part of me... I cannot even put it to words. Just trust that I am having some very selfish and shameful thoughts. I am also afraid he is not real, even though everything about him seems genuine. Doubtful I would believe any facts that pointed to him being anything other than what I want him to be. But at the end of the day, it seems I do not care. If he is an illusion, I never want the spell to break. This delusion is most welcomed over a world void of Trevor Belmont.”
Well, that was certainly a very definitive answer if she'd ever heard one. “Julius thinks he is the real deal.” She offered as a small solace. “I couldn't find anything off about him either.”
“Hearing that makes me so happy... Happiness at his expense. If he is real, his family is long gone. He has nowhere to be and no one to return to.”
“He has you?”
Alucard shook his head slowly, expression shaded. “No, he no longer wants me or my hospitality. Which is rather humorous in a peculiar way as I had wanted to take care of him more than anything else. His life was hard and lonely and tragedy chased him across Europe. I was too afraid to follow through, and I kept thinking there was time. I could wait a little longer, because there was always the next day. And then there was not. He was mortal and I was not... Mortals do not wait. They cannot. Their lives are so short, and their time so precious. They must rush to fill their handful of years with as much happiness as they can. That he waited as long as he did was remarkable, and I love him for that. But he is no longer mine. Yet...” Alucard worked his bottom lip with sharp teeth, seeming to be thinking out loud more than talking to her now. “He is no longer Estée's or Sypha's either. They are gone. It shames me to think like that... The little Irish girl sounded so sweet, and Sypha was a firebrand of a woman. Both were more worthy than I.”
Yoko's heart broke a little more hearing the mournful stream of consciousness spilling out of her friend's lips. She looked away from his troubled face and back to the boy's. Still serene. Still curled contently at Alucard's side, ear and hand over the Dhampyre's chest. Had he lay there with the intent of drifting off while listening to Alucard's beating heart? “He looks like he is enjoying your company and your hospitality.” She remarked, gesturing to the sleeping brunette. “He seemed like he was happy to see you too, in between being temperamental.”
“This morning was the first time he ever admitted that he had loved me.” Alucard continued to ruminate, almost as if he hadn't heard her at all. “Such a double-edged sword that. To tell me I was indeed loved when I know it is past the point that I can do anything with that knowledge. He will only welcome my presence as long as he believes I can take him back to Sypha and his children... When he finds out they are dead, and that tragedy has struck him once more, he will remember that I was just another in a long line who hurt him. I begged for his heart and never fully realized he had been giving it to me piece by piece our entire journey together. When we defeated Dracula I had the whole thing in my hands. Yet I was blind to the fact I had everything I wanted. Now I have this... ticking time bomb.”
“Alucard...” She faltered.
“I don't care. When he hates that I am the only thing that survived his latest tragedy, I will still be happy he is alive.” The Dhampyre's mournful downturn of lip curled into a rueful smile. “But until then... I will fully enjoy every second of his he spares me. It has been fun to tease him like the good old days.”
Unsure what to do, Yoko shrugged sadly. “Has he been asleep all day?” She asked, just to keep the room from falling awkwardly silent. She also handed out the Dhampyre's coffee and the hot chocolate for the sleeping boy that he gratefully accepted and set on the tray.
“No. He was awake three times for a little bit. Twice for meals, which was fun to watch him learn how to eat with chopsticks. For a little while anyway. The little bastard has always been a quick learner. The other time he said he could see me, and then proceeded to describe exactly how terrible I look with a broken nose, two black eyes, burns around my neck, burns around my arms, wrinkled shirt, messy hair, and even commented on the dirt under my nails.” All this was said with a sour tone that did not match the half smile Alucard wore. “Then he told me I was scrawnier than he remembered but that I smelled good at least. At least.” Alucard finished with a scoff.
“Well, your shirt could use some ironing.” She agreed, unable to help taking notice of just how perfectly manicured the brunettes hands were. Clearly the boy was Captain of a medieval glam squad. “Honesty is refreshing, don't you think?”
“He is deliberately trying to be a brat. He may tolerate me now because he used to love me and assumes we will just go back to being friends once he's reunited with his family, but that doesn't mean his petulance isn't going to have him pressing all my buttons. Mark my words, now that he's taken a stab at my vanity next he'll be undermining my intelligence.” In spite of the continuing tirade, the Dhampyre still looked like he'd welcome the impending assault with open arms and a smile. “Or more likely with you here, he'll test my jealous tendencies.” He added with what seemed to be a genuine annoyance.
“Or,” Yoko ventured. “I will simply distract him from all those things with my winning personality and we'll all have a nice pressure-free visit.”
“Would be nice, that.”
“Wouldn't it? I feel the urge to assure you I am not here dig for more info on-” She caught herself before referring to her friend's former lover as Cave Boy right to his face. “-on Trevor.”
“You can relax, Yoko, for it never crossed my mind you were here out of anything but your gentle heart's whim.” The Dhampyre's tone made the flowery declaration rather believable. “You have been a lovely friend to have these past few years, though I do not believe I have ever taken the proper time to tell you how much I appreciate that you care.”
“Jeeze.” The Sorceress fidgeted self consciously. “Quit with the compliments already. My ego is swollen enough.” This made Alucard laugh, and she felt a little warm and fuzzy inside for being the one to make him do so. The old grump. “Oh... I think we woke him.” She gestured towards the stirring brunette and fell silent so as not to startle him with her presence.
Bleary blues eyes blinked open slowly, unfocused, just as a sigh of French words spilled out of the boy's mouth, breathy and seamless. It almost sounded like a song until it ended with what clearly was a question. Alucard simply smiled down silently, evidently enjoying the sound of the foreign words tumbling free, even going so far as to make wordless agreeing noises to keep the little French questions coming. It was kind of sweet and a little charming, but the more awake the boy became, the more skeptical he grew of the Dhampyre's fake responses, until finally he sat up, near fully awake, and glared.
“I still don't speak French.” Alucard finally replied. “But I do love to hear it on your tongue.”
“I was asking you if you cut my nails.” The boy's blue eyes were still narrowed when he switched over to that heavily accented Romanian. Which Yoko now definitively knew was because he was French.
“Yes, I did.” Alucard admitted with a bemused smile. “You are very particular about that, and since you were asleep most of the day and I could not move because you were sewn to my side, I figured it was a good way to kill time.”
“Thank you for molesting me in my sleep.” The brunette responded in a measured tone. “You couldn't fix those ragged things on your own hands at the same time? At least get the gunk out from under them?”
“I spent all early morning wrestling with a demon. And before dealing with you, there was this creature I was chasing through a dense forest. It was dirty work. Dealing with you, in particular.” Alucard responded smoothly, eyebrows raising a little as he waited for the brunette take in the little barb.
“What smells so good?” The brunette switched gears.
“That would be me. You said so yourself.” The Dhampyre replied with a smirk.
It amazed Yoko just how much he was enjoying himself. It was like seeing an entirely fleshed out person before her. Familiar shadows and line work that had made up the impenetrable enigma that was Alucard, only now fully realized in Technicolor and 3D. Even his untouchable and ageless visage was broken down, warmth and mirth lighting his eyes and revealing the true man behind that frigid stoic exterior. In fact, that otherworldly agelessness he'd exuded could be seen for what it truly was. Eternal youth. Alucard, in all his playfulness, looked only a handful of years older than the boy he was so pleased to tease. If she'd seen them together like this on a bus or out in a park having never met either man, she's think them of pair of college kids and go about her business none the wiser.
“Let me try this again.” The brunette sighed. “What smells so delicious?”
“Still me. I'd offer you a bite but you won't let me make you a Vampyre.” The Dhampyre teased. “Shame, really. You're already up all night and look like a porcelain doll. Just make the leap already and stop pretending to be one of us.”
“I wouldn't want to steal your thunder. You have so few things you do well, after all.” The boy responded in kind.
“Of course the famous Vampyre Hunter would make a masterful Vampyre. You are practically perfect in everything, after all.” The Dhampyre conceded.
“So you keep telling me. I can do no wrong according to the Prince of the Castle....” The brunette replied, drifting off into his own thoughts for a little moment at the end. “Does your father's passing make you the King now? I am actually curious about that.”
She noted how quickly Alucard looked away for the briefest moment and smoothly changed the subject. “How long are you to continue ignoring your visitor, Trevor?” He asked, directing the brunette's gaze to the foot of the bed where Yoko perched. “She came a long way to check up on you.”
Unfazed, Trevor responded. “I was going to ignore her for as long as she wanted to pretend she wasn't here. Seemed rude to call her out when she was doing her best to not draw attention. You are the same Yoko Belnades from earlier, yes?” He nodded when Yoko confirmed his suspicion. “I imagined you would be a lovely woman to look at. I am pleased to see I am not wrong. You don't look anything like the Belnades I know, but your family certainly has some common charms.”
“Why, thank you.” She preened, ignoring the twitch in one of Alucard's eyes and he struggled to keep his tight smile in place. Testing the Dhampyre's jealousy it was, then.
“I don't mean to be rude either, by judging you on your pretty face alone. You are sorceress as well, yes? My Belnades is frighteningly talented in that arcane art and she seems to have bottomless well of knowledge when it comes to medicine. Are these talents shared amongst your clan, Madame Belnades?”
“Some of us are a lot better at certain talents than others. We have famous scholars and researchers, wonderful professors who teach sorceresses across the globe, and we have capable healers and naturopaths. Belnades is a long line of talented women bringing the best of themselves to the next generation.”
“You should be very proud of the name you bear. May I ask what your expertise is?”
Yoko preened even more, thrilled at how strained Alucard's grin had become. “You may.” She replied, scooting in closer to the head of the bed so she could extend her hand for a handshake she dragged out tremendously long under the Dhampyres positively green gaze. “We didn't get the chance to meet properly earlier now did we, Mister Belmont? I am Yoko Belnades, sorceress and researcher for the Church, and my expertise...” She leaned in even closer, eyes full of mischief. “Is blowing things up!”
The brunette let out a delighted laugh, sharing her mischievous grin and closed both his hands around hers in friendly affection. “That is the best possible thing to be an expert of!” He exclaimed. “You are also a hunter, right? I would love to see that expertise in action. Witchfire is so beautiful. The arcane flames are so graceful, I could watch it snake across a battlefield all night.” So much prettier than Hellfire, the brunette all but came out and said. Oh, was Alucard on the money about him or what. A sublime brat.
“Well, once you're felling better maybe we can go play in the woods around here and hunt some harpies or yokai? I'll put on a show for you. A little 'Best Of' of Yoko's famous fireballs. Wouldn't that be fun?”
“I would love that.” The brunette agreed readily.
“When you are better.” Alucard interjected, stressing the 'when'. The boy all but rolled his eyes. “Here,” he said, handing over the hot chocolate to the brunette finally. “This is what smells sweet in the air. Yoko brought it for you. Be careful, it's hot.”
“I am not a child, Adrian.” With such an eyeroll and flat reply before accepting the still steaming beverage, the kid sure wasn't making a great case for himself. Alucard watched him puzzle out the perforated lid without a word of instruction successfully on his own, the boy seeming pleased with himself when the tab snapped in place and the chocolate aroma was free to fill the air. “It's smells intoxicating. What is it?”
“Try it first.” The Dhampyre replied so Yoko quickly shut her mouth.
The boy narrowed his eyes but went in for the sip in spite of his suspicions. A second later Yoko could clearly see that chocolate had just blown this fifteenth century Frenchman's mind. Eyes wide with disbelief he traded looks quickly between the pair of them. “What is this? Besides the best thing I have ever tasted.”
“It's hot chocolate.” She answered, kind of giddy to be sharing the splendours of the future with someone who was experiencing them for the first time. It was like secondhand wonderment.
“But what is that? This chocolate, where does it come from? Is it always hot? Where can I get more?”
“Well, it comes from the beans of cacao pods. You scoop em out or whatever, ground em up, roast em, throw some other stuff in there to take out the bitterness and boom! You got yourself some chocolate.” Yoko tried to explain, cobbling together the gist of the process from out of fragmented memories of some Mayan documentary she watched back in high school.
“It is a plant.” Trevor surmised “This tastes like no plant I have ever seen.”
“It is from a nut on a theobroma tree.” Alucard clarified. “Cacao is what it is in it's purist form. What Yoko is describing is the processed version of it. Cocoa. Most people prefer cocoa that has been mixed with sugar and cocoa butter. Cacao used to be the drink of Emperors and Kings... You like it?”
Trevor blinked slowly a few times and looked down at the dark liquid in his cup. “You know I rather missed your impromptu lessons... Travelling with you was like touring the countryside with a full library. I never had to wonder what something was for longer than it took to wonder it out loud.”
Yoko laughed. “That's very true. Between Alucard and our other partner in crime, Julius, I'll never have to open an encyclopedia ever again. Even if I wanted to, you can't get this guy to save the exposition nine out of ten times, y'know? You never found that lecturing tendency to get a little old sometimes?” She inquired, curious to see if fifteenth century Alucard had been in the habit of giving unasked for history lessons as well, or if it was a modern age habit he'd recently fallen into.
Faint colour touched the boy's cheeks as he kept his eyes fixed on his cup in hand. “Not at all.” He replied, his words relaxing the strained smile of the ever watchful Dhampyre. “Those lectures kept me sane on that long journey of ours. Next time your mind is racing or you are worried about what is coming next, I suggest asking about some frivolous thing. I'd just close my eyes and he'd prattle on and my thoughts would settle as I listened to him. I learned a few things too.” Finally looking up from the hot chocolate, Trevor caught Alucard's eyes and held them. “That was one of those few things you did well.” The callback, framed like an insult, was anything but.
Clamping hard down on an escaping squee, the Sorceress watched what was perhaps the most bittersweet exchange of longing looks between two grown men. Regardless of what had happened, or who left who, or what was promised or broken or whatever, there was no denying that there was real love still hanging between them. It was agonizing to watch each side desire but deny themselves their One That Got Away, but rather than screaming 'just kiss him, you fool' like she wanted to, Yoko sat back and shoved that inappropriate squee back inside. “What do you do well, Mister Belmont?” She asked in lieu of screaming nonsense.
“Me?” The brunette faltered. “I do a lot of things to get by well enough, I suppose. It would be rather embarrassing to claim I am great at anything and be proven a liar down the road.” With a small smile he added. “But if you permit me to be sentimental, I think I am a good parent. It is certainly the work I have undertaken that has brought me the most joy.”
“You make it sound like a job.” She teased.
“They are twin boys.” Trevor retorted and she conceded that point. One kid was enough to worry about.
“Mister Belmont is your regular Jack of all Trades.” Alucard divulged, dragging out the word Mister like he was testing the sound of it. Yoko had to assumed he had never addressed Trevor Belmont formally before. “A scribe and translator. A researcher of Hellspawn and other such lifeforms. A part-time vegetable and herb farmer, with some dabbling in flower gardening. A fearsome hunter, with a specialty in vanquishing my kind.” With a wink and a smug grin he finished. “Oh, and of course he was a nude model for artists as well. That was my favourite job to hear about.”
Yoko pressed her lips firmly together to keep from laughing at how mortified the brunette had become. “Art is so important to our culture.” She managed to get out in a very analytical sounding tone. “Good on you for helping out the great minds of your generation.”
“Yes. Cultivating artistic talents is a worthwhile endeavour.” Trevor agreed levelly, all while elbowing Alucard in the ribs.
The Dhampyre did nothing to hide his amusement. “I agree wholeheartedly. It was very generous of you to lend your youthful form to the arts.”
“There was nothing lascivious or obscene about it, outside of the confines of your perverted mind.” The brunette stressed.
“There certainly was when I drew you. I found it the very height of eroticism.” The Dhampyre snickered, barely able to speak through his laughter.
“Are you serious...” Trevor groaned. “Get out of my bed.”
“Since I am paying for it, it's kind of my bed.”
“Well I would get out, but I am shackled to your bed against my will.” The boy spat, jerking his hand, the sole limb still restrained for his own good.
Without missing a beat and continuing to struggle against his merriment, Alucard threw up his hands. “You make it sound like this is the first time you've been shackled to my bed.” Mere seconds later he was picking himself up off the hospital floor, having been shoved out of the very bed in question. “It was worth it.” Alucard declared wearing a wide grin, dusting himself off. He leaned over the spot he'd just been so rudely evicted from and tried to study the red faced Trevor, but the mortified brunette staunchly refused to even look at him. Or her, for that matter. “You don't have to blush like that, Trevor. I am just teasing you and Yoko has heard far worse things. She is a Belnades through and through. Sypha could have learned a few things from this girl.”
“I don't care if she was Sypha, watch your mouth outside the privacy of a closed room. I've worked very hard to not be burned at the stake, thank you.”
“You'll be happy to know, nobody does that here in Japan. In fact, provided you are not going out of your way to be obnoxious about it, certain unconventional lifestyles are simply politely accepted and not questioned. What a time to be alive, hmm?”
“A pervert in a land of perversion, I see. So it was not defending the weak from witch covens that brought you here after all. I almost believed your noble cause, you know?” Trevor sighed and pulled at the sole restraining strap once more only with much less energy, sighing again when it did not give an inch. “I suppose it could be both, yes?” He interjected before Alucard could even get a word in. “I wish I could help you with this matter instead of laying uselessly here in this prison. Yes, I mean prison, as I am here against my will, and no, I will not be convinced otherwise. I have tried to recall anything that might have fallen along the lines of what you were questioning me about, but I truly can not recall anything finite.”
“That's all right, Trevor.” Alucard tried to sooth. “When people are in a great deal of pain the mind does what it must to protect itself. Sometimes that entails wiping the whole event from you memory.”
“It is not fine. There were several arguments I overheard while under Julia's care. She sounded desperate and was pleading. It's after that things got cold and dark.” The boy chewed his bottom lip and held out his free bandaged wrist. “Under these bandages are cuts. I do remember being sliced repeatedly for my blood. I believe I may have been an instrument used in some blood sacrament or ritual, as they took so much each time. I could hardly stay awake after the frequent bloodletting. I did manage to feel around in the dark in between being bled dry. It was all rough-hewn stone and damp, but there didn't seem to be any sort of entrance way I could find.”
“Sounds like a cave under the earth.” Yoko pondered out loud. “Like where we found him.”
“You know what is most strange? I know I was there for a long time. The knives would come out at the witching hour each day, and I swear unless I got so muddled up and confused from the dark that I counted almost a year before I just could not any more. And in all that time I can't once remember being fed?”
Alucard gestured towards the intravenous tubes, drawing Trevor's attention them. “While you were unconscious one of the little tubes attached here was hooked up to a formula that fed you. It is sort of risky and not a doctor's first choice, but I very much doubt whoever was bleeding you dry every day was very concerned about such a thing as infection... Perhaps you were sustained in such a fashion?”
“I don't recall being attached to anything, but perhaps you are right...” The brunette fell silent and swallowed down the last of his tepid chocolate. “This was very tasty, Madame Belnades, thank you.”
“You can call me Yoko, you know. A friend of Alucard's is a friend of mine. Plus it sounds like you practically married a distant relative of mine, Mister Belmont, so I guess that makes us family too.” The sudden smile the Terror of Tokyo gave her was enough to make her forget why she'd been jokingly referring to him as such, and she smiled back just a earnestly. “So distant maybe cousin, may I call you Trevor?” After another smile and nod Yoko continued. “Well Trevor, it seems like you do recall quite a bit, so I wouldn't stress yourself out about the black spots. Sounds like it may come back to you once you're all healed up. And you have been a help, even if you don't believe you've been anything but an invalid in a bed.”
“Have I?” The brunette asked disbelievingly.
“Yes you have, Trevor.” Alucard insisted. “Without a doubt we know it truly was the Castle that witch sought to reach with that sacrament. Belmont blood is a perfect catalyst for such a spell, the closer to Leon Belmont the better. The holiness in their bloodline stems from him, and you, Trevor, are a direct descendant of Leon. So we know this High Priestess will want her ritual piece back before the thinning Veil fades from this place and she must move her coven to Romania if she wishes to attempt again.”
“...So you wish to be my bodyguard.” Trevor asked simply, but it must have been a loaded question judging by the way Alucard deflated in front of her.
“You are perfectly capable of taking care of your self and your own.” The Dhampyre responded carefully. “I will watch your back if you watch mine.” The response was ruminated over for quite a long time, but the young Belmont finally nodded, having found the answer to be satisfactory. The elongated thought process that had started to annoy Yoko had the opposite effect on the Dhampyre, drawing a wide smile out of Alucard, and with an earnest laugh he exclaimed. “The Belmont Pause! I never thought I'd behold it again.”
“The Belmont what?” Yoko and Trevor asked in unison.
“It's that thing you did just now. When I'd ask you a question or tell you something and you'd stare at me for minutes sometimes before answering. That thing!”
“...Thinking? You mean when I take a moment to try and determine if and where the hidden dagger or horse shit is in what you are telling me? I wasn't aware you had a term for it. Other than what it is, which is just being cautious.”
“The Belmont Pause.” Alucard reiterated. “It perfectly sums it up. I have missed that so much. Watching the clockwork turn behind your eyes was such a delight, you really have no idea. If you had to pause before answering, it was always because what was coming was a poignant reply.”
“I am starting to think I never truly did know what was going on in your mind after all.” The young Belmont relented.
The Dhampyre grinned wickedly and shrugged. “I was a very simple creature when you knew me, Trevor. Most of the time the only thing that was dancing through my mind was you.”
“Of course.” The brunette stated with disbelief.
“Don't act like you were so above and beyond that sort of thing. Sypha told me you used to stare at me when I wasn't looking.” Alucard smoothly dodged the pillow thrown his way and kept at it. “So it seems like I was not the only one who was a little moonstruck and light on my feet with a new romance. And that's not even saying anything about all those anatomical inquiries of yours.”
“That was plain and simple research for the Belmont Bestiary, you ass. Don't inflate pure and simple scientific pursuit with your ego into something it was nor ever will not be. Ass.”
“I don't think scientific observation strictly requires so much fondling, but you go ahead and paint the picture you want to paint, my sweet.”
“That,” Trevor bit back. “-was strictly and simply business. You were a fascinating specimen my family had scarce information on and I filled out that entry. I filled it out completely. There has never been a more thorough study on Dhampyre's before or since. That's a fact, sweetheart.”
Yoko scooted even further back on the mattress to get a wide view of this sexually charged exchange, certain that if the younger Belmont wasn't attached to the bed rail she might have had to excuse herself from the room when they started having angry make-up sex in front her. Might have... Depends on if they noticed she was still in the room before they finished.
“So you know how I work.” Alucard teased.
Playfully on the surface level, but with a hidden edge of something dangerous, Trevor replied sweetly. “I do, in fact, know how every inch of you works now, Adrian. This predicament I've gotten myself into pleases you to no end. You have me all to yourself and I've only you to rely on. I do not speak the language, I do not know the land, and I do not know how to extricate myself from this prison and see myself home. On top of all that, I am being threatened but a force unknown to me, and I've only you here to enlighten me to the degree of danger I may be in, and in this state, defend me. You have all the answers I lack, and I am at the mercy of what you deign to divulge. Your great fantasy has become a reality for you, after all.” The brunette's playful smile hardened into a sneer. “Against my intent I find myself to be your damsel in distress. Your perfect storybook princess in need of a saviour. You may ride in on your white steed in as grandiose a fashion you desire, and by all means, enjoy my helplessness if it brings you pleasure. But spare me your attempts at reminiscing over what has passed and is done with. There is no point studying the same subject twice.”
Ouch... Yoko winced at Alucard's expense. The poor guy was hooked and drawn in with absolute ruthlessness. She'd never heard someone so thoroughly dismiss their ex before, and damn if this kid wasn't a master at sticking the knives exactly where they would do the most damage.
“I... I am very sorry.” The extremely subdued Dhampyre murmured. “I am not trying to... It's just... I suppose I fell back into familiar patterns. We're not familiar any more.”
“No we are not.” Trevor stressed.
“I am not finding any pleasure in your suffering either... I know this must be hard. I know it will only become more painful the more time passes.” The Dhampyre continued to speak in hushed tone, yellow eyes unable to rise from the floor. “I missed you and I got carried away. This isn't a happy reunion for you, and I am sorry I cannot control my selfish desire to make it one for myself.”
“You know, I want to help you. If this woman is as dangerous as you make her out to be, she needs to be hunted down.” Softer now, Trevor's voice was void of any of the earlier hostility. Instead it seemed he was speaking much like a father trying to explain to a misbehaving child why he was being punished. “If she will come for me I have no qualms of being the bait for you to catch her. We've fought a great many battles side by side successfully, and standing once more at your side as a brother in arms is not unfathomable for me. You are my friend. Do you still know that?”
Alucard shook his head, but it was unclear exactly what answer he was giving.
“I am furious with you, but you are my friend. You will always be my friend so long as you offer your friendship, and I will always offer to be yours. What I will not be is your fantasy version of me. I am not your wife, your pet, or your plaything. You are not my husband, my protector or my property. It would be wonderful if we could joke and you could embarrass me with your explicit tongue and unabashed affection because I missed you and your perversions, but frankly we are a long way from that right now.”
“...I-I understand. I'm so sorry...”
“Don't say it, prove it.” Trevor said, now soothing, and Yoko wondered if maybe Trevor Belmont was where that particular mantra Julius and Alucard echoed often had come from after hearing him spit it out so automatically. “Start by letting me help. Show me your map again and where I was found. I too have some questions for this witch, and would like to find her sooner rather than later.” The brunette shifted over more to the side of the bed and made room for Alucard to sit back next to him, tablet in hand. At the same time he beckoned Yoko closer with a gentle smile, genuinely eager for her input. “I apologize for quarrelling before a lady. Some times old friends need to throw all their frustrations down in the open in order to sort them out.”
The Sorceress gave a totally not at all nervous smile back and claimed it was no problem. It wasn't at all like she was afraid she would be the one to do something next that set the Terror of Tokyo off. No siree. They were getting hardcore down to business and everyone was going to have a handy dandy old time. Except when Alucard booted up the tablet and loaded the map app to get down to hardcore business, Trevor Belmont, born new years day of fifteen hundred and fifty-seven, caught sight of the entire panned out world map. In short, Trevor Belmont discovered the Americas, and the entire evening was derailed from that point on.
That wasn't even getting into the part of the evening when that conference video Alucard had requested for his liaison work popped up in a notification window, which quick handed Trevor instinctively reached out to poke. Now not only was a fifteenth century Frenchman blown away by chocolate, the New World, harbouring an intense desire to try oranges and bananas, amazed at the concept of countries where it never ever snowed, and particularly interested to hear that women walked around in bikinis and no one seemed to care... But there were also people trapped in the map! Yoko chortled away as Alucard tried to keep him from popping the tablet open at it's seams, all while Trevor kept asking why Alucard would trap those poor people inside such a small space, because it was blatantly obvious with a look how sad and miserable they clearly were in there. The Dhampyre's explanation that all Japanese businessmen looked that sad didn't seem to diffuse the situation, and the Sorceress offered exactly zero aid in explaining how digital video worked, because really, she actually had no idea how to explain glass lenses and microphones in a way a person with no concept of even photographs would understand.
Completely derailed. The whole night was a write off... With one tiny exception.
Yoko got to enjoy that second-hand wonderment again and again with every question and topic Alucard patiently answered for Trevor complete with all the ancillary information needed for each subject, and extra fun facts thrown in for good measure. Trevor was receptive and fascinated, and all the hidden tension in the room seemed to give way to Alucard's deep voice. Yoko realized the young Belmont had been right about the Dhampyre's impromptu lectures... Her nerves had grown calm.
You know what? She even learned a thing or two.
Notes:
This Chapter was brought to you by the Super Smash Brother's Ultimate Castlevania Stage music OST. Nathan Grave's theme is in there.
Chapter 18: Homecoming
Chapter Text
December 1476 ~ South Aljiba Woods, Boarder of Lupu
Here was the only place that Alucard truly felt at home, surveying the bones of willow, poplar, alder and oaks. Familiar scents sneaking up on him from beyond the encapsulated chronospere that lay ahead no matter which way the wind turned, each gust carrying not only perfume but long drawn out memories, half faded. Countless snippets running seamlessly into each other of such silly little moments that had seemed at the time so uneventful and not worth recollection. Of wandering through the fields hand in hand with Lisa, collecting wildflowers and herbs, all in the name of medicine making. She teaching him what each plant that caught his eye could do, and which ones tasted the best. Others of failing spectacularly to stalk his father through the nearby trees. Thinking so smugly that he was a veritable night prowler, oblivious to the twigs and fir needles crunching under heel and of his father's amusement at his abysmal attempts. Thirty yards East of where the party now stood, a young Adrian had caught his first rabbit, and first partook of the foul taste of animal blood. All in the name of learning how to survive, for the time may come one day when eating an animal was the difference between life and death, so Dracula had intoned knowingly. The Master of the Castle had been correct about that. Just beyond the barrier enclosing Lupu's lush grassy fields, Alucard had tried to make his first friends, only to scare the pair of girls off when one tripped scraping her knee, and his hunger as a young Dhampyre could not be contained. Were it not for his mother being so nearby gathering wild plants that she could intervene, his tale would have ended like so many others of his halfbreed kind. Now here he was centuries later, waiting patient and still at the cusp of his home for the marching humans ahead of him to discover the trick of Dracula's protection. It was either going to amuse or unsettle them, and Dhampyre would be lying if he said he wasn't curious to find out which.
Of course it was the ever resourceful Rogue who was first to reach the invisible cusp, Grant being an explorer at heart and always eager to scout ahead, seeing for himself the world that waited before another could spoil the surprise. Alucard held his breath as Grant shuffled closer on those silly snow shoes they all secretly loved but adamantly refused to admit to him they did. So close... Just a little more... and there! When the Rogue seemed to meld into empty space Trevor and Sypha stopped dead, eyes fixed ahead at where their companion had just been. It was only Alucard's hearty laughter and the sound of him clapping Grant on the back that drew their attention away from the supernatural phenomena. Grant stared bug eyed up at him. He'd been fifty feet ahead and now he was back by the Dhampyre's side. Spreading his arms wide for dramatic effect, the Dhampyre looked over his rapt audience and grinned.
“My friends, we have arrived at the border of Lupu. As you can see my father's defences are still standing.”
Trevor, the brat, ignored him completely to instead close the gap between himself and Grant, grasping at arms and shoulders to shake while he interrogated the Rogue. “That was amazing! What does it feel like? Did it hurt when you got spat out back here? Do you know how it works?”
“Kid,” Grant stalled and threw up his hands, giving up. “I was walking and then everything closed in and stretched out and I felt like I was rolled down a hill. But I was rolled over here. I don't know what happened or how it works, but I don't recommend it on a full stomach.”
The Hunter's face split in a wide grin and he took off at full breakneck speed towards the barrier, shouting back that he was starved so there should be no problem. Sypha's exasperation fell on deaf ears as a scant second later the Hunter was catapulting out of the warps exit point, colliding with the less than pleased Rogue, as the two spiralled in a clumsy snow shoe dance which ended with them in a tangled heap. Grant was even less pleased when the young Hunter was far too busy laughing to even attempt helping untangle their limbs. After Sypha could watch the pathetic two-man heap of an act no longer, she was forced to stomp over and pull the mess of limbs, bags and weapons apart, scolding them both even though clearly only one of them was to blame for this farce. Alucard folded his arms, ignored.
“I wonder if there is a record for how far someone has launched themselves out of this magick hole.” The Hunter mused, his face growing more serious as he spun the question through his mind. He still hadn't apologized for taking Grant out. Instead he dropped all his bags in a patch of the mid-morning sun peeking though the sparse canopy of tree limbs and took off again. Doing it three more times under the older humans exhausted gaze. On the third attempt he seemed satisfied enough to give the sudden pastime a rest, much to Sypha's relief. “That's easily seventeen feet.” He declared. “I bet in summertime I could do twenty-five. Maybe thirty.”
“How old are you?” Sypha huffed, with a shake of her head.
While her question was rhetorical, the Hunter was too high on his 'victory' to catch on, instead answering honestly, but in a tone that sounded like this was not the first time he's had to remind her. Probably not even the tenth. “I am nineteen.”
Sypha wasn't amused, but Alucard found the playful innocence rather endearing. This is what a nineteen year old should be doing. Competing in games and sport, wandering the countryside to expand their horizons and having a hearty laugh over the stupidest of things. Taking note of the competitiveness Trevor displayed, Alucard boasted a challenge. “I bet I could do forty in summertime, so you'll have to work on it.”
The Hunter's eyes lit up and he let out a disbelieving laugh. “Challenge accepted. I will meet you back here in June, but only to leap over your best attempt.”
“Goddamn children.” Grant sighed, but it had no fire. “If you are done playing around, and heaven knows where you got the energy to run after what we went through last night, perhaps we could work on how we surmount the Vampyre Master's magick barrier before I freeze my toes off?”
The Dhampyre raised his hands apologetically and lead the Rogue back to the cusp of the invisible barricade. Placing a hand on his shoulder and the other on the pulsing wall only he could perceive, Alucard closed his eyes and worked through the sequences of breaching the protective field exactly as Dracula had drilled him on countless times before, and pushed Grant through the temporary partition before the elder Vampyre's Force of Will slammed it shut once more. “Grant is safe and well on the inside now.” He explained before the other humans could begin to panic. “Come on, Sypha. It is very draining to fight my father's spell, so no dawdling.”
“Sure, why not? That's the point of travelling, right? New experiences.” The Mage shrugged uncomfortably but let him push her through the breach next.
When Trevor and all his gear stopped at his side next, he took a greedy second to just enjoy that for a brief moment, they were truly all alone. This oddly placed pause caused the Hunter some concern. “Are you all right? Is it that tiring? You can take a break if you have to. I don't want half of me to be inside this magick wall and the other half of me launching across the snow over there.” He said with a laugh.
Alucard simply shook his head and pulled the Hunter to him, gear and all, and kissed him. He meant it to be a short and mostly chaste kiss, like a little celebration for making it to this safe haven, but as with all things Trevor Belmont related, more was always preferable. The warm and welcoming response he received ramped up his desire, and both men lost themselves for a little too long in such an open and dangerous place, daytime or not.
“Are you really all right?” The Hunter asked again from the confines of his arms, with a quiet concern only a loved one could possess.
Alucard squeezed the younger man a little tighter and smiled bittersweetly. “I imagined bringing a cute boy home to my mother one day. She had a talent for picking out the curious and eager to learn, and I know she would have loved you if she were still here today.”
“Just your mother?” Trevor joked, and it was Alucard's turn to laugh.
“Believe it or not... The man my father was when I was a child would have loved you too. He was fond on tenacity. It's why he married my mother.” This confession hung in the air as the pair failed to quite meet each others gaze. While truth, it was odd to hear the assertion out loud, and likely unhelpful. The last thing the man who would kill Dracula needed was for the monster others had built up for him to be humanized.
“...I think Grant and Sypha might be getting a little worried.” The Hunter murmured, finally meeting his eyes.
“You are probably correct...” He conceded, and pushed the Hunter through before the urge to kiss him again overrode good sense. A second later he was walking through the blurry shift of colours and textures, breathing deeply the mingling scents that had enhanced the palette of his childhood. With no barrier between the swaying grasslands and pockets of forest before them, the perfume of happy memories was free to waft over him. “I am home.” He choked out quietly, thankfully unheard and unnoticed by his human companions.
The trio stepped disbelievingly into the swaying grass fields that rolled gently into the distant farmlands and good size cluster of homes, under the beating heat and shine of a supernatural sun. As Grant and Sypha had already done, Trevor removed his snow shoes and strapped them back to his pack, even going so far as to undress to remove his thick gold-adorned sweater and redress back to being battle ready. There was no need, but they did not trust that yet. That a place where Dracula's curse would not touch, where night hoards never ransacked, and people never murdered out of desperation for waning supplies could exist was unfathomable. That a place where it was eternally summer, game was plentiful, and crops flourished was unfathomable. That Dracula, scourge of all life itself could shelter this pocket of tranquility was unfathomable. But here it was. It was real. They were standing in it. In the distance they could see other humans driving oxen and working their fields, oblivious yet to the visitors to their secluded paradise.
Stepping further out into the open hills and gullies, Sypha let the cloak she'd been borrowing from him since the cemetery slip free to the ground unknowingly, lost as she was in the sight before her. “It... This is not a dream.” Her small voice quavered. “I sense no illusion. This grass is real. These trees and brush are real. Those people and animals... they must be real. But it's not summer? How can this sun be so warm?”
“Time has ceased to progress here.” He reminded his companions. It had been over a month since he'd last explained the peculiarities of Lupu. “What is in the sphere of influence is all real. It has been this way for almost two hundred years. What is not real is the sphere itself. The passing of day and night are simply memories constructed to help ease the minds of the people living here. At first it was eternally daylight, but my father found the endlessness drove the citizens here a little... batty. The rains come for half a day every eighth day, but every now and then it will rain all night on a whim. A certain quirk in the spell to keep up some sense of variety. Same with the clouds, the windy days, the clear skies. Each on a schedule with a little bit of randomness thrown in to change things up. The people cannot leave the barrier, just as you could not enter, but wildlife comes and goes as they please, also to change up the environment a little. Plants will grow when planted, but children will not be conceived. There are no diseases, not for crops or humans. Children have been children for near two centuries. The elderly have been feeble for just as long. Cruel that is, I have always found. Nothing about the people ever changes. There has been only one death since the village was cut off from the world, and that was of a man whose betrothed was from another village. He took his life when he realized she had likely passed on years before.” With a sweeping motion to the village in the distance he finished. “I welcome you to Lupu... Where the living never change and the dead stay in their graves.”
“This place...” Grant started with wonderment. “This placed is the most cursed place that has ever existed.” He finished with grim finality.
“If we stay here will we become like them? Hypothetically, of course.” Trevor asked quietly.
“You already are.” He replied. “How does it feel to be immortal?”
The Hunter fell silent and pondered his reply. It was yet another famous Belmont Pause, but the private glee of witnessing it was overridden by his deep curiosity of exactly what the Hunter's reply would entail. Did immortality offend him as it did other humans? That very thing that they all coveted yet could only achieve through the grievous sin of renouncing their humanity? It was what separated the virtuous from the villainous. Vampyrism was in itself basically a fist shaken angrily at the heavens above. Saliva spat disgustedly in the eyes of God. Immortality was a perversion when it was in the hands of anything but an all seeing deity. But it was a god Trevor had no faith in, for the man idolized himself, and not in a narcissistic fashion. So Alucard waited with baited breath, forcing himself not to entertain fancies of turning the human into one of his own while he waited, because once the idea was firmly in place and not a passing fancy, there was no telling what lengths he would go to to convince Trevor Belmont to stay with him for eternity.
“Well...” The Hunter began tentatively. “I must have been coming down with another sickness because I feel much more alert and refreshed than I did before stepping in this bubble. Yet my muscles still ache from overuse and I am still famished. I could lay down and go to sleep in a heartbeat in this warm sunlight, real or not.”
“Yes... Being immortal is not being invincible. You still must care for your body, feeding when you hunger and resting when you are exhausted. But beyond seeking out these basic needs, as you already have done your whole life, or being grievously harmed through an outside means, you will continue eternally.”
“So I could not fight forever.”
“Not endlessly without rest, no. But you could hunt the demons in the dark for eons as you do now. Just as you are now. Forever.”
“There are no demons here. Present company excluded.” The Hunter replied. “I am eager to ask the people of Lupu how they are enjoying this immortality. I wonder what it is like to have nothing to strive for or work against. An easy life is every man's dream... Mine included. But you know what they say about being careful what you wish for. What is it like to wake up every morning with no surprises?”
“Alucard...” Sypha interjected with mild suspicion. “You sound as if you are trying to convince the poor boy of something, yes?”
He shook his head and smiled to dissuade her line of questioning. “I was simply curious what it felt like for a mortal to become immortal. I was too young to ask when the people here first changed. What about you, dear Mage?”
“My skin is crawling, actually.” She replied curtly. “It seems my innate arcane senses cannot reconcile the change in my body. I feel unnatural, and I sense unnaturalness within the confines of my being, regardless of how serene and real the landscape I am looking at is to me. It simply is not meant to be... Yet it is.”
When his gaze turned to the Rogue the man emphatically reiterated his earlier conclusion. “This place is cursed, and now I am cursed too.” But as an afterthought, he added. “Perhaps if I was Trevor's age the idea of being youthful and in my prime for eternity would be more tempting. Being a sinewy aged man forever would be a nightmare. So as pretty as this is, and as soul soothing it is to see a place not blemished by Dracula's curse... It's not really that at all. This place is also cursed, and I am living a nightmare.”
“I see.” He replied neutrally, masking his disappointment as best he could. It had not occurred to him exactly how excited he had been to show his first friends his home, and certainly it had not crossed his mind how hurt he would be when they saw little difference between this place and what was beyond the barrier, not when all he saw was peace and serenity. Still pushing his feelings tightly down he started off in the direction of the village, unable to quite look them in the eyes, lest a stray tear or two escape. “Well... cursed or not, you are safe here for as long as we stay within the sphere. We will find whatever you need supply-wise in town, though you will have to trade for some. Only a few people accept gold, and then only to melt it down and make other things with it. My home and garden will have most of what you need, however, so perhaps it will be better to wait and see what you are missing?”
“So this is the last place of respite then, hmm.” Trevor wondered out loud. “After this it's straight through the Castle.”
“That is true.” Alucard replied, striding further ahead. “Mend, feed and rest your bodies while you are here, for as long as you need. There will be no other chance after this... My father will know the moment we set foot outside Lupu, and he will be ready for you. Follow along... And forgive the townspeople their oddities. They are much older than humans have a right to be.”
*****
December 1476 ~ Beyond the Gates of Lupu
Once the procession of people calling out to 'The Son' and grovelling at Alucard's feet died down, the perplexed people of Lupu attempted to return to their business as usual, unsure what to do with the forgotten rush in their bodies that was excitement. It had become a foreign concept to them after all this time. The Dhampyre attempted to explain how over the many many years of isolation the people of the village's views about just how and why they were in the situation they currently were had warped. His father sparing them for burying his mother had become his mother perishing nobly to ward her people from Dracula. His half Vampyre lineage and visage had gone from demonic to angelic, the silver hair and pale skin viewed as heaven-sent, and not hellspawn. That they could see through his glamour and voiced his true features in their praise thankfully only seemed to further perplex his companions, as Grant wondered privately what was wrong with everyone's eyesight. Alucard insisted that they did not worship him when Sypha voiced out loud if such was the case, but admit they did sort of revere him a smidge on account of his mother being their saviour, and his blood relation to her. Only because they considered themselves children of Lisa as well. The maternal protecting figure of which a statue was erected in both the town square and above her grave. Statues that were wiped down every morning and prayed too twice daily. He was very clear when explaining this confusion was all on account of human minds being alive longer than human minds had a right to be, and that he did not take their near worship to his head. That still did not prevent all three of them from calling him Vampyre Jesus for the remainder of the day when they thought he wasn't within earshot. Brats.
After the rabble thinned out, the humans grew comfortable enough to venture a little out on their own. Sypha was doted on by older women thinking she was a young boy, but once the myriad of sweets materialized the Mage didn't seem to mind playing the hungry growing boy who just loved being precocious and charming when her belly was full. Grant was quickly absorbed into a crowd of young and middle aged men, all eager to hear stories of the outside world, nodding to themselves about how blessed they were when the Rogue held nothing back about the terrible state beyond this sunny little village. Once the free ale and wine materialized, the Rogue didn't seem to mind playing the bard for his new best friends, letting himself be dragged off inside of a pub to tell his stories in comfort. Trevor elected to wander deeper into the heart of the village, towards to fountain square, to get a better look at the statue of his mother. Which was where Alucard slowly followed after, finding the Hunter exactly where he said he'd be, if not how he imagined he'd be.
Gathered around the village fountain, or more specifically the Hunter, was a gaggle of village girls from knee high to cusp of womanhood. They shyly asked him questions followed by titters that moved like a wave through the growing crowd. For every inquiry he replied to they drew in closer to this new man in their midst, rapt. Having looked upon the same faces for almost two centuries Alucard could not blame any one of them for being swept up by this wonderfully unfamiliar handsome face, and the Hunter's gentle charms. A small girl sat on his knee that he wowed with sleight of hand, pulling a folded piece of parchment shaped like a flower seemingly from out her curls. Alucard had had no idea he could do tricks like that, and wondered what more there was to learn about the Hunter during times of peace. She giggled and Trevor smiled. Innocent on his part, but that little girl was well over a hundred and eighty. Regardless of how she looked and the capacity for her brain to fully develop into an adults under the stillness of time, that was not a little girl in Trevor's lap. The surrounding women in the crowd looked on with envy at his oblivious open affection for what he thought was just a cute kid with lovely little ringlets in her hair.
Moving to perch out of direct sight on the fountain stone, Alucard listened to Trevor tell them he was a Vampyre Hunter on a journey to the Castle, a claim that caused a wave of gasps and whispering followed by insistent pleading he do no such thing. The girls took turns telling him harrowing tales of the things Dracula had done. The cruelty and mercilessness of his revenge. Of bodies torn apart and strewn before loved ones. Oh, how could one such as handsome and gallant as this brunette stranger throw his life away like that, and also was he married, or did he have a girl waiting for him in another village? Did he like sweets, for someones mother had just baked apple and raspberry pies. Was he hungry, because it was almost time for a midday meal and several mothers would be more than happy to invite him to their tables. Did he want to take a walk and see the town? Was he staying here long? How did he know Lisa's son? Was he sent here by Lisa to show them they were still safe from Dracula? Was he really going to head to the Castle and face the Devil himself? And of course, roundabout back to how they wished ever so much he would not do something so dangerous, and what was that strange accent of his from? Did he have a wife or not?
Trevor seemed amused by this growing harem, but also a little overwhelmed with their ferver. The poor boy likely hadn't a thought cross his mind what being an eligible bachelor walking into such a supernaturally remote village would entail. Were Sypha's gender discovered the poor girl would be beating the desperate young men off with her staff left and right. The pair may as well hang a fresh meat sign around their necks and call it a day. Alucard's hearty deep laughter put an end to the rapid fire questions and drew all eyes to him as he walked through the parting crowd of young women to stand by Trevor. The Hunter stood to meet him, little girl who was not really little hoisted to rest on his hip. After another envious wave of mutterings over the curly haired girl's luck, they fell mostly silent.
“My friend has travelled a long way, dear ladies, and he is rather exhausted. Pray, give him some time and space to recover and I am certain he will be ready to answer whatever questions you have for him.” He made a sweeping gesture so as to include them all. “Back to your business with you. I'm sure your mother's are waiting.”
“Yes, of course. We apologize.” Several girls answered quickly, pulling at each others dress sleeves to get the slower ones moving, though all were reluctant to leave the Hunter's company.
As they continued to disperse back into the village proper Alucard narrowed his eyes at the ball of ringlets in Trevor's arms and gave her a tight smile, laced with jealousy. “You too, short stuff.”
“Adrian.” Trevor chastised.
“You're no fun, Alucard.” The girl scoffed, and wiggled free of Trevor to join her distant friends.
“She is almost as old as I am.” Alucard tried to justify. “She was using her appearance to her advantage, and you fell for it. You just bounced an old hag on your knee, you know?”
The Hunter opened his mouth to argue but faltered. “I guess... I'll have to keep that in mind. Everyone here is almost as or older than you are. Still that being said... It's hard to look at a child and remember that she is older than my Aunt. She certainly acted like a child. Tantrum and all.” The Hunter pondered silently for a moment, turning back to the statue of Lisa in the fountain. “In fact they all acted like such young girls, it's uncanny. We are meant to grow from our experiences but I doubt they are getting very many experiences in a place like this. I suppose that is why...” The Hunter turned to him and gave a sad small smile. “Grant is right about this village. What a nightmare it must be to forever be a child.”
“I see,” He looked away, up at his mother's serene stone chiselled face. “You... don't find it peaceful here though? That they know no fear or hunger or disease is not a calming thought? Nobody starves to death or fights over scraps of vegetables in Lupu.”
The Hunter paused, a long one this time. “I am of two minds.” He said simply. Only elaborating when he realized Alucard was staring at him, perhaps a touch of desperation clear in his eyes. “I know that this is unnatural. We are made to move forward, not stagnate in place. That is just what it means to be alive, I suppose. But it is also very seductive to me. One part of me wants to free these villagers so they may become the people they are being kept from becoming, though it may be too late for them to even remember what they were before Dracula's protection. The other part of me want to hightail it back to Wallachia and bring my children here so nothing will ever hurt them. Yet that would be saving them from one damnation by damning them another way. But they would never be afraid here? It's very... conflicting.” In spite of Alucard's best effort to remain neutral, Trevor perceived the hurt his words were causing and his tone softened even more. “Your village is very beautiful, Adrian. The people here must be wonderful as Dracula has spared them, in spite of being so far gone as you claim he is. It must be comforting to have this place be unchanged, forever falling in line with the happy memories of your childhood. It's not theirs or your fault for what Dracula has perverted. And it is not wrong of you to find comfort in what has been created here. It's not wrong of me to be tempted by what is offered here either. We all deserve to wake up feeling safe. This is a haven.”
“As always you have made valid points.” Alucard replied. “I am going to the graveyard temple to see my mother. When you track down our companions you may find me there, and together we will go to my home. Try not to get snatched up and married by an old woman in a young woman's body, will you?” The Dhampyre did not wait for Trevor to reply, leaving the Hunter by the beautifully simple fountain.
The path to Lisa's small shrine was a well worn one. Countless times a week someone made their way up the stairs to clean out dying or dried flowers, old offerings, and place new ones. Alucard carried no such offerings, as his mother would have not wished what had become of her final resting place. She had just wanted to help people to help themselves. Their lives could have been so much better if their minds were not so closed, and it drove her nearly insane trying to argue the point. Inside the shrine was well lit, her ornate sealed coffin resting at the feet of her marble likeness. This statue far more detailed than the stone one outside in the square, for his father had saw too it's construction, though both were equally prized. Marble likeness wore a serene expression, her chiselled fabric falling far too lifelike for proper words with her hand extended out gently, forever in the act of offering... What was she offering, he had wondered as a boy. Perhaps whatever it was you were seeking? His father was oddly sentimental about some things. Alucard stepped over the tokens left by the townspeople and enveloped that offering hand with his own, meeting his mother's marble eyes. All they were missing was the colour.
“Do you recall when your hand was so much larger than mine, mother?” He mused sadly. “I didn't quite grow as large as father like you'd speculated, but I filled in rather nicely, I think.”
Of course the statue said nothing, but if he tried hard enough he could imagine Lisa's eyes softening. She never compared him to his father because he was his own person. Could she speak, she'd likely tell him he was exactly as he should be and to be proud of that. He was always her Adrian. What he chose to do with the things she was teaching him was always going to be left entirely in his hands. Her project had been to change one man for the better, and in her eyes she had succeeded with his father. In Lisa Țepeș' eyes everything was always going to be for the better. Which was exactly why he had been so keen to come here, to see her, even if it was a carved stone version of her.
“Mother... I came to tell you that your teachings were not in vain. My father has forgotten your dream of a world where sound minds prevail over petty superstitions and ignorance. He has done terrible things... Unspeakable things in your name. So have I. For a long time I have aided him in the ruthless murder of people who never knew your name. When it became too much I still stood idly by while he continued to rage against a world that could not remember you. But I remember you, Mother. I remember you telling me people fear because they do not know, and that if I could change one person I too would understand such an act is all it takes to make a difference in the world for the better. Well... I must confess I haven't changed a person. Another has changed me.” It was silly, this was a statue after all. But it felt freeing to tell her, even if she would never respond. Almost nervously he continued his confession to his mother's serene smiling face. “There is a man who has befriended me, who reminds me of your ideals with every actions he takes. A hunter of my kind specifically yet he calls me his friend. He kills my brethren in defence yet I have seen him walk by demons and hellspawn alike, content to let them exist so long as they are not hurting anybody. He gives me hope that there can be some common ground between humans and demons. That there could be some kind of armistice reached so that both sides are not killing each other on sight. We all deserve our right to live. It's just an egg of an idea right now... But I think if I committed myself to the cause I could come up with a way to start building those bridges. I want to protect what is good in the world, whether that be human or my kind. I think... I think if I stay with this man I will find the answer. I know he would help me find the right path. It might just be the one he is walking now, and he may not even know it yet.”
The Dhampyre released the marble hand and turned away from her face. He was getting too emotional, talking to no one in reality. Words kept falling from his lips, however, and he slid slowly down to the floor, his back against the casket of his dearly departed mother. “We are a group comprised of a church lauded Vampyre Hunter, a witch, a criminal, and a demon. Yet we have come so far together, and we will go further still. We mean to free father from his misery, and the land you loved so much from his tyranny. After that... I mean to find that answer. I also mean to stay by this man's side. Mother...” So silly, he was being. Nobody was here but his entombed mother's empty husk and why was he crying when he felt so hopeful? “I have found love, Mother. I am in love with this man. I am so happy when I am in his presence... I never thought I would be happy again after you were taken from me. But I am so afraid too... To love him means to be with him, and he means to be out in the world leaving his mark upon it. To love him is to be out there too, showing the world what I am and inviting the scorn and fear of the ignorant. But isn't that what you tried to do as well? Show the world that man and demon could coexist, and even become family? Perhaps you have had my answer all along, Mother... How were you so brave? I love him but I am terrified of what that entails. Were you afraid of what loving my father entailed? Did you know it was going to end the way it did?”
Choking back sobs now, he turned to embrace the coffin. The polished wood was cool against his hot face, and welcoming. “What if history repeats itself? He has children... What if his acceptance of me brings a murderous mob to their door? What if those two little boys are forced to relive the tragedy I have, and they are helpless watching their father burn at the stake? Yet I must wonder and hope too, what if history can be learned from? What if what your death has wrought has taught the people of these lands that acting out of fear only begets more fear?” The Dhampyre wiped at his tears and sat back down against the smooth wood, staring out at the village through the carved arching doorway. “I wish I could keep him here with me forever. Nobody would bother us... Nobody would be afraid of me. He'd be protected and treasured, and I would spend every day proving my love to him. He would not accept the proposition though. His life needs challenge and purpose, and hiding away here from a hateful world is not either of those things. I guess I have no choice but to follow him out into the frightening daylight.”
When the last of his words echoed off the stone walls, silence reigned. It was not unwelcome, and Alucard was thankful for the stillness as it gave him the chance to better compose himself. It was all coming to a head faster than he was prepared for. To put an end to his father and lose not only the last member of his family, but this place that he called home as well was terrifying. He was going to destroy it all for the sake of a better world at the risk that he may find no place for himself in the new one he was ushering in. If Trevor did not want him, then he was going to be all alone. But if Trevor did want him, then he was going to be the risk that destroyed what little the young Hunter had left. Trevor Belmont was the man he loved, though, and nothing was ever going to change that. Round and round again, these thoughts and fears were endless. Trevor Belmont... Tragedy... Both?
“Speak of the devil...” He murmured, hearing the confident near boastful tone in that rich voice he could pick out in a crowd. To think the sound of the Hunter's voice had agitated him not too long ago while now it was the only thing he ever wanted to hear. Trevor and their companions were climbing the stairs to the shrine, evidently in good humour, so Alucard wiped at his face one last time to ensure the evidence of his emotions were cleared away. “Here he comes, Mother. The man who has changed me so drastically.”
Grant and Sypha were the first to step into the well lit circular room. Their good cheer mellowed fast, no doubt picking up on the sombre mood the Dhampyre was in. Respectfully, Sypha lowered her hood and Grant removed his bandana. In their arms were wildflowers and tiny bite size honey cakes. They were things his mother loved, and the pair set them gently down alongside the other offerings before the casket. The townspeople must have been quite chatty with their new guests.
“Hello, Alucard.” Sypha greeted him softly. “I came to pay my respects to the woman who I have been hearing endless stories about. All of them are good... She sounds like an admiral figure indeed.”
“I, as well.” Grant agreed. “Lisa Țepeș, saviour of hundreds of people through her timely administration of medicine, and a woman who has delivered dozens of healthy babies into the world. She never turned a person in need away from her door, be they outcast or criminal. A modern day saint, your mother was.”
His friends brought a small smile to his lips and he thanked them for that earnestly. “Where is Trouble? I thought I heard him.”
“I am here.” Trevor announced himself, ducking under the arch, and asked rather bluntly. “Have you been crying?”
“Trevor Belmont, you insensitive child!” Sypha hissed, going so far as to pull one of her boots free to throw it at him. “Respect this shrine, it belongs to his family. Of course he'd weep for his own damn mother, you crass fool!”
“How is tossing about your filthy footwear being respectful of this space, Sypha?” Trevor retorted, tossing her boot out the door and somewhere down the stairs by the ensuing thud. “I am not getting that for you later either.”
“So that means I have to go get it later then.” Grant sighed. “You know she's not going to.”
“Sorry, brother.” Trevor offered as a small solace. The Hunter returned his gaze to Alucard and stepped over the ring of gifts, crouching down before him. “You don't have to cry or be sad anymore. I am right here.” The Hunter said so matter of factually Alucard actually burst out laughing.
It was a wonderful feeling. “You are exactly the man I needed to see right now, Trevor. I mean that.” When the Hunter reached out to wipe the sole tear he'd missed away, the whole water production nearly started again. He supposed he now had the answer to that question posed back when they'd escaped the Sunken City of Poltergeists. If he cried, Trevor would indeed wipe his tears away just as he had for Sypha. “You have no offering.” Alucard asked instead, to distract himself from his emotions.
The Hunter's pale blue eyes twinkled in the torchlight. “Ahh, but I do. I have come to offer a promise to the mother of my dear friend, if he will permit me.”
“I'll allow it... What do you wish to promise her?”
Trevor's jovial grin firmed into a serious line, those twinkling eyes hardening with that conviction that had first pulled on Alucard's heartstrings. “I want to promise her that I will send her husband to her side in the afterlife as quickly and painlessly as I possibly can. There has been more than enough suffering for far too long by far too many people, Dracula included. I don't want any more suffering... I haven't the stomach for it.”
Alucard stared up into those pale blue eyes, lost in the confidence he found within them. “She wouldn't want him to live how he has been living, or hurt how he has been hurting. That is a fine promise, Trevor... I thank you for that from myself as well.”
“It's going to be hard, but you won't be alone.” Trevor promised him, and him alone.
This too left the Dhampyre with a wondrous feeling like no other he had ever experienced. He looked around the room and could see the sentiments echoed in Grant and Sypha's faces. His friends. He would never be alone so long as he had these friends. Touched beyond words, he made an offering of his own. “Would you all like to come to my house for dinner?”
Trevor glanced over his shoulder at the other two and nodded his head. “Yes, I think we would love that.”
Chapter 19: A Meeting of Two Belmonts
Chapter Text
July 2037 ~ Suginami ward, Tokyo
“You are very twitchy, Yoko.” Julius observed in a very passive tone, the elder hunter effortlessly outpacing her down the hospital halls. If only because of his freaky long legs and Belmont stamina, age be damned. “I am sensing you are perhaps concerned about this little visit, but I assure you I just want to introduce myself to him. It will make working with him much easier if I am not the shadowy figure standing in the threshold.”
Julius was right on the money, as per usual. This little visit was indeed making her fidget like a preschooler denied a bathroom break and with damn good reason. Over the course of a week and a half she had been visiting the cave boy with and without Alucard present, and in all that time she had learned very little as far as who he was or where he came from or the life he'd lived back in the late fourteen hundreds, but that wasn't to say she hadn't been able to learn a lot about the kind of person Trevor Belmont was. The boy possessed a razor sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, yet he tempered it with an almost aggressive charm, and she found him capable of manipulating people even through language barriers. It wasn't even with any obvious malicious intent, which made it all the more unnerving. It was like he made people do what he wanted almost mindlessly, because you wanted to do him a favour. He could appear so sweet and in need of your help, how could you not? And you know, maybe he really was that sweet when he wanted to be, but Yoko had seen the steel just beneath the surface. Hammer had also been right on the money, for Trevor was a collared beast biding his time. In short, he was dangerous and emotional instability gave him an extremely short fuse. Now couple that with how much Julius liked to light matches just to see what he'd find...
She'd been filling her mentor in on her little visits when he asked and gave him the longest briefing of her life on their bus ride over, but she couldn't exactly say how much of her concern Julius had registered. The elder Belmont was also a powerful personality, a force of nature unto himself if she was being dramatic, and who could say some alpha male bullshit wasn't about to go down? It would have a disastrous outcome if such a testosterone-off arose, and that she was for damn certain. Trevor didn't seem to play well with other boys, and the more she thought about it, barring a few exceptions, neither did Julius. Hell, maybe all Belmonts were like this. How would she know? Maybe asking Alucard would be a good idea... The man had known more then his fair share in his day.
“Well, “ Yoko huffed, struggling to keep up. Why were Julius' legs so long? “I am not worried you are going to go crazy on him and demand to know if he is a fake. It's just that you have to be gentle with him, I think.” Gulping down a few breaths she continued. “He's super volatile. He seems like he's calm and composed, but you can see in his eyes that, like, his memories or thoughts are touching on unpleasant things that he may or may not remember clearly and it puts him right on edge.” Sorceress tried her best to explain. “And then you add Alucard to the mix and it's just highly flammable. Alucard seems to be the only person who can relax him into talking but at the same time Al seems to exacerbate the mood swings.”
“I thought you said he liked you?” Julius raised a brow.
Well at least now Yoko knew she was a part of Jules' game plan. “I think he does. But unless Alucard is there, he is extremely tight lipped. Nothing but polite small talk and him asking you a bunch of questions. He won't answer a damn thing.” Yoko went on to describe how unreadable his simple polite smiles were when she tried to pry every time Alucard made a run for coffee or to get fresh air. At one point she even got desperate to get anything out of the boy and asked him what his favourite colour was. He'd simply tilted his head and asked her if she thought everyone saw colours exactly the same. “I even asked him if he preferred daytime or nighttime and he just told me since the moon and the sun are always in the sky the concept was relative. Like who even thinks like that?”
At the very least Julius got a kick out of her exasperation. The older man chuckled and then sighed. “I think I am going to love this kid.”
Yoko scoffed but soon relented the more she thought about it. “Oh my God, he is you, isn't he?” Julius started to chuckle again and Yoko moaned. “Is this like a genetic quirk of you Belmonts? You're all exasperating? You all are smug? Please tell me I am not going to get the righteous Belmont 'tude in stereo?”
“I can make no promises on that. I will promise you that I will handle him with the kiddiest gloves that have ever kid gloved. We're talking ribbons and sequins in a balloon pattern gloves. I will not demand any answers out of him, I will not ask him anything about the cave or the witch or how he got those cuts. I'm not going to ask him about his family, his friends, his defeat of Dracula, or how long he has been banging our Dhampyre friend. I am just going to introduce myself and wish him a speedy recovery.”
It was Yoko's turn to raise an eyebrow, and she did, narrowing her eyes for good measure. Something about this was fishy. “You have the Vampyre Killer hidden beneath your coat. Not where you wear it.”
“It's a hospital, Yoko. No weapons allowed. Visibly.”
“You still were wearing it with the handle and loop easily accessible and partially seen every other time you have been here.” Yoko pondered out loud. “You don't want him to see the whip.” She concluded with certainty. “Because as far as he is concerned, he should still be in possession of it. Or the people who took him should be. And even if we said we retrieved it, he'd want it back... and you have no intention of letting him get his hands on it, do you?”
Julius gave her a quick grin and a firm nod in return. “You're getting much quicker at this detective line of thinking, Yoko. Indeed, his son inherited our family heirloom after Trevor vanished and the line of sacrificial lambs continued. It's rightfully mine now. The power of succession and all.”
“And here I always thought you'd be more than happy to give it up now that your family's millennia long pledge to defeat Dracula has finally been fulfilled.” The sorceress mused. “I guess it's not really the burden you made it out to be after all?”
“Not anymore.” Julius agreed. “Now it's my badge of honour. I paid thirty years of my life for this. It's mine.”
“What if he can like... sense it? You can find it in the dark, after all.”
“He can pry it from my cold dead hands if it comes to that. But so long as it doesn't, this is just a friendly visit. Stop worrying so much, or your nervousness will make him suspicious.” The old Hunter stopped just outside the boy in question's door, and gave her a reassuring smile. “We're just stopping by our friend's former lover's room to see how he is doing. That's all, Yoko.” And with that the elder hunter stepped through the door and left Yoko wringing her hands nervously outside. She followed him in after she composed herself as best she could.
The delay in her arrival gave her the unique opportunity to see just how Trevor Belmont's initial reaction to his ultra great grandson played out. The brunette had been shockingly solo in the room, reclined in his raised bed with both hands free of shackles and busy filing his perfectly manicured nails. So not only was he free to move and alone to act without Alucard's interference, but the goddamn Terror of Tokyo was also armed. Pale blue eyes widened a little at the unfamiliar intruder into his space, but the widening was not in fear, but careful observation. He looked Julius from toe up to head and settled somewhere around the older man's belt, causing Yoko to nearly exclaim right there and then that Trevor knew Julius had his whip. But in reality, he probably just could tell the way Julius moved and stood, that he was a hunter and an armed one as well. After sizing Julius up, the younger hunter made a somewhat flourishing move to sit up, which would have distracted anybody who was not an experienced hunter or very perceptive from the fact that the nail file was palmed, and probably ready to lash out in either throat or eye gouging fashion. Trevor showed no outward fear or concern about this stranger, but she was certain there was nothing Julius would be able to do that wouldn't be met with the same ferocious retaliation he had demonstrated being capable of time and time again. Thankfully, a moment before things got too tense he noticed her entering on Julius' heels, and his face warmed considerably.
“Hello, Yoko.” He greeted genuinely warm. “Am I to assume this is the other partner of yours?”
“Hello, Trevor.” She greeted in kind. “You assume correctly. This is our other hunter friend Julius.” With a hand gesture she welcomed the two to shake hands. “Julius, this is Trevor. Trevor, our third musketeer and defacto leader.”
“It's really more of an equal partnership.” Julius explained in a smooth tone, still gripping the boy's hand. “You were unconscious when I last saw you, Trevor, so I am glad to see you are making a quick recovery. Have they been treating you all right here?”
The boy tilted his head and studied the older hunter, almost as if he was trying to figure out if he'd met Julius before. Which duh, he super had. Every time he looked in the mirror. “I get three square meals a day and I don't have to do anything to get them. I have been in worse prison cells.”
The response made Julius laugh, and he even went so far to clap the younger man on the back. “That's the spirit. I heard through the grapevine that you might be released from your prison sentence soon, so hang in there.”
“The grapevine..?” The brunette tilted his head the other way and shook it when he could not puzzle out the idiom. Trevor was still peering up at Julius like he should recognize the older man when he said. “I believe I have been waiting to meet you in particular, Julius.” The statement stole Julius jovial grin. “You are a traditional hunter?” He asked, gaze lowering to the forearm attached to the hand that still captured his own. “ You certainly have the look. Your eyes betray nothing, so I know you must have great experience and a lot of battle scars. If I had to guess... you must use something quick. Knives... A whip perhaps?”
Yoko's felt her eyes would probably fall out of her head. But Julius, cool as a cucumber only nodded and finally released the boy's hand.
“You are very perceptive, young Trevor. My clan is well known for out mastery of such weapons. I guess we have that in common.” The boy however did not rise to the bait. He didn't ask which clan Julius belonged to, he didn't ask how Julius was so familiar with him, and he didn't even show a hint of the suspicion he must have been feeling. The boy had his own game plan in mind and Julius was apparently the prey. Sensing that Trevor was not going to play by Julius' rules, Julius changed tactics in such an easy way you could not be faulted for believing it wasn't a calculated move. “I am a little surprised Alucard is not here. He's been at your bedside for weeks now. We were actually hoping to meet up with him and go over some business.”
“Are you his keeper, or do you just like to know where all your friends are at any given moment? It matters not. As you can see, he is not here.” Trevor confirmed, but said nothing else. Yoko wanted to nudge Julius and say 'see' over and over again, but that would have been the opposite of helpful.
Ignoring the jibe, Julius smiled down at the younger hunter for some time before he let out a hearty laugh. “I could have used someone like you back in the war. You guard your friend very well, and your loyalty has been noted. But he is our friend just as well... Would it be all right for us to wait for him here?”
The brunette's eyes betrayed nothing. “Who am I to dictate what you can and cannot do, Julius? Yoko is welcome and your presence does not bother me, but your attempts at prodding will not get you anywhere... Unless you'd like to answer something for me in exchange? As a new friend?”
“Julius, remember what I told you.” Yoko warned in English so the boy would not understand. “He's got a weapon and I think he's about to blow.”
The elder hunter's jovial exterior stiffened a little, but unlike Trevor, he opted to take the bait after some consideration. Or light a match. Who could say? “What do you want to know?”
Yoko had an unsettling feeling in her stomach when something she couldn't quite discern flashed through the pale blue eyes staring down their descendent. Her training kicked in and she couldn't help noticing the tautness of the brunette's tendons, his firm jaw, unwavering gaze, and slightly hastening breath. It was ten seconds and counting to critical overload, and surely Julius could see the confrontation coming head on as well.
“Our mutual friend has burns on his arm, his chest and coiled around his neck. Branded by a holy weapon, or something consecrated and silver. Most likely by a whip, I would have to say. Did you give him those burns?” The young hunter inquired in an eerily level tone.
Julius was quiet for a while, but not too long a while before he fessed up, and Yoko feared this would set the Terror of Tokyo off. Strangely, Trevor heard Julius' confession out with no visible change to his temper.
“Yes, I was the one who branded him. He had a moment while you were still injured and unconscious where he acted positively feral and attacked us for being too close to you. He was burned when I used my weapon to contain him long enough for his better judgment to resurface. He was understandably very protective of you, and the outburst has been forgiven.”
“So you say...” Trevor contemplated the explanation and shook his head. “Then why are the burns in different stages of recovery? They are three separate incidents. Are you going to tell me he went feral three times?”
“Just the one time.” Yoko interjected, not liking how the conversation was going. She had seen Trevor Belmont bait and reel Alucard in with seemingly calm inquiries a dozen times the past three weeks, and he'd only really been awake for one of them. She was not going to stand here and let the tiny terror reel Julius into an altercation that goddess knows would have what collateral damage. “The one on his wrist is the oldest, from when I was being attacked by a Vampyre and he got in between the Vampyre and Julius, who was defending me. The one across his chest is the newest, from last week, while we were chasing this tree monster in the forest. It climbed up to perch on Alucard and when Julius tried to grab it, it scurried behind Alucard and a tree and our buddy got struck instead. That was an honest mistake. The first time he intentionally protected the Vampyre so it wouldn't freak out and try to kill us all. A noble sacrifice.” She felt like she was rambling and maybe she was, but honestly she did not need another Trevor related violent outburst. “It's very sweet of you to be as protective of him as he has been of you, but what I am telling you is the truth. I have worked with these men for years now. They are great friends.”
“Really?” Trevor asked her, his blue eyes keeping her poleaxed.
“Yes, really. For the love of all that is good, will you please stand down? Call off the dogs of war, or whatever? I just wanted to see how you were doing, not start a brawl.”
Surprisingly her pathetic whining actually worked and the younger hunter threw up his hands in surrender. Maybe it was some chivalrous things she was not aware of. “I don't believe you would lie to me, Yoko, so please be at ease. I will ask him when I see him about it later. I am certain he will tell me the same story.” What would happen if the stories did not match up was never touched upon. “Sometimes friends fight. Especially good friends. Sometimes good friends fight the nastiest battles... It comes with knowing what will hurt your opponent the most.” Trevor mused, but then realizing he was being helpful and communicative without the only person he did trust around, he quickly resumed his placid unreadable demeanour. “Thank you for answering honestly, Julius. It has helped me decide what kind of a man you are.”
“I suppose I should thank you for getting right to the point. I hate wasting time, and this could have been an exhausting dance.” Julius sighed, but he did not seem too put off by what had gone down. Rather he seemed paradoxically pleased. “You don't have to say anything, and I am certain you won't... But I want to tell you in just this brief meeting, I have come to understand a little of why my friend is so enamoured with you.”
True to Julius' assumption, Trevor Belmont pursed his lips and only smiled politely.
Now it was Yoko who was the one lighting matches because as soon as the thought popped into her head, her fool mouth ran. “Didn't you explicitly tell Alucard he was not your bodyguard? Or something along the lines of he can't fight your battles unless it's at your side or whatever?”
“I don't want or need one. Evidently, he does.” Trevor replied simply. “Or perhaps he needs more careful friends who can control their holy weapons.”
“That's enough.” Yoko stressed, stomping her heeled foot for good measure. “No more squabbling. It was an accident, case closed. Or shall I remind you of your recent stabbing incident? You didn't mean to, I am sure. But you wanted to, and you did.”
Now it was the brunette who was chuckling softly, and Yoko inhaled deeply to remain calm. “You remind me just now of your distant relative Sypha. You truly are a Belnades.”
“Can I use your nail file? I chipped a nail in my rage.” Yoko ventured, hoping to remove the hidden threat from the complicated Trevor equation.
Trevor gave her a knowing look and beckoned her closer, which she complied with against her better judgment. When she was close enough, he reached out with a flourish and pulled the file from out the hair tucked behind her ear and handed it to her. “There. Now that I am at a disadvantage, will you please ease yourself? It is not healthy for a young woman to be so stressed.”
“You are the one stressing me out.” She muttered, exasperated. “Did you fight with all the boys growing up or is this just a bad habit you picked up along the way to adulthood?”
“How would you determine what is a bad habit? Is there a specific criteria I am unaware of?”
Yoko threw up her hands and let out the longest groan of her life all while Julius laughed harder than she had ever heard him laugh in that same time span. Why did the older man get such a kick out of this tiny tyrant? Oh wait, because he was the older tyrant. Double-damned Belmonts, for real. But really, the nail-biting tension had finally dissipated from the room, and if Yoko's patience was the only price paid to avoid a Belmont beatdown, then she was fine with that. Begrudgingly. “Seriously now, do you know when Alucard will be back?” She asked after she'd regained some composure.
“He is not here, and that is all I know.” Trevor reiterated. “I for certain, am not his keeper... I apologize that you find my company insufficient, but I am not much of a host. I don't entertain guests well. That was more my wife's forte, to be honest. Perhaps you can entertain me to pass the time while you wait?”
“You want to hear a particular story, I take it.” Julius surmised, nodding to himself when Trevor's smile returned. “You want to know how we came to work together, Yoko, Alucard and myself.”
“I would.” The younger hunter confessed.
“You ask a lot of questions for someone who is less than forthcoming, you know?”
“I do.” The young hunter confessed again, this time with a pleased smile.
“I am all right with that, in this instance.” Julius relented. “Yoko was in training under the Church until very recently, and she was the last to join our merry little band. Alucard and I met years ago when the Castle first appeared in these lands. I have gaps in my memory due to an encounter with a very powerful Vampyre and a sealing spell capable of containing such a Vampyre, but I recall him fighting by my side with unyielding loyalty. We were victorious and the Vampyre is forever gone from this world. Life as a hunter is sadly the only life I do know, and Alucard has aided me in my endeavours ever since. Just as I pitch in with his, and now Yoko aides us both.”
“That is not a very forthcoming tale, you know.” Trevor replied, but he seemed to accept the tight lipped tale in return for his own tight lipped responses. So at least he was fair about some things. “You must want to ask me about what I remember. You are hunting a witch.”
“Not now. When you are all better.” Julius dismissed him.
The boy let slip a frown, and Yoko clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from giving up the game. This visit it was Julius who was going in for the kill. Frankly a little taste of his own medicine might do the younger Belmont some good. And that wasn't just Yoko's built up annoyance with how disproportionately in Trevor's favour the power balance between Alucard and Trevor Belmont was, speaking. He was charming and intelligent and yes, even sweet when he wanted to be, but damn if he wasn't a sublime brat at all other times, with Alucard suffering at his mercy.
“Wouldn't it be better to act quickly? I understand there is a time sensitive angle to how long she will remain in these lands.” Trevor queried, still frowning slightly.
“Oh we are acting, don't worry. I just don't think you can help right now.”
“You...” Trevor's frown deepened before his features were wiped clean. “You are trying to make me feel like I have something to prove to you.”
“Don't you?” Julius asked instead of replying, Uno-reversing the Terror of Tokyo's tactic. “It wasn't me whose pride got them stabbed in the back, and whose overconfidence has landed them in a foreign land, completely helpless. It is not my petty anger that has me lashing out and tormenting a loved one. I have heard second hand what tale you have to tell, so what more would hashing it out with you accomplish? Unless you can tell me exactly where she kept you before you wound up in that underground cave? Give me a name? Give me a country she came from? Can you tell me how many she has under her wing, or how exactly she was using your blood for sacraments?”
The brunette actually shrank back a little under the assault, the first time Yoko had witnessed him give any ground. Biting his lower lip unconsciously, he simply shook his head and lowered his gaze.
“Well there we have it. I came only to meet the friend of my friend and wish you a speedy recovery, as this was a terrible thing to have done to you. You made it out with your life, so be grateful for that. Unless you have something more to add, don't worry about the witch. We will take care of things for you. But while we are on the subject, I would suggest you be a little more open to that bodyguard idea. If your pride had allowed you one, I don't think you would be sitting in this hospital bed right now. But here you are. Were I in your situation, I would not let my pride rob me of what could perhaps be my one and only lifeline.”
Oh. My. God. Yoko was beside herself. With no anger or violence exchanged, Julius had shut the kid's week long barely contained tantrum down hard. Who would have ever thought all Trevor needed was Papa Belmont to tell him he done wrong. He was where he was right now with no one else to blame but himself... The implication that perhaps he better be a little nicer to the one person who had his best interests at heart didn't need to be said, as far as Yoko was concerned. He was smart enough to make the connection. Then again... They didn't have the full story. Perhaps Julius didn't care for the whole story at this junction. If making the younger hunter feel useless and guilty for his predicament got them further along and a more cooperative witness, then perhaps that was all he was able to care about right now. Maybe he was hoping to make Trevor more desperate to help, and that his memory would be jogged? Ahh, who could really say?
It was at that moment the missing Dhampyre made a low-key entrance, only the crinkle of two plastic shopping bags rubbing against one another cluing the trio to his presence. Alucard dropped the bags off on the closest chair from the door and surveyed the room, picking up on the younger hunter's distress instantaneously. “Is everything all right?” He asked in a cautious tone, brushing past Yoko with a tight greeting smile to come to Trevor's bedside. “Did something happen?”
Trevor shook his head but did not speak until it became obvious the deeply concerned Alucard wasn't going to believe such a small non verbal cue. “Your friend Julius was just suggesting that I manage the frustration I am harbouring with my own failings in a more productive way, and less by misdirecting it in your direction.”
For a Dhampyre, Alucard sure could blanch of all the colour you'd never notice he had. “He...did what? I... have not say anything about your actions to him at all.”
“I know you wouldn't.” Trevor said soothingly. “You couldn't. That would be admitting I am less than your perfect image of me... But it would have been all right if you did, for he is correct. It is not fair to victimize you over such frustrations you have naught to do with. I have been in the wrong. That isn't to say my frustrations with what you did indeed do to me won't creep up... But I will endeavour to be more mature about that.”
Alucard looked ready to leap out the window to escape, but he nervously fixed himself in place. “...Oh?” Just how was it that such a large deep voiced man could sound so small, anyway?
“Adrian...” Trevor began. “How I have been acting has not been fair to you in many instances. I am deeply ashamed by that... I am just so angry at all hours without understanding why... But if I am unfair again, you can call me out on it. That's what friends do. I wish I could earn your forgiveness for what was not warranted.”
Yoko watched the Dhampyre chew his lower lip and hug himself, rocking back and forth on his heels while he fought to keep down various emotions that only briefly touched his visage. Truth be told, and she had been here enough times to watch the degradation in real time, these past few weeks spent caring for, babysitting, and fighting with Trevor had visibly worn the Dhampyre down to a raw stub of his former self. Sure, there had been some laughs and touching moments. Sure, they had gotten along while Alucard taught him about television and radios and electric lighting, or while he taught him about the New World, pop music, and junk food. Sure there had been real moments she had witnessed of them connecting in the way she was certain had first brought them together, but that undercurrent of hostility was never gone for long, and bearing the brunt of it without break had been hurting her friend in such a deep way, who could say how far the cuts ran?
“You can have my forgiveness for free. But if you are feeling generous... You could forgive me of my own indiscretions... The ones that actually warranted your ire these past few weeks.”
The young hunter made a small show of contemplating the offer, but he wore an easy smile that clearly showed it was all in jest. “I think that's a fair deal.”
“Umm...” Alucard shifted still nervously, but continued. “What can I bargain for to get you... You know... So you stop being so... mean?” He wouldn't meet the younger Belmont's eyes. “You were never cruel. It doesn't suite you at all.” He explained in a mumbled rush.
This made Trevor actually laugh, but Alucard only flinched at the sound, likely expecting a hurtful remark. “You are getting greedy now...” Trevor began with a chortle, but finished very softly, taking the Dhampyre's hand to draw his attention back to his face. “You can have that one on the house. For I have no wish and gain no pleasure by being cruel to you, and because I am proud of you for actually standing up for yourself where I am concerned.”
Freezing a moment to make sure this was not some elaborate prank at his expense, the Dhampyre's relief was visible when he flopped back into the nearest chair declaring in earnest. “I have no idea what happened here while I was gone, but thank you to all the parties involved. I think I was at my wits end. I didn't even know my wits had an end. I thought it was just an expression. Trevor Belmont, you have been an absolute menace at times, even if you had every right to be given what you've been through but by the gods and lords of hell alike, I have no idea how to handle you like when you're like this.”
“To be fair... I have no idea how to act when I am like this. I have never been like this before.”
Being nosy, Yoko took the lull in the excitement as the opportunity it was, snooping in the shopping bags, but was disappointed to find they were just clothes. “So is everyone back to being friends and getting along as best they can while they work out their numerous other issues but they will work them out like responsible adults instead of temperamental children? Just asking.”
“I think there is hope for them.” Julius affirmed.
“Well that's good to hear.” She sighed. Boys. They were such... boys about things. “Alucard, these clothes are way too small for you.” Yoko concluded, still poking around the high end retailer bags. “And too trendy. Unless these are your rave clothes and you're into midriff baring man shirts. Then I am a hundred percent behind these outfits.”
This brought a tired laugh out of the very exhausted Dhampyre. “They aren't for me, they're for him.” He replied, and nodded in Trevor's direction. “Go get dressed. After the doctor signs off, you and I are free to leave.”
“For real?” Trevor asked incredulously, and Yoko couldn't' help but realize with a smirk that he had been slowly absorbing her slang and turns of phrase.
“For real real.” Alucard confirmed.
“Not for play play.” The younger Belmont finished, and gleefully hopped out of bed to retrieve the bags, dressing himself in the bathroom.
As the door closed behind Trevor, Alucard pointed at her accusingly and switched to English. “Stop ruining him with your trash talk.”
Yoko pointedly looked away, rolling her eyes. “I can't help what the boy picks up. It's not my fault he thinks I am super cool and worthy of emulation.”
“Couldn't you at least teach him something current? You keep giving him nineties slang, it's ridiculous. He told me not to have a cow the other day.”
“Well, stop having a cow about everything.” Julius interjected, smoothly side stepping the pillow Alucard reached out to toss at him. “So you are going home later today.”
“Yes... I was dreading it so much I kept dragging my feet making it back here. Whatever did you do? He seems almost normal... Like how I remember him.”
“Just some guy talk. Tête-à-tête.” Julius offered simply, but Yoko was going to explode if she didn't dish the dirt.
“So it turns out that your boyfriend actually really responds well to Daddy figures. Julius Dad-ed so hard and he folded like a wet paper bag. It was all 'be responsible for your actions' and, 'you have no one to blame for your predicament but yourself' and, 'maybe stop being so prideful and accept help with some gratitude' or something like that. Then he felt super shitty and then you came back here and before I forget, he was super going to Hulk out because you have Vampyre Killer burns all over you and he correctly assumed Julius gave them to you. But don't worry, we explained one was you defending a Vampyre, one was you going legit crazy that one time, and the other was an accident, but it was super sweet how fierce he was about big bad Julius picking on his Dhampyre.”
“Aww, he really does care.” Alucard sighed in his best impression of a teenage girl. But judging by the twitch of his lips as the words left his mouth, it was obvious the Dhampyre was pleased by the news.
“Well I am glad I could help you out with your domestic dispute, Alucard, but I am afraid I must spoil the good mood by asking you what you plan to do when you leave here with him? He is going to see cars and skyscrapers and neon lights. He's going to see more people in one street block than he has in an entire village square. He's going to see cell towers and wiring and twenty four hour convenience stores. You may be able to get away with saying it's just how Japan is, but sooner or later you're going to have to tell him the truth.”
Folding back into himself, the Dhampyre lowered his gaze to the floor. “I know that... I have an idea of how to break it to him but he will require proof... I will begin gathering what I can to make him believe this horrible tragic truth. But until I am ready with something he cannot refute or deny... Please watch what you say around him. No dates. No years of your birth. No history lessons or top of the charts playlists for certain decades. Don't call your nineties slang by it's name. Don't argue about whether the sixties or the eighties had the better music. Don't compare fifties sci-fi to late seventies sci-fi. Don't talk about Universal's Monster Movies because of the date thing and also it's offensive to my kind. No beyond dated wrecking ball references. Nothing.”
“I get it, jeeze.” Yoko sighed. “I will be on my best behaviour, so don't worry. Just let me know if you need the moral support when you finally decide to break the news. I will back you up, bro.”
“Thank you... And I will. Because I definitely will need you both... Even if it's just for other moving targets.”
“I got you, bae.” Julius couldn't resist sliding in there and Alucard just broke down laughing.
“Oh, this week could not be over sooner. I can't take any more.”
“Would you say you can't even?” Yoko snickered.
“Never.” The Dhampyre insisted before switching back to the weird archaic Romanian that he kept peppering with the updated language, almost as if he was trying to teach the younger Belmont to better communicate with Yoko and Julius. “What took you so long? I was starting to think you got caught in the zipper.”
Still standing in the threshold of the bathroom door was a fully dressed Trevor in a slim fit slate grey denim that clearly Alucard had picked out for his own enjoyment, and a simple v-neck white tee with some minor gold and silver tribal designs, slate grey shoes blending almost perfectly with the denim. He seemed to have made an attempt to tame his bedhead, as his pin straight hair cascaded rather flatteringly past his shoulders. Yoko whistled approvingly and that drew a blush she relished.
“Are these clothes normal?” Trevor asked, still blushing.
“What do you mean? They're pretty basic pieces you'll see anybody wear once you get outside.” Alucard explained.
“May I borrow your coat?”
“Are you cold? It's summer here. Do you have a fever or something?”
“No... I just would like to borrow your coat. You are not using it.”
“Trevor what is your problem? If you turned any redder we could make a borscht out of you.” Alucard stood, gathering his coat in hand, and walked over to the bathroom to hand the garment over. “Here.”
Donning the dark oversized coat immediately seemed to let the blood escape his cheeks, and the boy visibly relaxed. “These trousers are not normal.” He stated. “There's nothing to them, and there are these pockets in the back you could never fit anything but a piece of parchment in. I think they are just there to draw... attention.”
“Attention?” Alucard repeated.
“Yes. Obscene attention. Your kind of attention.” Trevor all but accused.
“That's just how pants are made nowadays. I swear. Look, I'm wearing almost the same thing.”
Feeling helpful, Yoko hiked up her tunic shirt and showed off her snazzy form-fitted black denim, which made the fourteenth century boy's eyes nearly fall out of his head. “Relax, they're just pants. Everyone is wearing them.”
Julius, also feeling helpful, peeled off his long coat and showed off his classic blue butt hugging jeans, which why was Yoko just now realizing Julius has a really nice butt, stop the presses, cause she needed to find him a person who would worship that butt. “They're just pants, son. If they happen to make your ass look great, all the better.”
Trevor Belmont could not even. “Perverts... The lot of you. Why do I always end up surrounded by perverts?”
“Like attracts like.” Alucard offered, which earned him a lightly thrown punch, more of a halfhearted backhand to his chest. “You'll see when you get out of here. Everyone is wearing some form of the same thing, so there's no need to be so body conscious.”
Sensing the natural conclusion to the visit, Julius drew attention to himself by throwing his coat back on in a eye catching swish and pulled the Dhampyre into one of those one armed chest bump, back-slappin' man hugs. “I'll get out of your hair so you can pack up to go home. It was good to see you, my friend.” Then turning to Trevor he reached out to shake the younger man's hand again, once more holding it a little longer than the normal customs called for. “Trevor, it was interesting to meet you while we could converse for a change. Seeing as how you are all better... I look forward to seeing how you can help. I know you are a long way from home and everything is strange and frightening to you, although you may feel you can't admit that. You have a good friend in Alucard, so I hope that you use your resources better in these trying times. You're not alone, no matter how isolated you may feel in this strange land full of strangers. Take care.”
And with that Julius swept out of the room leaving Alucard with half a smile, Trevor with a thoughtful tilt to his head, and Yoko in a bewildered 'shouldn't I follow after that guy' half stance. Maybe she really should have taken his cue to hightail it out of there. After all, the snippy hurtful feud that had been warring for weeks was more or less resolved, and maybe with a little privacy the former lovers could work through whatever hurt feelings were left? Yeah, she definitely should have left after Julius, and now here she was standing awkwardly as the centre of attention.
“I should probably take off too... You have a lot of exploring to do Trevor, it's so exciting!” She said with as much energy as she could muster, even threw in some jazz hands. “Be nice to each other. No more mean fighting. If you have to argue use your words and not your spite.”
“Yes, Mademoiselle.” Trevor promised. “But before you go... Are you two... safe... with Julius?”
“Absolutely.” Alucard and Yoko said in unison.
“I went feral very briefly. I deserved this as much as I deserved the broken nose from you.” Alucard insisted, pointing at his neck brand.
“All right.” Trevor exhaled, finally dropping his creeping suspicion. “Be safe, Yoko.”
Bidding them one last farewell Yoko stepped outside only to catch the covert pervert's confession through the open door.
“Your friend Yoko has very nice... pants.” Trevor commented.
“You know what?” Alucard replied with a sigh. “You're not wrong.”
With a wide grin nothing in the world would wipe from her face, Yoko strut down the hospital corridor and pulled out her phone to text Hammer.
YoBear: Sooo Alucard and his little friend think I have a nice ass.
Hambone: All are welcome to worship at my most holiest of temple.
YoBear: Come meet me at the square. I feel like I want to take you to church, Big Guy.
Hambone: Ding Dong, babe.
Chapter 20: Villa Țepeș
Chapter Text
December 1476 ~ Lupu Village
Just beyond the loom of trees, a disused footpath nestled untouched by time nor man since one terrible night centuries ago, lay the ebony bones of Lisa Țepeș' small clinic. The closer the Dhampyre lead the humans up the faded footpath, the more apparent became the supernatural aura of the waiting wreckage. Birdsong along with the chatter of small animals, noise so small and constant in the everyday of ones existence, that the absence thereof became deafening once the wind lacked these small voices to carry. In the shadow of the charred timbers even their footsteps seemed muffled, as if they were the sounds of people far away whether through distance or time. No matter how many times Alucard stood before these ruins, the anguish the sight caused him never diminished. This scorched earth had been where Wallachians had beat down their door, dragging Lisa kicking and screaming all the way back to the accursed lands they'd hailed from, all in the name of their righteousness. Callous men without an ounce of mercy between them had left a frightened child to burn in the smouldering flames, although perhaps they should have finished the job when they'd had the chance, in hindsight.
His companions wore their wary apprehension clearly on their faces, yet the oppressive atmosphere seemed to have stolen their voices. In hopes of easing their tension he flashed them a weak smile, his own voice plucked from his tongue by the memories laid bare. Stepping under the ribs of his mother's former doorway, he bid them to follow, picking his path carefully towards a husk of a fireplace set in heavy stone flooring. Archaic symbols once hidden by thick rugs from prying eyes now laid out in the open air upon the carved slabs. As with the barrier his father had erected around Lupu, Alucard lacked the strength or ability to replicate such intricacies of the arcane lock before them, but as Dracula had with the aforementioned barrier, he'd also given his son the key to this. Precision was paramount when picking the locks of Dracula, so his focus was as guided as his hands by years of repetition. Memory of both muscle and mind. As the last of his father's wards clicked momentarily into dormant place, Dhampyre welcomed his friends to enter the depths below.
Now through the murky claustrophobic tunnel, Dhampyre followed after the line of wary humans who had no choice but to move forward as there was hardly any room to turn around. The tense silence carried on as they walked what felt like an immeasurable distance, as the lack of stimulation beckoned troubled minds to fill the vast darkness. Truthfully Alucard had always felt he came out the other side of this tunnel a slightly better man. The march, usually solitary, had always been his time to reflect inwardly. These long walks with nothing but his thoughts for distraction had been how he'd decided not to take his father's offer to make him a true Vampyre. He'd decided he wanted to master the sword most of all on such a walk. One summer march through the trench he'd happen to realize he found boys often more beautiful to look at than their counterparts, though sometimes a curly haired doe-eyed girl would turn his head. The very last time the Dhampyre had walked this familiar path had been when he'd sworn to never kill an innocent again. That he would never kill to satisfy his hunger alone. He'd decided to heed Lisa's wishes, to love mankind as he loved his own. This walk however... This walk he thought only of the boy leading the wary humans ahead. He already loved mankind. Now he just wanted to love a man. Somehow he was going to make the cautious Hunter understand there was no need for such a safeguard of his heart. Alucard was dead certain his were the only hands that could take care of such a gift.
Gradual as the break of dawn over the horizon, filtered in the light coming from the tunnel's end. Eerie stillness and supernatural silence prevailed as all four stepped out into the momentarily blinding light, but Alucard was not perturbed by this, as he knew it was only temporary. Once the humans had gathered their bearings and their eyes adjusted back to burning orange of the setting sun, he stepped through the small gathering and glided down a winding colourfully bricked walkway. Soft pastel hues, tinged with the orange light, harmoniously existed amongst the wildflowers and trees. Clearly visible up the walkway was a good size two story home, neither expansive nor cozy, it's windows shuttered with pastel painted fixtures and galvanized flower boxes sitting below each one. The brick was chalky and white, though it seemed yellow in the current lighting. Alongside the gardens and outdoor fixtures, suspended swing for two, metal chairs and tables made to look as if they were made of the same lace as the umbrella above them, statues and miniature moat, all these things too were clearly visible up ahead. The only thing keeping the quaint villa from charming his guests was the terrible absence of life. A simple matter he could fix.
Before he could however, he took small pleasure in watching Trevor, Sypha and Grant step into the suspended stasis to examine the pollen and dust held in the air. Trevor reached out and plucked a frozen leaf, shocked that it stayed where he left it when it was released. Sypha spotted sparrows mid flight, and Grant pointed at the pair of albino deer mid-leap into the safety behind some rose bushes. The Mage waved her arms comically, gathering the pollen into a yellowish haze of a ball, just as Grant was now plucking a ripe fallen apple from it's downward path, eyeing the fruit with equal parts desire and suspicion. Seeing as they had had their fun, Alucard drew their attention and held up a hand. “Welcome to my home.” He bid them, and snapped his fingers.
All at once the place came to life. The pollen dissipating on the breeze drew attention to the swooping flight of content avians, which drew their eyes to the vanishing white tails in the bush, which in turn drew attention to the sway of foliage, song of distant frogs and crickets, and perfume on the air. The steady trickling of the garden stream filled the gaps in-between.
“How beautiful.” Sypha murmured in a daze, her blue eyes drawn to the expansive gardens. “You actually grew up in a place like this?”
“Yes.”
“This must be why you are such a friendly Vampyre.” Grant joked, but he looked longingly at the peaceful little villa nestled in nature as if it caused him a bitter sort of regret. “This doesn't seem real after all the blood and guts I've seen strewn about outside. This is a wonderful dream, isn't it?”
“Did your father... The Master of a demon castle... Was this really a creation of his?” Trevor asked, perplexed.
“It is not a dream, Grant, and yes my father built this not only with magic but with his own two hands. He wanted to make the woman he loved a place of refuge from her days spent tirelessly aiding the sick and in need. My father was much different when I was small. He smiled easily, his touch was affectionate, and his patience for humans remarkable. This place is a reflection of the man Dracula became when he married my mother. It is a keepsake of my mother, as her influence is everywhere you look. Of course it is also my childhood home, so if you search hard enough you will find pieces of the boy I used to be around here too.”
Trevor studied him carefully, a slow grin spreading across his face. “I am going to play in your childhood room.”
“Whatever do you hope to find?”
The Hunter shrugged. “For some reason I imagine you played with dolls. I am hoping to find a dollhouse. Perhaps one that used to belong to your mother when she was a girl?”
The Dhampyre's easy smile firmed. “You stay out of my room, Trevor Belmont.” Alucard warned, but the boy was already heading up the path towards the house.
Sypha cackled and slid up to his side, mischief in her eyes. “You know, that was so specific a reply, I bet you he is the one who played with his mother's dolls, yes?” Still chuckling, the Mage pulled him along by looping their arms, snagging Grant as she passed him in her other. “I am eager to see what this dinner you promised us entails. You've shown no desire in helping with our cooking duties all trip, and so rarely does a morsel of food pass those pale lips. Will you be cooking with things from that lovely looking vegetable garden? Shall we dine out as the Italians say 'al fresco', in the flower garden?”
“Girl,” Grant began. “How do you even have room in that tiny tummy of yours to fit dinner after eating a bakeries worth of cakes those old biddies kept feeding you?”
“Cakes do not count, my dear friend. They are not food, they are a treat. And I have earned every one of them, yes?” She countered in a tone that left little room for argument. Honestly, what could Grant say? No, she hadn't earned a wheelbarrow full of sweets? There was only one blatantly suicidal way that would end.
“You know... I think I may bake you a cake as well, Sypha.” Alucard thought out loud. “We've all earned a cake for our efforts.”
“All of us except our child.” The Mage spat. “Look, he's gone and let himself into your home without even waiting for you. Who taught him his manners?” She chided. “I can't feed and clothe the boy and teach him how to behave all by my lonesome. Pick up the slack, you two.”
Bursting out of an opening shuttered window, Trevor glared straight at the diminutive Mage and actually stuck his tongue out at her. “I was invited in. It's not my fault you three are so slow... and old.” He vanished before Sypha could throw the stone she'd grabbed at him, but waited rather patiently for them just beyond the foyer, leaning against the kitchen table. In one hand he held a vintage doll dressed like peasant girl, her bonnet and braids faded from age. In the other he held a stuffed wolf Lisa had sewn. He balanced the two, looking between them before his eyes finally alighted on Alucard. “I cannot decide which is my favourite. This lovely doll I know you played with and I know belonged to your mother. Or this fluffy dog. He's very cute.”
“That is a wolf.” Alucard corrected in a stern but measured tone.
“Are you sure?” Trevor examined the wolf halfheartedly and shrugged. “I think it's a dog. Look at his little paws and tail. He's kind of the runt of the litter hmm?”
“That is a wolf.” Alucard stressed again. “He is a she, and she is a very powerful warg. And her name is Medeina.”
“Well, excuse me, Medeina. Are you one of those mother wolf characters?”
The Dhampyre was quick to correct. “You are getting your Roman mythology mixed up with my Baltic, Trevor. Medeina is a queen, and she leads an army of wargs. Now do you want to join us on a tour of my home or are you content to play with toys while I show the others around?”
The young Hunter made a show of considering his options before gently sitting the doll upon a chair at the kitchen table, with a quip about her being hungry and invited to stay for dinner. Poor Medeina remained his captive, as Trevor and the fluffy 'dog' were now friends. Alucard couldn't quite say to what degree the Hunter was being serious.
However, seeing as they were all standing in the sun-lit kitchen he chose to start the tour right there in the welcoming space. To the left was his mother's apothecary and work space, overlooking her cherished herb garden, windows lined neatly with potted plants with various medical uses. He offered Sypha free run of the space later before moving on. To the right of the kitchen were a few breakaway rooms. A large sitting area with fireplace and large bay windows that beckoned to be curled up in with a blanket and book. A combined laundry and sewing room. Down the bend of a hall were flower garden facing rooms. One a nursery for the little brother or sister that was never meant to be, a little boy's room that Trevor had already ransacked for toys, and a bathroom. The latter of which fascinated the trio to an unbelievable degree.
“Basically this is a throne to do your business, you say?” Grant laughed disbelievingly. “Do you get to wear a little crown too?”
“You are free to do whatever you want when the door is closed, Grant. I am not going to stop you.” He snickered in reply. “Just make sure to wash your hands after.” He alluded to the taps, eager to share with them the wonders of near instant hot water. Sypha in particular found this exciting. The Hunter seemed more preoccupied trying to figure out why the toilet water always swirled when it emptied out, and where the water went.
After they'd played with scalding hot water enough the tour was ushered back towards the kitchen and up the stairwell to the upper floor. Here was his father's small library and study, bare essentials from the expansive endless ones of the Castle as well as his equally compact workroom. Mechanical marvels in various states of repair or assembly were still strewn about haphazardly to the untrained eye, untouched since his father turned his back on the pain this place now caused him. Back into the upper hallway was another small sitting spot, a private cut-out for two to share with a glass door that opened out onto the wrap-around gallery. Here one could watch the landscape around them in solitary or shared serenity, and often Alucard opted to do just that with a pot of tea and his sketchbooks.
Back inside, the last stop was his parents master bedroom. Sun-lit and bright in the mornings, but soft and dusky rose in the evenings. It had taken him a while to realize just how romantic the atmosphere of their shared space was in the eve, as a child is mostly blind to their parents ongoing romance. It was a more or less a simple room though. Round scooped chairs by the window you could fall into, his mother's dainty vanity, her equally feminine wardrobe whose white neither clashed nor took away from the natural wood of everything else. Here and there lovely carved or hewn statuettes dotted surfaces. Their marriage bed was much larger than it needed to be, and the blankets and sheets the finest quality. Off side was their master bathroom, which he let his guest play in as well, relishing in the sight of them trying to figure out what the shower stall was. The bathtub downstairs had been an easy enough thing to puzzle out, but this was something else entirely.
After a while of fooling around either Trevor or Sypha got the water running, and the sudden spray spooked them out of the bathroom entirely for a moment. Alucard shared a laugh with Grant watching the pair warily return to examine what they'd caused, and Trevor recalling that left was for warm water twisted the knob until it was pleasantly steamy instead of arctic waters. He pushed Sypha into the stall to test the water, too busy laughing at her cry himself to stop her from tugging him in after her. What ensued was a childish splash fight until the pair realized their white shirt and robe respectively were so threadbare that when soaked, the garments were now practically pointless.
“I didn't see a thing.” Trevor swore, bending to shut off the taps. The whole room was moist from steam and splashed water. The Hunter made a point not to look directly at her while ripping a towel off the wall to hand the now shivering girl.
“You should have taken your one and only chance.” Sypha teased, but her cheeks did indeed have a bit of colour to them that could not be blamed solely upon the steam. “Well now what are we to do, you fool boy? You've gotten us soaked.”
“There wasn't exactly a plan in place when I pushed you in. I just thought it would be hilarious because you look like a wet cat when it rains.”
“Better to be a wet cat than a wet rat like you, Trevor Belmont.” The Mage retorted and shoved him right into Alucard. “Put a leash on this boy and teach him how to behave already!”
Alucard sighed and looked away, settling on his mother's sizable wardrobe. “To be honest, I think he's a lost cause as far as manners go. I could get you something to change into, although? Actually, help yourself to anything that you find in there.” He gestured where he was looking. “You can replace your lost winter cloak from there as well. Truly, don't be shy. My mother hated being wasteful, and right now those clothes are all being wasted.”
“Oh...” Sypha hesitated. “If you're certain... Well I thank the lady of the house for her gifts.”
“You are most welcome.” He assured her. “Take whatever you need. That robe of yours has seen the last of it's days.” And with that he shuffled them out to leave the girl alone to dress, and marched Trevor back downstairs towards his old bedroom. Grant, with little else to do, followed. “You too.” He offered stopping in the family sitting room. “Both of you have been wearing the same garments since I met you. I don't care how many times you've washed them, there is only so much blood and guts a piece of cloth can take. I have clothes in my bedroom from a range of my younger days. I am certain you can find something to replace your more ragged attire with.”
With that now done with, he exited his family home and found his way to the cellar below, gathering a plucked and cleaned chicken, spices, as well as an assortment of root vegetables. Slicing and spicing efficiently, the dressed bird was just sliding into the oven when the men rejoined him. Without a word the Hunter helped him clean up the vegetable scraps, and then noticing the layer of dust on the table moved on to clean that and then the counter tops, which quickly became his self imposed task for the evening, evidently. Alucard did not mind, for dust was no bother to a creature who slept in the earth, and he wasn't much of a housekeeper in spite of his upbringing. It was kind of nice to see Trevor do something as domestic as tidying up. In fact, it seemed like Trevor was more than happy to have something to do that didn't involve swinging a whip or holy water around. Grant on the other hand seemed more than happy to pull up a chair to the now clean table and take full advantage of his guest status privileges. He grinned from ear to ear when Alucard fished out a bottle of his father's finest from the wine rack and set it down with four glasses before the Rogue.
“You really get me, you know that?” Grant stated emphatically as he watched the Dhampyre set the table and popped the cork so that the wine could breathe. As his attention drifted over to the other human, now dusting and wiping down the sitting room furniture, the Rogue let out an almost remorseful sigh. “What was it like living here? This place is a fairytale.”
“That is a good way of putting it... It was my fairytale. My parents moved between here and the Castle, and I had a home in each. My elder years were spent more in my father's domain as he was teaching me how to be what I am and survive, but my happiest days were here with them. Here I was safe and protected. Nobody but my parents and I set foot in this space. Have you ever had a place that truly your own?”
“No.” The Rogue admitted sadly. “Most of us rely on our communities to survive, and isolation often spells death. But what this place is, is every man's dream. A quiet safe little haven in which to raise a family. Now I get it, Alucard. I truly understand why you were so eager to bring us to Lupu, and why you are so blind to the horror of the curse your father has inflicted on these people here. That same curse protects this space. Your space, as you put it. Being here I can almost agree that the evil done to the village is worth the good of protecting this enclave. I'm not sure I could say if this was my childhood home I wouldn't also be so blind.” The Rogue bit is lip and hissed an apology. “I am not being a very grateful guest now are I?”
“You are entitled to your opinion, and you will not be faulted for it... I will think more on the subject of the people of Lupu, no doubt about it. I always considered it a blessing from their perspective to never be sick or die needlessly. But that is the perspective of an immortal being like myself. It never occurred to me that aside from their flights of fancy and revisionist history, the people may be suffering in this stasis.” His eyes followed Grant's line of sight as he also pulled up a chair, pouring the wine carefully into each glass as he joined the older human in watching the younger one hum away at his self-imposed task. “It has not been lost on me that when my father is vanquished, his spell will leave with his life force. This is the last time I will come back to my home and it will be exactly as I remember it. The people here have been locked away from the world for so long... And they are about to be thrust into the chaos once more. Which is the bigger cruelty I do have to wonder? At least this is the devil they know.”
“I am sorry you are losing so much. We talk about it sometimes when you are checking the bounds of our campsites.”
“About what?”
“About what we are doing, and that you are helping us. To take your own father's life is a duty no child should ever be tasked with, nor be forced to take upon themselves. The more we learn about how you grew up, and what being a Dhampyre entails, the more we have realized just what you are sacrificing to do the right thing. We suspect it's not just your last remaining family you are losing, but your place in this harsh unforgiving world too, isn't it?” Grant shook his head in an apology that could offer no more than sympathy.
The man's words were a spike into the dark thoughts and troubles he'd been actively trying to suppress just to get through this last leg of their journey. Alucard barely swiped at his eyes in time to catch the sudden tears before they fell. “I have made my decision.” He whispered. “You have seen what it has become outside Lupu. If the world out there could have even an ounce of the peace in here... It is worth it. It is selfish to let my fear of the unknown future in an unknown world keep me from doing what I know must be done.”
“You are a noble soul, Alucard.” Grant stated simply.
Guilty tears were wiped away as quickly as they appeared. “Only because I have so much I must redeem. I was a monster for a long time, and no different from my father. There was a time I would have revelled in your death, Grant, because you were human and no other reason than that. This is nothing like nobility but rather a repayment of past sins. My life up until this point has been built on the backs of innocent lives lost. It is only fitting that I tear it down and start anew.” Gathering his fragile emotions and shoving them back into their bottle at the pit of his stomach, Alucard regained his composure and his vision cleared. “But since we are here, and the last leg of this journey will be our most trying yet, I am happy to have you all stay here and rebuild both your strength and your wills. We should take advantage of this safety and prepare rations. Mend your clothes and you boots, or buy new ones in town. Prepare your weapons and holy water. Put weight back on your diminished bodies. Sleep soundly every night until you can't recall what being exhausted feels like. This is your last chance to prepare for the assault on my father's Castle.”
“Will it truly be as bad as you make it out to be?”
“We are safe in Lupu, but my father will know the barrier was breached by me. He will know I have bypassed the wards here. He knows at the very least that I am returning to him. The moment we step through the barrier on the opposite side we entered, we will be in Dracula's domain. He will know I am coming, and then he will know you are coming. He can sense a Belmont's presence in the Castle, and his minions will be on the hunt from the second we step into that domain.”
“There is no room for any error is what you are saying.”
“I am saying exactly that. We must make sure we are completely ready before we leave here. There is no daylight in my father's domain, and no moment where we will be safe enough, long enough, to catch our breath. This is our one shot.” The point could not be stressed enough, and he could see in Grant's hardened gaze that the point had come across loud and clear.
The Hunter hovering nearby drew their attention with his absentminded fidgeting, as he let the Dhampyre's words sink in. On his usually confident visage was a strange mix of apprehension and Alucard was forced to hold in a gasp once the scent coming off the young Hunter wafted over. Trevor Belmont, the boy who'd faced off against an undead dragon to protect a demon without batting an eye, who'd duelled a Dhampyre whilst dead on his feet from starvation and fever with a smile, that same Trevor Belmont smelled... afraid. Not once in all their time together had he ever caught even the faintest scent of doubt on the boy, no matter how dire their situation grew. The boy had confessed he was worried his companions were falling apart on him under the strain of their duty, but never once had it occurred to any of them that their leader was struggling to keep himself together. Trevor's fear unsettled Alucard viscerally. The Belmont boy was their sole reason for believing defeating Dracula was within the realm of possibility, and now he was afraid of the task before him. Or was it something more, or many somethings compounded? Was it because of his own thoughtless words? He'd only wanted to tell Grant to make certain they were rested and fed before they rushed off. It was not his intention to shake the boy's resolve, not the slightest.
Alucard pulled back from the table and closed their distance, taking and tossing the cleaning rag Trevor was wringing aside, and took the Hunter's hands in his to break the forlorn trance he seemingly was trapped in. “Dracula is not invincible, remember?” He reiterated. “He keeps to his Castle because he knows he has vulnerabilities.” Now drawing the Hunter's attention to his whip faithfully resting at his hip, Dhampyre continued. “That is his greatest fear. The weapon you wield and the blood you carry. He is afraid of you, Trevor Belmont. He will never admit it, and I don't think he even realizes he does, but I have seen him face off against your bloodline before, and I have smelled his fear.”
The scent coming from the young Hunter faded in potency but was still a perfume he ill-fittingly wore. “Don't look so concerned.” Trevor halfheartedly chastised him. “We are all just tired and hungry, that's all.”
Alucard relented, giving the boy his semblance of pride and overlooking the white lie. “Come sit down and have a glass of wine with us. Relax for once.” He urged, pulling out a chair for the Hunter to sit in. “You may finish cleaning my house tomorrow.”
Confirming his earlier suspicion, Trevor admitted. “That was me relaxing! I can't remember the last time I only had a messy house to worry about. I'm actually looking forward to mopping your floors.”
Overcome with affection, Alucard thoughtlessly reached down to comb through the Hunter's hair, not thinking about the fact that Grant was sitting right there. Halfway through the act he smoothly segued into gathering the strands at the back of Trevor's head and examined it. “You are due for a haircut, I believe.” He spectacularly landed upon to save face, and spare the Hunter any shame or embarrassment his lack of control might have caused. He let the chestnut silk slip free and took his seat all in one smooth action. Nothing suspect at all.
“You are not cutting my hair.” Trevor said firmly.
“The ends are jagged and split. You just need a trim.”
“I like splitting hairs, so my hair is just reflecting that.”
As always, Trevor's petulance won him over and he couldn't help but laugh. “You're going to be here for a while. Sooner or later I am going to get you.” Words punctuated with a snipping hand gesture in the boy's direction. Finally taking notice of the slick curls poking out of the Rogues bandana, Dhampyre narrowed his eyes and curled his lips. “I'm going to get you too, Grant.”
“Can I not leave you three alone for a moment without you devolving into threats and bickering?” Huffed the Mage from the top of the stairs. For such a little thing, she certainly made enough noise coming down the steps to join them, eager to snatch the glass of wine offered her. “Oh, I don't seem to care as much about whatever you're bickering over suddenly.”
It seemed something had caught the tongues of the other men in her company, Alucard mused, and he had an idea of what. Sypha must have utilized her newfound knowledge to shower, and her time alone to tame her wild curls into perfect little ringlets. While the dress she'd selected from his mother's collection had been one of her plainest pieces worn around the house to complete gardening or mixing tinctures, the pale blue fabric, stout yet soft, slashed with white down the middle and sleeves, accentuated her tan skin and freshly washed strawberry blonde hair. Hair that had also grown much longer since Alucard had first laid eyes on her, though the gained length suited her as much as her cropped cut had. Clean and dressed simply, she resembled nearly exactly the kind of petite curly haired and doe-eyed girl that would have turned his head. Seeing as how he had the best chance of commenting on her startling change and surviving, he took the gamble.
“Sypha, without trying to make you uncomfortable, I must ask you something.” He opened with. “Has any one ever told you how uniquely beautiful you are?”
The Mage sputtered her wine, turning the same hue of what could be found in her glass. “Not in such a frank and open way, no.” She pulled out her own chair and sat by the doll's side, rolling the fur cloak she had also taken from his mother's wardrobe and placing it under the toy so that it was now propped up to their eye level at the table. “I wish I could return the compliment but you three are so filthy. However, this place looks much less dusty and whatever you are cooking smells delicious, so you are forgiven. The wine helps too.” She quipped.
From out of a small belt pouch Grant pulled a deck of cards and placed them on the table. “Dinner will be a while yet. You all want to get drunk and play some games while we wait?”
Everyone was in agreement.
*****
December 1476 ~ Țepeș Villa
Drunk on far too much wine and overstuffed with a hearty meal, the lack of sleep that morning coming off of a long night full of fighting had finally caught up with his human companions. Sypha ventured back upstairs to steal some nightclothes from his mother's dresser before retiring to the small bed in the nursery room. It had been where his mother slept when he was a baby in order to keep mind of him, though he did not mention the fact. The poor girl might already be feeling a little self conscious wearing a dead woman's attire. Grant fished out something to sleep in from his old room and made a beeline for the bathtub offside, eager to soak in water as scalding as he could tolerate. He suggested Trevor grab something from there as well before Grant finished up so he would not disturb the elder man's rest, and climbed the stairs to his parents old bedroom to find something in his father's dresser for himself. It was strange to run his hands over the garments, knowing his father would never wear them again. They technically were no longer even his as Dracula had abandoned this place the same day he abandoned what little was left of his heart. Still, the black silk set he pulled free from a neatly folded pile seemed to resist being disturbed more than it should have, fighting to remain faithful to their former owner.
The sleep wear he placed on the counter in the bathroom before returning to turn down the bed, sitting on the end of it to wait for the Hunter. Slipping free of his stockings, the Dhampyre worked his toes into the small rug at the foot of the bed, relishing the feel of the fibres slipping between his toes. Eyes closing, he searched his memories for similar sensations, recalling the feel of grass under his bare foot in the summertime, dry sand by the pond a ten minute walk from the house. Such a simple pleasure, and so easy to overlook or forget entirely. It brought a small smile to his lips.
“Shall I give you a few more minutes alone?” Trevor asked him, half-seriously.
“You should try it.” He offered. “I've just now realized I am sick to death of wearing boots. Think about it, when was the last time you were barefoot?”
The Hunter pondered the question and threw up his hands in defeat, tossing his chosen sleep wear onto the bed before taking a place at Alucard's side. He removed his boots and stockings as well, carefully unwrapping the gauze protecting his footwear from the small sharp talons he secreted before miming Alucard's toe wriggling action. “...I am sick of wearing boots too.” He agreed. “I am sick of being dirty, hungry, tired and cold. Mostly, I am sick of complaining about being these things. I was never a whiner, and I feel that is all I do of late.”
Alucard made a placating sound before reaching out to pull the Hunter to him, running a hand up and down his back and kissing the top of his head affectionately. “You have undertaken so much responsibility, a little whining is nothing to be ashamed about. Take advantage of this place, my sweet. You are fed, you are warm, and you are free from your boots. If we cleaned you up and tucked you into bed you'd have nothing to complain about.” Smiling mischievously to no ones benefit but his own, he made a self-servicing suggestion. “Do you want to take a shower with me? The hot water beating down on your skin is like a little massage. I bet your sleep afterwards will be the best you ever had.”
The modest and scandalized refusal he was expecting as a response to his suggestion was instead a surprisingly welcoming one. The Hunter's arms curled around his waist and held tightly. “I was trying to figure out a way to ask you the same thing.” He confessed demurely, raising his head from where it rested on the Dhampyre's shoulder and caught yellow eyes with his own. “It might be fun... More so if you took off your mask.”
Alucard grinned coyly and dropped his glamour in a heartbeat, not even caring that the bedroom door was wide open. Though to be safe, he did get up almost immediately to close it. He was lustful, not stupid, after all. “Feel free to step inside whenever you're ready.” He purred and headed towards the bathroom, stripping his clothing along the way. The hot water was indeed a luxury he had missed, but he chose to wash his hair and body quickly before Trevor finished storing his bag and weapons so that he had plenty of spare time and free hands to help the other man. “Well, hello.” He greeted when he heard the bathroom door shutting, and opened to glass stall door to let the Hunter into his steamy wonder land.
Trevor glanced at the escaping steam delightfully as he peeled off his borrowed clothing. “This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and I've had a wife and three children.” The Hunter laughed. “That's terrible to say...” Terrible or not, it didn't stop him from stepping inside, testing the water with a hand before fully stepping under the spray. The sigh he let out was just shy of a moan. “A hot waterfall. What a wondrous invention. It must have been hard on you having used this all your life only to be condemned to crawling through the mud with us for months.”
“Yes, I have been quite put out by the whole affair.” He mused. No longer able to keep his hands to himself, he gathered the Hunter's long hair and begun to lather it up. Trevor quirked an eyebrow but allowed Alucard to carry on with his whim of washing the brunette's hair. He washed it twice, given how long it had been since the baths in Fetra, and how much demon blood the Hunter had been splashed with just the previous night, before working in a softening oil from tips to root. “You should take better care of these lovely locks of yours.” He chastised. “You'll miss it when it starts falling out.”
“I'd make a great bald man.” Trevor dismissed. “We are all not so vain as you, Adrian.”
“Ha ha. Yes, I get it. I care about how I look. How terrible of me.” He rolled his eyes. “You pretend not to care because you are attractive and you know it. You don't have to put in much effort, and you still get some virtuous points from the human God for your fake modesty. You're not fooling me, Trevor Belmont.”
“Why does everyone use my full name all the time?” The Hunter asked quite suddenly.
The question sort of threw Alucard off his tirade, and he busied himself lathering up an mildly abrasive cloth with soap to attack the Hunter's grimy flesh. “I'm not quite sure myself. I just like how the sound of it rolls off my tongue, but I do believe it originated as a verbal tick I have absorbed from Sypha. You say 'yes' and 'no' at the end of sentences like her too sometimes, so she's rubbing off on you too.”
“By this logic, Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș, at the end of this journey we will all be sounding like a Spanish mage, yes?” Trevor snickered at the end, if not succeeded, then having almost mimicked her voice perfectly.
“I dare you to do that around her.” Alucard intoned seriously.
“I double dare you-ouch!” The Hunter hissed once the lightly scratchy cloth made contact with his skin. “Why is that so rough?”
“It's not rough, it exfoliating. It only hurts because you're layered in dirt. See, look how clean this one part of you is already.” The Dhampyre continued to exfoliate away in spite of Trevor's whining. “How is it you can take a full blow from an arch demon and walk it off but you can't put up with a little scrubbing?”
“I was expecting hot water and maybe some light petting. I didn't think you were actually going to try and remove my skin.” The Hunter huffed. He continued to complain right until the Dhampyre made it to his overworked feet. Then suddenly an abrasive cloth scraping away calloused and flaking skin was the greatest invention ever, after the shower. Now that he was as clean and white as porcelain once more, Alucard pushed him back against the glass and captured his mouth. “That's all I wanted.” Trevor stated exasperatedly.
“You were too dirty to molest properly.” Alucard explained, stroking his flesh and combing through his wet hair. At Trevor's bidding he leaned down to press their foreheads together, where the two stayed in the steam, eyes closed, for a long while in silence. After a blissfully perfect moment of simple connection, he whispered. “I am really happy you are here.”
The Hunter smiled and whispered back. “Here in your village? Your house? In your shower? Or in your arms, perhaps?”
“In my life.” He replied. “I am happy you exist.”
The Hunter turned his head away and looked down, suddenly self conscious once again. “...I have a hard time remembering what life without you was like. It's not like I've even known you that long.”
Alucard felt his chest swell with that wonderful feeling of little fluttering beetle wings. Trevor had said something very similar to that effect once before. The Hunter had said he needed him, and that he was a comfort. Why would he say those things if there wasn't so much more to his words? Trevor was a locked vault when it came to admitting anything that might be construed as an admission of affection passed friendship. Because of that, the Dhampyre was wary of pushing him, but it was those tiny remarks like this one that drove him mad overthinking what their true meaning were. Was it possible Trevor was trying to tell him he loved him as well, or was it just his deep desire and wishful thinking that one day such a thing would be true? The ambiguity was truly maddening.
“Whoa, cold.” The Hunter squeaked, jumping into his arms. “Why is it cold now?”
Alucard shook his head and cut the water. “The fresh water fills a large tank under the home that is heated and provides the hot water. Between Sypha's shower, Grant's bath, and this very long shower of ours, the tank must need to fill and reheat.”
“So it's not magick.” Trevor surmised. “And it is not infinite. Good to know.”
“Come on.” Alucard urged lightly, taking the brunette by hand to step out of their steamy glass enclosure. He took the liberty of towelling the Hunter off and gave him a fresh fluffy towel to finish the job while he attended to himself and dressed. While Trevor pulled on his own sleep clothes, the Dhampyre attacked his hair with a golden comb laying nearby. He couldn't quite recall which parent it belonged to, but it seemed aesthetically to be something more akin to Dracula's taste. “You know you are in your enemy's home, eating your enemy's food, and now I am combing your hair with your enemy's comb.”
The Hunter shrugged his shoulders. “I am also going to sleep in his bed, and eat his food again tomorrow. But it pales in comparison to the fact that I have been practically bedding my enemy's first born and heir. If we are being quite honest, that knowledge kind of gives me one of those twisted pleasures you are not supposed to acknowledge. But I acknowledge it. A lot.”
“You're just using me to get back at my father? I have been a fool this whole time.” Alucard bemoaned jokingly. “I thought you really cared.”
“My poor sweetheart, can't a man have it both ways?”
“I'll never love again.” He proclaimed with a dramatic flip of his hair and walked out of the bathroom to style his soft curls in a less steamy environment. As he flopped into bed to detangle, he noticed Trevor had placed his wolf queen by the pillows. “Good evening, Medeina.” He greeted the his most cherished of childhood toys. “I am glad you're still in once piece.”
“I wouldn't hurt your fluffy dog. She's cute.” The Hunter sighed, crawling up the bed to his side.
“Wolf.”
“Fluffy dog.” Trevor insisted. “No wolf looks like that.”
“Wolf Queen.” He reiterated, and snatched Medeina away from the Hunter. “You aren't allowed to play with her until you show her the respect she deserves.”
“I love how defensive you are getting over your stuffed animal. I bet you never shared your toys with the other kids. Maybe that's why the beastmen pups and harpy chicks made fun of you. Because you were stingy.” Trevor chuckled, and nestled up close to him to lay down. “It's all right though. I'll still play with you, even if you hog all your toys.”
Alucard inhaled slowly, his exhale even more drawn out. He reached out to shut the light off and placed Medeina between the pillows, where she was easy to cuddle by both of them. “Be nice to my wolf.” He murmured, and nestled closer to Trevor, looking forward to the first night since Fetra where he could just relax with this beautiful and often aggravating creature without fear of attack. He was just about to drift off into that blissful blackness where his mind stilled when he heard the Hunter murmur back.
“Fluffy dog.”
He was such a brat.
Chapter 21: Playing House
Chapter Text
December 1476 – Villa Țepeș
Sheer window dressings drifted elegantly upon a gentle morning breeze that carried the floral scents of his mother's gardens into the master bedchambers. Hanging succulents, creepers and a few flowering greens swayed upon that same breeze, though not so much that the visiting butterflies were disturbed from their feast of nectar. Sunlight dappled across the snowy white linens, early morning rays dancing between the branches and leaves of willows and lilacs, as did the swooping shadows of musical birds at play. Such a perfect picture this, exactly the kind of mornings he'd fantasized about in a happier place and time, it pained him almost to be admiring it alone. Alucard looked down at the Hunter nestled peacefully at his side, curled around his torso with poor Medeina in a stranglehold and shook his head, resigned. After all, every morning in this private place was magical. Certainly before they had to leave his home for the great unknown he'd get a chance to spend a romantic morning with the comatose brunette. The Dhampyre supposed he should take the dead sleep as a compliment, for the Hunter obviously felt safe in his home and in his presence if he could allow himself to be so defenceless. Alucard would just have to find his own enjoyment in this quiet morn. Perhaps this was yet another gift, even? There was only so much hair playing and caressing Trevor would tolerate in a given day, so he took full advantage of being able to card though chestnut locks and stroke relaxed flesh at his leisure. Trevor sighed blissfully but otherwise remained still... As fast asleep as a babe in his mother's arms. Surprisingly - most of all to the Dhampyre - Alucard grew restless and was forced to extricate himself from the Hunter's possessive grip with care, as bored or not, he'd feel terrible for waking the exhausted younger man. A good solid sleep was what they all needed, after all.
Now free of the loving prison, he dressed unhurriedly in the discarded raiments of the man his father used to be, admiring the creature he'd just spent another night holding. Another Moroi and human sharing a bed willingly. To think this shy creature allowed a demon into his arms, and was happy to climb into those of that demon. It seems I have found my Lisa, Father. He mused, glancing at the family portrait on his mother's dresser. The man in the painting looked back almost approvingly... But the man in that painting was a ghost. Dracula, as he was currently, would never accept his heart's desire, not after taking a chance on such a union had caused the great Vampyre so much heartache. Dracula... Is not my father anymore. The grim reminder stole his earlier serenity, and he shook his head violently to chase the darkness back inside the bottle he tried so desperately to keep it all in.
“See you later, Trevor.” He whispered softly to the sleeping boy and headed downstairs.
The whole house that greeted him was still. So still in fact, he almost thought his father's time capsule spell had been triggered. Were it not for the chattering squirrels and birdsong, he might have believed that. Lupu... was safe. Nothing could harm this place that Dracula protected. So it certainly was not with any concern that he padded down the hallway barefoot to peek into the nursery room. As with Trevor, the Dhampyre found Sypha dead to the world, only she had fallen into an undignified slumber. Arms, legs, hair and bedsheets every which way but proper, the snoring girl even sported the white crusts of drool trails at the corner of her lips. Alucard's shoulders shook with silent laughter at the sight. The Mage had been run ragged more so than any of them, given the strain of her gifts and the party's over reliance upon them most nights. Sypha more than deserved to take full advantage of her own bed and rare privacy to sleep in. He shut the door as quietly as possible and moved on to find Grant in almost the same fashion, rolled up in blankets in Alucard's childhood bedroom. What was man and what was blanket, who could truly say? Three for three. All the human hunters were down for the count, and he, the undead demon of the night, was awake in the late morning. Almost midday now, to be more precise.
What was he to do but take it as a compliment?
The first few days of refuge at his family home passed much the same. The hunters slept nearly all the day, waking to eat well into the afternoon, before falling back into their beds before the sun had even fully set. Alucard understood how drained and exhausted they all were.. But he was growing so bored doing laundry, gardening and making meals solo. Occupying oneself was a skill all immortals developed, but how was he supposed to be content quietly sketching away or whatever else he could find to fill the day when there were actual people he wanted to spend time with around? Cuddling up was lovely, sure, but he wanted to play too. Trevor wasn't exactly the most entertaining when he passed out the moment he lay his head down. Yes, he was being selfish. It wasn't exactly a secret. But he'd spent so much time dreaming about just... being... with the Hunter. What would normal feel like, if a man and a monster could just exist together in harmony? This was their only guaranteed chance, after all. As much as he believed in the Hunter's convictions, his own were not so assured. They could be dead in a month's time.
Quite suddenly he slammed the fallboard down over the keys of the clavichord he'd been playing softly, the forceful tantrum echoing throughout the stillness of his home.
Trevor was right. The closer they got to the end, the more worn down their nerves had become. Alucard was no exception. He was afraid. Afraid of losing his home, both at the Castle and here in Lupu. Afraid of being alone. Afraid of having to strike down the man who had given him life and taught him all he knew. Afraid of being the one struck down with only regret and broken promises to hold onto in his last moments of life. This was the path forward, however. There was no other choice he could make and live with but this one. Taking a page out of the Hunter's book, he did what Trevor did when Alucard could see tension in his shoulders or eyes. He set about being useful, laying out all their supplies out along the floor, categorizing and marking down where they were coming up short for the basics. They'd need leather and canvas and thread for repairs, and all the other miscellaneous goods he'd become so familiar with on this journey. So rather then moping around his house in such a pathetic lonesome fashion, he went to the market.
It was a start, right?
The citizens of Lupu were most helpful in gathering the things he needed, and the things he didn't think he needed but maybe the others would have a different opinion, The elder women pressed sweets into his hands for the curly haired boy, as the old little girl with the ringlets kicked him in the shin for taking the handsome man away the other day. Several village girls asked about that same handsome man, while a great many other villagers wanted to know when the bard would be back to share his fantastic tales. Alucard assumed they meant Grant. Extricating himself from their starved need for news of anything new, he fled back to the still bones of his mother's hospice, and back into the darkness of the path beneath. This trek through the blackness he thought only of how soon the people of Lupu would have all the newness they could desire. Of course wanting and having were not always the same pleasure.
Stepping out into the sanctuary of his childhood home, arms full, the scent of roasting meat and savoury herbs both greeted and elated him. His friends were actually awake! Dignity and dignity alone is what kept him from trotting up the cobblestone pathway. Instead he kept a steady unhurried pace, and opened his front door with a warm grin, happy to be home. He got no further than the welcoming mat just inside.
“Don't you dare dirty my floor, Alucard.” Trevor warned from a scooped chair in the sitting room. Sypha and Grant were loafing across the opposite couch with half apologetic and half bemused expressions. Next to the chair was a mop and bucket, which explained the clean but still wet state of the floors.
“Do you expect me to stand in my threshold until the floor is dry? In my own home.”
“That is your problem.” Trevor stated firmly. “Figure it out.”
“Fuck the floor.” He grit out, lowering the bags and removing his boots all on the front mat. But before he could place a single toe on the freshly mopped floor, the slam of the Vampyre Killer being set out on the sitting room table drew his attention. The freshly polished table.
“Fuck your shoddy housekeeping.” Trevor spat back with a barely contained laugh, but Alucard still had a feeling that the whip was not just a power play.
So it was his problem after all, the Dhampyre sighed. The only solution he could come up with was to shift into the form of a bat and gather all his bagged goods in his feet. He set them down on the sitting room table, and then himself upon it as well to untangle his feet. Which was how he found himself being rudely manhandled by the Hunter, who plucked him up, untangled him and then turned him around to better scowl at him.
“And no wild animals on my tables.” Trevor scolded. He glared at the bat-shaped Dhampyre for a solid minute before his eyes and tone softened, and he actually smiled. “Hmm... You kind of have a cute face. Like a puppy.” He declared, and turned Alucard around to show Grant and Sypha. “Don't you think so?”
“Bats are not cute, Trevor Belmont.” Sypha replied as Grant staunchly refused to comment.
Fingers now wriggling into his fur, Trevor made a pleased noise. “Well I think he looks like a cute puppy-dog. And he's pretty fluffy too.” The Hunter flipped him back around and curled up in the chair with his new stuffed toy. “Usually bats have those weird flared noses but you have a little snout. You're adorable.”
This was how he now found himself insultingly being pet like a mongrel. But somehow once those fingers started scratching around his neck and behind his ears, the grievous disrespect didn't seem so grievous anymore. In fact he voluntarily crawled up to curl into as fat a ball of fluff as he could make himself on the hunter's chest and kind of just... let himself be pet. Like a mongrel. But with an understanding of why mongrels enjoyed such attention. Noticing rather quickly that the rounder he made himself appear, the more affectionate the Hunter became, he did his best to keep those coos and pats coming. He must have fallen asleep listening to his humans chatter about a whole lot of nothing, as when he next became aware of his surroundings, it was silent and warm, and a heavy weight was upon him. Little bat head peeked up from under the tent of a book placed over him, and he shifted back into his Dhampyre form with a huff, catching the book. The change from bat weight to man weight unsurprisingly woke the dozing hunter.
“I am not a page marker, boy.” He cursed, but still kept the Hunter's page saved between his fingers. It was his little Latin treasure that Trevor had been reading. “And this is a bit scandalous for your reading habits, don't you think?”
“A Pope wrote it.” The Hunter defended, but he did blush a little. “I was only reading it because I didn't want to wake you. I didn't think you could sleep in an animal form and maintain it.”
“Oh, I'm sure. Passionate exchanges of letters between two lovers must have been such a dour read for you.” Alucard rolled his eyes. “Where are our friends?”
“Sypha is outside in your garden digging for medicinal plants. Grant went to that bar in town to do what men do, I guess.” Trevor explained with a not so innocent smile. “It's just you and I, I'm afraid.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, someone had to stay and make sure our dinner does not burn. And you were so peaceful looking curled up on me, it would have been just plain mean to move you.” The Hunter's laugh was cut short when the Dhampyre captured his mouth, but the pleased noises he made soon after were very encouraging. “You know, this is the first time since Fetra I have felt like a regular old man.” He commented between soft kisses, his hands roaming everywhere he could reach upon the Dhampyre. “I feel almost guilty relishing this place.”
“You do seem different...” Alucard spoke after a thoughtful pause. “A good kind of different.” The Dhampyre laid his head back down on Trevor's chest and basked in the Hunter's open affection, belatedly only coming to realize another one of his fantasies had come to fruition, and it was just as pleasant to lay in Trevor's arms and have the man play with his hair as it was to kiss and toy with him. “Are you always like this?” Alucard asked without thought, lost as he was in a dreamy sea of sensations.
Although Alucard was unsure exactly what he meant with the question that came seemingly out of nowhere, Trevor answered him. “When I'm not preoccupied with staying alive, or watching out for what will jump me or my friends from the shadows. It's hard to be affectionate when you've always got your guard up, don't you find?”
“It feels nice, what you're doing.” He replied, skirting the topic so he could privately enjoy the warm fluttering feeling in his gut. A domestic Trevor Belmont was an affectionate and loving one, and that knowledge couldn't make him any happier.
“It feels nice to do it, so I don't mind if you don't mind.” Trevor responded in a smooth tone. “Will you come back here when this is all over? You said your father's spell would fail when he is gone... Surely the people here will need someone to guide them into the future awaiting them?”
Alucard turned his head to hide between Trevor and the chair, in hopes his grit teeth did not show. “I'm not sure I want to think about things that may or may not be at this junction... Losing what this place is right now will be very painful for me. I'd rather enjoy it while it is here, with the people I also enjoy.”
“I'm sorry.” Trevor offered. “I guess I only asked because having a goal helps me. It feels less like I am reacting to the madness around me and more like I am taking action. For example, first I intend to return to Wallachia and just spend time with my sons. I'm not sure they understand that their mother is gone and not coming back. I want to give them a chance to come to terms with that before I shuffle them off wherever we go next. You don't need a lofty long term goal, just a next step in mind.”
“Where would you go next?” Alucard asked, genuinely curious.
“Well, I am a hunter by trade. I would go wherever there is work so I can feed my family. It would be prudent to make my way back to France... At least their grandfather may be able to help provide an education for them. But he'd want them to be merchants, and what if they don't want that? Sounds boring to me. But what are my other options? Stay in Wallachia, the place that burned my house down and chased my mother off? Honestly I wish there was a balance. I don't want to depend on Church money, but I don't want my skill sets to be the only skills I can pass down onto my children, so I need money and access to books if they've any hope of not being like me.”
“What if they want to be like you?”
“I would highly discourage it, but if they have other options open to them, then it's their choice. Most hunter's die young, you know.”
“That is something I can agree with. The land is strewn with the bodies of young fools.” He murmured into Trevor's shirt. “You know what my next small step is?” He continued when the Hunter made an interested noise. “I plan to lay here and let you play with my hair until dinner is ready. Then I may be inclined to wash you again. And if you can manage to stay awake for more than a minute past sundown, I'm in the mood to press you down into the mattress and devour what's left.”
After a pensive pause the Hunter replied with a chuckle. “I'm not opposed to this.”
Content, Hunter and Dhampyre dozed back off in their compromising position, Alucard only waking when Sypha returned with Grant on her heels. He remained where he was out of embarrassment on Trevor's behalf, his face hidden away between fabric, hoping they would get about their business swiftly and he could make an escape.
“We should just sew them together and be done with it.” Mused the Rogue.
“I'll get my darning kit.” Sypha cackled in agreement.
When she actually trotted off to follow through, Alucard made that escape.
*****
Several days later it was the Dhampyre who found himself alone sprawled about in a mess of bedsheets, drool crusting the corner of his lips. As with every other waking under this roof, he dressed unhurriedly in a more casual style, mind on things that were the furthest away from the looming danger. His human companions had begun to make minor repairs and venture out to the markets themselves for things they deemed necessary for the final push to Dracula. They were in no rush, heeding his warnings that this was their last true time to rest, and that whatever shape they stepped out of Lupu in was the shape they would be facing the full might of Dracula and his army in. That being said, in between the ample rest, hearty meals, and slow preparation was always that undercurrent of Dracula's curse. No one spoke of it, but they all had their preferred distractions.
He found Sypha downstairs, every pot in the house going with medicinal concoctions, humming some presumably Spanish tune he was unfamiliar with. She gave him a wide grin and a roll of her eyes with an explanation. “The children are outside. I believe they found a ball.” Then, tapping the side of a pot with a spoon to get his attention, she handed the utensil off. “You are not a child are you, Alucard? You will stay and assist me, yes? Stir all these while I strain and dry these others. Thank you.”
“Of course.” He agreed, looking forlornly outside. He'd believed that ball to have been long lost...
The time passed rather quickly assisting the Mage with her restocking. As she shared little hints and secret knowledge he sort of felt like he was a boy again helping his mother mix up poultices. He was almost sorry the task was nearly complete when the Rogue and Hunter burst through the front door in a cacophony of raucous laughter and jeering, all bruised up, dishevelled, and slightly bloody.
“Look at you two.” Sypha all but hissed. “You were playing with a ball. A ball! Whatever happened?”
“I thought I hated to lose, but this guy here,” Trevor slapped the equally bruised Grant on the shoulder. “This guy plays dirty.”
“All is fair in love and war, son.” Grant replied with an equally energetic clap of the brunette's shoulder.
“Children! I am surrounded by children!” The Mage threw up her hands. “Go wash those cuts right now. I am not wasting any of this medicine I spent all day making on your stupidity. You better hope you don't get an infection because I am not helping you.” When her exasperation had no affect, Sypha resorted to chasing them out of the kitchen with one of the larger spoons. “You were very well behaved, so you are free to go.” She dismissed him, and Alucard took the opportunity to flee the house.
His opportunistic flight took him down the footpath to a large pond, where with very little to do he sat in meditative rest, listening to the familiar sound of water lapping at the banks and the occasional plop of a cresting fish jumping for insects. It was simply a relief not to be a subject of the Mage's ire, the poor daft fools.
Speaking of such daft fools, he could hear before he could smell his favourite one come to his side some time later.
“You escaped.” He surmised. “She put Grant to work, I assume.”
“Yeah, he is making jerky. A lot of jerky. I had to wash pots.” Trevor replied from outside his field of vision, the brunette's feet crunching fallen leaves as he moved about.
Curious, Alucard turned to see what the commotion was, delighted to find the Hunter was laying out his blanket roll and pillow, along with some pilfered wine and goblets from the very secret stash of his father's finest he'd kept locked up in the vault below Dracula's marital bed. And a citole. A citole the Hunter wasted no time tossing his direction before he uncorked the wine with a marginally dramatic flourish that was without a doubt, a mock attempt at Alucard's own mannerisms. Seeing as how his parents had not raised an idiot, Alucard took the hint and climbed to his feet, citole in hand, and took a place at the Hunter's side. Once they were both comfortable and Trevor was filling their glasses, he began to play a more thoughtful and contemplative piece of music, one of his own compositions. “I must ask, what is the occasion?”
Rather than reply right away, Trevor instead pulled him gently down to lay against the Hunter's chest, lifting a goblet to his lips so that he could drink without having to cease his strumming. “Does there need to be an occasion?” When Alucard scoffed in disbelief Trevor chuckled. “How about it's a pretty sunset, and the ground and the water look gold. The air is warm, nothing is trying to kill us, and we have two whole bottles of wine to get through. Good enough?”
“Two bottles?” The Dhampyre turned his head to confirm that yes indeed there was another bottle waiting. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Both of us, really. Mostly you.”
“Whatever sinister thing could you be plotting, Trevor Belmont? I'm not sure if I should be delighted or fear for my life.”
“What's the point of a surprise if I tell you?” The Hunter countered, and slipped out from behind him to begin unlacing his boots. Once he was finished with his own, he moved on to Alucard's. “You don't need your boots to play me music, do you?” He asked with a playful smile when Alucard's eyes had narrowed suspiciously. The next three or four sips of wine took the suspicion off his mind. “That is a beautiful melody.” Trevor complimented. “I have been listening to you play sometimes in the morning before you believe anyone else is awake. Why didn't you tell me you were not only an artist but a musician too?”
“How would I remain interesting for you if I just gave all my secrets away, my sweet?” He replied coyly, before admitting more sheepishly. “I am also about out of parlour tricks for you, so don't be expecting anything else.”
“That's all right...” The Hunter grinned wolfishly, leaning in. “I was thinking I might be able to teach you a few new tricks while we have the time.”
“But I already know those tricks, sweet boy. You were a very thorough teacher.” He played along as the fruity wine stole his inhibitions away piecemeal.
Trevor's grin widened as the Hunter crawled up his body to sit in his lap, leaving only enough room between them so that he could keep playing. “It's very warm out. I don't think you need that coat, do you?” The Hunter pushed said garment off his shoulders before reaching out to hold the citole while he shrugged the rest of the way out of his coat. As he handed the instrument back, Trevor leaned closely in and whispered in his ear. “I don't think you need that fake face of yours either. Do you?”
Glamour gone in an instant, the Dhampyre shivered with anticipation, breathlessly whispering back into the Hunter's ear. “Do I have to keep playing this or may I use my hands in a more useful manner?”
“Shh.” Trevor's voice ghosted his ear. “Talented people excite me. Especially musicians.”
So focused was he on such an enticing confession, Alucard never noticed the Hunter had been unbuttoning his shirt until he pushed that garment off his shoulders as well. Soon Dhampyre found himself locked in a struggle to keep the melody going while the younger man kissed anywhere he could reach, and slipped a sure hand into the Moroi's trouser to capture what was just below. Oh, what sweet torture the Hunter's games always swiftly became. Did he know just how greatly his effect was on the poor demon at his mercy, and would he cease his toying even if he did?
“It is very warm out...” The Hunter reiterated with a sigh. “I don't really need all these clothes, do I?' He wondered out loud. “Will you help me with them?”
That citole was tossed so far away, it likely would never be found again. Burning with need and anticipation, the Dhampyre somehow managed to take his time plucking at buttons and ties, revelling in every swatch of flesh he uncovered while the Hunter chuckled softly and drank his share of the wine. Every now and then, leaning in to share the nectar from his lips with a kiss. Unable to liberate the younger man from his trousers without rolling him onto his back, the Dhampyre did just that, peeling small clothes away with them in quick succession. It was quite pleasing to be assisted in removing the last of his own confining layers, as well as incredibly erotic to have nothing between their flesh once again in the amber light. The Hunter's toying had left him slick, hard and aching, and he wanted nothing more than to rub against the warm body below and sink his teeth into their mark. Leaning over, he closed his eyes and was just about to fulfill his desire when Trevor's voice gave him pause.
“How do you feel about this?” The Hunter inquired as he reversed their positions with gentle guidance. Alucard's mind instantly jumped to that night in Fetra, where his pleasure fevered mind had rebelled against the idea of being the prey in such a situation, all while his pleasure fevered body had submit. “You look a little unsure... Sometimes trepidation is an exciting and good feeling.”
“Are you certain you are not a mind reader?”
The Hunter smiled now, just as gentle as his touch. “You are in control, here, Adrian. You can tell me to stop at anytime and I will.”
“What would I be telling you to stop, exactly?” His voice held the tremor of a man about to cross some great unknown, and he could not disguise it.
“You know... In some respects you might be the more innocent one than I.” Trevor mused privately. “You would be telling me to stop trying to seduce you, Adrian. I came here with the intent to do so.”
Blunt and to the point. One could really expect no more or less from a Belmont.
“You are not saying anything... Shall I take you silence as a refusal? It's perfectly all right, Adrian.” The Hunter spoke reassuringly.
“You said I could tell you stop.” Alucard whispered, his decision seemingly made. “I have not told you to stop.”
Tremulous permission now communicated, the Hunter leaned in to kiss and caress him, each touch a slow and gentle reassurance that he was in safe hands. Calmer now, Alucard was able to return the affection, and together they grew playful, the Hunter feeding his ego with compliments and uncaring that they both knew the Dhampyre's narcissism was being taken advantage of. When the penultimate moment did occur, so lost was he in laughter and sensual pleasure, aching with need but enjoying the drawn out game, Alucard only realized the burn and... fullness... when the Hunter's merriment turned to quiet seriousness. Alucard stared blankly as Trevor asked the Moroi if he was still all right, not quite certain if he was anything at all right at that moment.
Wriggling around slightly in a self conscious fashion sent a lightning bolt through his body, and of all the ways he could have reacted to this important moment, this right of passage, this deflowering... Alucard burst out in hysterical laughter.
“Oh, what was a hair-brained idea of mine. I think I broke him.” Uttered the bewildered Hunter. Yet before he could disengage from the Dhampyre, legs encircled his hips and drew his attention back to the creature below, and the fact that they were still firmly slot together. “Are you all right or not?”
Less hysterical now, Alucard tried to nod convincingly whilst coming to terms with the fact he lay splayed and skewered by the smaller man. “I'm sorry. Really. I'm fine. I just... I can feel every inch of you and it's...” He paused a moment, hands clamped over his mouth to keep the laughter in. “You're inside me, Trevor.” His voice managed to squeak out. “We're actually having sex!”
In response the Hunter simply sat back on his haunches, head tipped back with hands reaching for the sky and let out an exasperated noise. “My life is farce!” He declared. “I can't even fuck a half-dead pretty boy without it going egregiously astray.”
“Oh come on, it's my first time. Your first time you didn't even know the girl. At least you knew me ahead of time.” Though spoken through laughter, Alucard was trying to gain some control over himself, and dodge the smack Trevor slung his way for that remark. But none of that was as important as the compliment he'd nearly missed. “You think I'm pretty?”
“I think I am having some second thoughts.” Trevor sighed.
“Don't say that.” Alucard purred, drawing the younger man back to him. “You were doing so well, I was just caught off guard by how it felt. The whole evening has been perfect... The wine, the teasing, you being so assertive and dominate.”
“I am definitely having seconds thoughts.” The Hunter replied flatly, rebuking his flattery as per usual.
“But I have been disrespectful and misbehaved, Mister Vampyre Hunter.” He continued to purr, pulling Trevor back down on top of him as they nestled into the bedroll and pillow. “I think you should stake me.”
“That is absolutely not going to work.” Trevor sighed again with a flat unamused look.
“But you are a powerful Vampyre Hunter and I am just a halfbreed stripling who got in father's way. You are the man who will kill Dracula, are you not? Imagine facing the Lord of the Castle with the knowledge that you, Trevor Christopher Belmont, fucked Dracula's only child?” If the twitch of flesh between them was any indication, this was indeed going to work. “Are you a powerful Hunter or aren't you, Trevor Belmont? Come get your prey.”
There were no hysterics the next time he was penetrated. Only the heat and burn of friction, that grew in waves until all his senses were whited out in the fire. He thought of the Hunter moving against his fingers what seemed a lifetime ago, now completely understanding why Trevor's body had moved the way it had seemingly beyond his control. This joining of bodies and hearts was truly the ultimate pleasure. To care so much for someone and share this experience with them... That was what it meant to make love. To lay as they were, side by side and wrapped up in each other... That was love. It had to be. A strong desire to tell the Hunter once more that he loved him filled his chest, yet something kept him from putting the thought to voice. Rather, he nestled in closer to the body holding him and probed gently for the answer he was still seeking.
“Wouldn't it be nice if we could just do this any time we wanted?” He ventured. “I mean... Would you want to do it again, if you could?”
“You have some potential.” The Hunter joked, but changed his tone to one more genuine when he caught the confused look Alucard was giving him. “I like you, Adrian. I enjoy being with you. I would not mind sharing your bed again if you are agreeable to it.”
“I am glad to hear that... I wasn't sure what to expect but I can see why people would pay to do this now.” He admitted with a soft laugh, allowing himself to be pet while he struggled to find a method to guide the conversation where he wanted it to go. The ever observant Hunter saved him the trouble after some time.
“You have had something on your mind since Aljiba, Adrian. I've caught you out of the corner of my eye almost asking me a question since then two dozen times. Are you ready to ask me now? I mean, we are certainly close enough that you should not be afraid to at this point, don't you think?”
“Well it is not so simple. It has been an evolving question and proposition the more I learn about you every day. Even what we spoke about a few days ago has reshaped this... dream of mine.”
“Whatever did we talk about a few days ago?” The Hunter murmured.
“You asked me about what my next step was.”
“Oh right. I wanted you to have some hope for your future. What I do not want is for us to defeat your father and have you unsure where to put down your foot next.”
“Right... And back in Aljiba you told me to find some purpose and a way to offset the evil I have done. You also reminded me that I am immortal and will have a long time to spend making up for what horrors I have done in the past.”
“Exactly. You'll have a long time to figure out how best to right your wrongs as well. I believe I also said you didn't need to figure that out right that second. One thing at a time.”
“You did... You also misunderstood me when I suggested I could start by helping you, since you are what I consider a force for good. I made you mad, but I didn't mean to, and I don't want to make you mad again so I am afraid to revisit the subject.”
“There is no need to be afraid of me, Adrian. I wasn't even mad, it was more I needed you to understand my duty is my own, and my family's safety is a part of that. I don't want a bodyguard, just a friend. I was just being firm. I'm sorry it came across so harshly to you.”
“You misunderstood me. I wanted my own duty. A man protects his family...” He continued, if a bit hesitant. “I just wondered if maybe... If you could even fathom thinking of me as family... Then I could help you, and not just by watching your back. When you mentioned how you want your children to have options open to them outside of your profession, did you not think of asking for help? I've access to a treasure trove of hidden libraries and workshops. My parents shared with me the wealth of their combined knowledge, and I know a great many wise men and women as old as I, and with far more learning under their belts. If your wish for your sons is for them to be safe as scholars or tradesmen, I can help you make that possible for them. I would love to help you make that possible.”
Abruptly the Hunter sat up, reaching for his clothes. “I can take care of my children. And I will.”
“I know you can do anything, Trevor. But why struggle and have to consider working for a Church you hate when there are other options available to you? I want to help you.” Following the Hunter's lead, Alucard too sat up and began to dress, if forlornly. This conversation apparently was going to end worse than he'd feared.
“How exactly?” Trevor asked through gritted teeth. “With your father's gold and resources, gathered from hundreds of years of suffering on my people's part? It would just be too easy. Nothing in life is easy, Adrian. Human beings are born crying because we know we'll leaving this harsh life the same way, with practically nothing to show for it but our scars and pain.”
“I don't understand why you are so angry with me for wanting to make things less painful for you.”
“I am not angry!” The Hunter spat. “This is life. Struggling is what life is. You'll never survive unless you've been put to the fire and hardened. What you are suggesting is that by simple luck of the draw that I have befriended you, a disgustingly wealthy and pampered demon prince, I should just take advantage of that? Take advantage of that which is not mine, and even worse, that which was probably stolen happiness or security from someone else? There is no such thing as a soft man in my profession, Adrian. They are all dead. And my boys will not be soft. This world won't allow it.”
“How hard do you intend to become, Trevor?” Alucard demanded, himself now angered but this stubbornness. “You are aware that when you put a blade to the fire one too many times it becomes brittle and useless.”
“What are you going on about?”
“Your bloody pride, Trevor. I am doing what you have preached but evidently can not follow through on out of stubborn pride. I am thinking about my future, and the good my next actions could have on the world around us. My father's wealth you so quickly have turned your nose up at is disgusting. But vast. And a resource that should be returned the lands where it can do the most good. And I think the best start would be the education of the youth because as we all know, men acting in blind stupid faith and ignorance is what got us all into this mess in the first place!”
“Wait a minute...”
“I was thinking that maybe if you, an intelligent and tolerant man was able to properly raise even more intelligent tolerant children, they could go on and have even more intelligent children, and maybe one day in the future I could just walk down the street and buy a bottle of wine without there being an uproar. But you would rather I sit on my blood money because it's tainted. I could build schools, Trevor. I could rebuild Aljiba. I could build a place for people like Sypha where they would be safe from stoning and burning, but I can't change the minds of a nation of fools. Only wise and learned leaders can over time. I want to help you, but I bloody well need you to help me too!”
“Okay just... slow down.” Trevor said with raised hands and a shake of his head. “Just so we are very clear. You want to provide the best education gold and your arcane connections can buy, in a gamble that my children can grow up and spread that knowledge. In some long term plan to make the world less ignorant and hateful.”
“Yes. Because it would help you, but it would help everyone.”
“What if they don't want to be scholars. What if they want to be just like me?”
“Then like you said, that is their choice when they have options. They'll still be all the better for learning more than how to skin a warg.”
“Would you really build schools and a place for sorceresses and hedge mages to hide away in? I think you should. I think that is a good idea.”
“Well now that I am thinking about it, yeah I believe I will do all those things I just said. They are all great ideas.”
“Why me specifically? I am probably more capable than a lot of people in Romania right now of providing for my family. If you wanted to do such a noble deed, surely you could find a more desperate pair of children to give this gift to.”
Now fully dressed, he turned his yellow eyes to lock onto the Hunter's pale grey-blue ones and shook his head disbelievingly. “Are you really so hardheaded you haven't considered the truth? I don't love any other children, more desperate or not.”
“You don't even know what they look like.” Trevor scoffed.
“I don't have to have met them to love them. I love you, and I will adore them because they are of you.”
“You have gone crazy, Adrian. It's just not that simple.”
“I'll admit it needs some tweaking, but it's the most logically sound approach to changing the social climate over time, Trevor.”
“I just wanted to come out here and fuck a Dhampyre and now I am... What am I? What are we, getting married or something? Going to live out my life with you in a little house in the mountains?”
“Well now that you mention it, you did say if we survived this you would marry me.”
“When?”
“Right after we escaped the Sunken City of Poltergeists.”
“I...” The Hunter faltered, memory reaching back until he blanched upon finding that particular one. “You know what, fuck your perfect recall. It was the heat of the moment. I thought I was going to die earlier that day.”
“I still do not understand why you are so emotional. It's just my rough plan for after we do what we must. You're acting completely irrational, rejecting sound logic and kindness without proper consideration and getting angry at me for being the hand offering.” The Dhampyre muttered. “And you've soured my first experience making love. The evening was so amazing before this stupid spat, and now I am just annoyed and exhausted. You're always dismissing me unless I am obedient to your games and your rules.”
“Adrian...” The Hunter began and clamped his mouth shut before beginning anew. “You are right to a point. I am rather... resistant to conclusions beyond my own. As well as resistant to the idea of accepting a handout that I don't feel I deserve. This little spat of ours has also dampened the mood significantly, when I truly just did want to come out here and have some fun with you while we have the time to find merriment. You only have one first, and although this was ruined... Maybe like my own first time you'll be able to look back one day and laugh at how ridiculous this all became.” Standing now, the brunette handed him the half bottle remaining of the fine wine, and kissed the crown of his head. “I am not dismissing you, I am dismissing myself to think. All right?”
“Sure.” Alucard replied glumly.
“You haven't done anything wrong.” Trevor insisted.
“Sure.”
He watched the Hunter disappear beyond the bend of a forest foot trail while emptying the wine bottle into the grass. It wouldn't have tasted very good at that moment, anyhow.
*****
Isolation was self imposed, Dhampyre holding no delusions that this was out of anything but pettiness and hurt feelings. He chased the owls and bats the next few nights, enjoying the wind against his fur over the uncomfortable air of the marital chamber. Not that the Hunter was being cold or distant or anything but normal that it would change their dynamic, but a bitterness was growing in Alucard's gut, feeding on his former bliss, and all the more pervasive for having that blissful knowledge to devour. It was all coming to a sudden end, his fantasy, his reality, and who could say if having the opportunity to play house with the Hunter hadn't been a torture he'd brought upon himself after all? His father would be gone, along with his home there, his home here, his life as he knew it, his life as he wanted it to be, and it seemed like even the life he could arrange between Trevor and himself was but a fading dream. The life of sacrifices and meeting half ways, to make love between them work. Trevor would not compromise, it had become apparent. Trevor never even entertained the idea.
Trevor Belmont had also never agreed to anything but what came naturally, organically. So the bitterness was aimed inwards. It wasn't the Hunter who let him down, he had been the one to foolishly pin all his hopes on the poor man. Why did he love something so earnestly that it's rejection would destroy him? How could they have so much fun together and what felt like such a deep understanding bond yet there be no love but from his one side? All those pining heroes and heroines in his picturebooks made this whole situation seem more romantic than it truly was. Tales of romance and fantasy had been horribly misleading. It was not beautiful to yearn for unrequited love, offering your fragile heart to the void. It just hurt, and made one feel like a fool.
Little bat feet gripped his perch more forcefully than needed, and he swung to hang upside down, wondering if the change in perspective would aid in changing his sour mood.
“Gotcha.” Announced the Hunter in triumph, as Alucard was plucked from out of his tree. “I caught twelve other bats this evening looking for you. Lucky number thirteen.”
Shifting back into proper form, Alucard dusted himself off, straightening his cloak and in such a deliberately slow fashion. “You could have called out. I have exceptional hearing. I'd have come if you called.”
“There is no sport in an easy hunt.”
“Moroi prefer the sick and wounded. Evidently.” He bristled in spite of best efforts. Continuing more civilly, he asked. “What can I help you with?”
“That is my question it turns out. I would like to extend an olive branch as it was my obstinate attitude that has fouled several of your days. I have been thinking quite a lot about what you've said... A lot of what you have spoken of since we first really started talking beyond mere travel companions with a mutual end goal. I have weighed my actions, and my treatment of you and what you selflessly offer me and that I take advantage of...”
“Oh.” Alucard made a pensive, reluctant noise. These heavier emotional conversations predominately made things worse in his limited experience. “I don't want anything you won't give, Trevor. Let's leave it at that. You do not owe me anything.”
“The scales are quite unbalanced, wouldn't you agree?”
“The scales are as you've loaded them. My hands have no control on your weights and measures.”
“That's true... And they are tipped rather heavily on one side, I believe. Do you not?”
The Dhampyre could not stop the anguished expression from twisting his features. “I do not want to argue with you. I do not want another useless quarrel. What do you want me to say to get you to drop this needling line of questioning?”
“Only the truth, Adrian.”
“To what end? So you may get the odd pleasure you must achieve when you shut me down so swiftly without even listening to what I am telling you? It must bring you some satisfaction since you are keen to do so every chance you get.”
Unfazed by his ire, the Hunter nodded in agreement. “So in your roundabout way, you would agree I am an the asshole here?”
Caught between a rock and a Belmont, Alucard threw up his hands in defeat. “Yes, I do. I would also say you are baffling and confusing, and I don't know what you want with me. You said we could figure it out together but you do all the figuring in your own head and won't let me reason mine. Am I to wait until you've figured what part or act you'd like me to play, like an obedient Moroi? I will do that as well, if it stops another spat. Or is this what this conversation is about? Have you already decided my place for yourself?”
This time he could see a hint of shame flash in the Hunter's blue eyes before he responded, taking a moment to chose his words with care. “I think I need more than one olive branch...” Trevor murmured before continuing. “I never intend to argue with you. I speak how I speak, and I am aware it is blunt and not always careful of others emotions.”
“You are awful at apologizing.” Alucard interjected.
“I am the worst at apologizing. I apologize for that too. Your offers have been logical and it is my stubborn pride and my guilt that won't allow me to consider them. My treatment of you was not fair. It was the angry lashings of a deeply conflicted man. Each time. I know that in my core. As is my rigidness in other matters. I wanted to tell you before you made any final decisions out here in the forest that I truly do want you to have a place in my life after all this. It should be a place you chose yourself, and how I accept that into my own space is the only thing I should control.”
“Trevor... I have been very obvious how I feel. It's okay if you cannot be. It is all right if you haven't been able to make up your mind, or if you never will be able to. All I will ask is that you do not turn that frustration on me. My wanting to help you should not be so offensive. It is not a slight, or a vote of no confidence in your ability to care for yourself. It's just one friend wanting to help another friend because he has the ability and the desire.”
“They are all good ideas, You know. Those things you said about a haven for others like you and offering the next generation more than a bible to educate themselves. Rebuilding Aljiba. Those are all wonderful paths you could walk, and you have the time to walk them all. And I would be a fool to deny my children the opportunity to know more and be more than I'll ever be simply because I know that what you so openly offered with no repayment in mind is more than I could ever hope to provide. I don't have those means, and no matter what I did, I will never achieve them in my lifetime no mater how much I wish otherwise.”
Quietly between them, the Vampyre Killer was unravelled from a belt loop and held up. Though there was no danger, it gave off a faint light. Responding to the emotions of it's master, perhaps.
“May I confess something to you?” Trevor pleaded in a whispering tone. “I know I have no right to use you as a crutch right now. But may I?”
What else could Alucard do but nod? He knew he could never refuse Trevor Belmont, not now or ever.
“I never wanted this legacy. I never wanted anything to do with hunting or my birthright. I am good at it. Damn good, modesty aside. But it's not what I wanted. I wished I had never left the forests in France. I would have been happy to study the creatures I instead kill. Once I had children things changed. I had to feed them, and I had the skills in this fashion to provide for them. So I was happy to do what I had never wanted any part of, if it meant that they would never have to do this either. It's why I am here. It's why I am walking into Dracula's domain. So they are never asked to do the same.”
“...I understand you.”
“Do you really? Do you know all my talk and convictions are driven not by honour, duty or courage?”
“You are the very definition of those things.”
“Maybe I am at a glance, but they are not what is driving me. It's terror, Adrian. I am terrified. And the closer we get to that castle, the more terrified I become. I want to run back to Wallachia and bring my children here to stay in your little bubble of safety. Even if it is wrong to rob them of growing up and knowing the world. I am terrified of what's on the other side of Lupu's barrier. It would be so easy to stay here with you forever. Too easy. Too tempting. It's cowardly and wrong, and it's not what I will choose, but the thought has crossed my mind. If... If I fail in the coming days or weeks ahead... I know it is my sons who will be forced to complete my failed task. I am absolutely terrified the only family I have left will die as I know I one day will. Alone, surrounded by the demons of the night, and far before their time.”
Fear a thick perfume in the air, Alucard shook his head to focus passed the scent, reaching out to grab the smaller man by his shoulders as he looked unsteady.
“This is the true reason I am how I am. When I stop for even a moment my mind turns to this terror. When you offer me kindness I want equal parts to take it and run. I need your gentleness more than you know. I can't sleep without you by my side. What you offer me and my family I want so terribly, but I just can't think about it right now. I can't think of much right now beyond that I want to go home. If I fall apart here, I believe that you will gather all my pieces and keep them safe, but I'll never pull them back together. Do you understand? I can't be vulnerable or weak. Not because I am not, but because I can't be. Not until this is over. However... When this is over... If we manage to pull off the impossible and retain our lives... I fear that I will be very much in need of someone to take care of me for a little while after. It would not be so frightening a future if I knew that person would be you.”
Thoughtful in the stretching silence between them, Alucard took the Hunter's hands in his own. “It was not fair for fat old men to make a child shoulder so much.” He stated simply. What more could he say? “What do you need me to do between now and when we leave Lupu?”
The edges of the Hunter's forlorn lips twitched at the corners, almost a smile. “I wanted to have fun. To pretend what is going to happen is not going to happen for just a little bit more. But what you said made me think... It is true that we always play my games and by my rules because I am afraid of letting go of control. That is not fair to you. What we are doing is affecting you probably more so than any of us. I've the impression you have been wanting to pretend things are not what they truly are while we are here too.”
“You are not wrong.”
“So... I wanted to give you an olive branch. You can pick the game, and I will play how you want. Perhaps we can both put the inevitable out of our minds for a little while longer, and maybe I can learn to be less afraid of going outside my rule book. Let's just... have fun, Adrian. Let's just be. In case we never can be again.”
“Thank you, Trevor. For finally letting me see all of you.” Alucard smiled simply. “You know how I feel, and we can deal with that when the work is done. For now, I can think of a particular game I've had in mind since Aljiba. My rules are very loose, you'll find. I might even let you pick the colour.” He dangled.
“Oh?” The Hunter took the bite, the prospect of an amusing distraction already pushing his worries back into the dark recesses of his too troubled mind. “What exactly do you have in mind, I have to wonder? Regardless, I pick blue. Whatever it is for.”
“It's for the dress, of course.” He replied, the distraction also elevating his darkened mood. “You said you were the finest looking bride in all of France, and your wife used to dress you up in her designs. I want to play dress-up with a pretty life size doll. I bet I can pile and curl that hair too. And then I want to undress you. We might keep some hosiery and garter on though. The rules I am still working out, but we could decide a few on the way to the market. Care to join me?”
Wearing an intense blush, the Hunter acquiesced. “You better make sure that bedroom door is locked.”
The work would be done... But for another few carefree nights, it could wait.
Chapter 22: New World
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
July 2037 ~ Suginami ward, Tokyo
“It's just a liability issue, Trevor.” Alucard tried to explain, momentarily forgetting there was virtually no frivolous litigation such as falling on the floor back in the fifteenth century. He instead opted for something simpler and ultimately, fictitious. “It's a local custom for the caregivers here. Don't be rude.”
The young Belmont passed his pale blue eyes coolly over the wheeled contraption with a hint of suspicion. After all, the invention of the first wheelchairs were roughly two hundred years away as far as the brunette's proper place in time. “You do realize that this looks like something your father would have created, right? I can just see blades or spikes coming out of those wheels, or the seat actually being some king of catapult.” Only when Alucard stood patiently firm in silence in the face of the younger man's stalling tactics, did Trevor finally surrender to the 'whims of the Orient' and take a seat. Once settled, he looked over his shoulder back up to the smiling orderly, returning one with just a hint of discomfort. “I feel like I am in a funerary procession. Or a wheelbarrow.”
With a soft laugh exhaled, the Dhampyre threw the packed bag of belongings Trevor had acquired during his hospital stay into his lap. “Then be a good wheelbarrow and hold your own stuff.” This drew a delighted laugh from the Hunter Alucard took a moment to cherish, so happy to have whatever Yoko and Julius had done to improve Trevor's mood so far be sustained.
Speaking politely with the orderly he followed the small procession out of the hospital room and into the elevator, always taking a moment to gauge how the young Belmont was doing with the new stimuli. He did not seem to enjoy the lurch of the moving elevator, nor the crowding as each floor admitted a patient, staff or family member. Nor did he seem to enjoy being told that Alucard would have to leave him with the orderly for a few minutes once they'd reached the ground floor, but that could not be helped. The Dhampyre moved quickly out the main doors across the parking lot, but spent perhaps too many pointless minutes making sure his freshly detailed car was spotless in some bizarre act of vanity, and desire to always make the best of impressions. It was not like Trevor had ever seen a car before. He wouldn't know a Bentley from Sedan DeVille and this was just Alucard's own stalling tactic. If a vain one. Without further delay, the Dhampyre paid his visitors parking and crept up to the hospital's main entrance, deep breath already taken before he stepped out the driver's side to reunite with his friend.
At they very least, it was heart warming to see the brunette's face light up when he stepped back through those doors. The hard part was about to begin whether the boy knew it or not, so it was best to just appreciate that for now, Trevor seemed content and even a little excited to see this new country he'd found himself in. Alucard motioned him to get out of the wheelchair and follow, a task he took no time to complete, even remembering to turn and give a little bow and arigato to the orderly before joining him. Briefly, of course, before Trevor all but ran outside to take in the new world. Blissfully unaware that the protective and insulating stasis that was this hospital stay would be gone forever.
Nerves steeled, Alucard followed, finding Trevor in a slow turn as he took in the sky high buildings, wiring, landscaping, traffic lights, traffic, and endless ceaseless noise. He seemed overtaken and pale, the hand not holding his backpack half raised to his ear, as if covering it would block out the cacophony of the modern age. Familiar sounds of trees and wildlife drowned out with the mechanical, and amplified. So terribly terrifyingly amplified. The Dhampyre stepped silently around him, breaking the awed trance, and opened the passenger side door. He bid the boy get in, and Trevor recognizing that there was some kind of seat inside the metal contraption obliged, if in a bit of a daze. The door slamming shut startled him even when it happened the second time as Alucard slid behind the wheel. The mighty Belmont hunter of legend almost meekly allowed the Dhampyre to reach across him and draw the buckle, securing it with a dreadfully final click. There was no getting off this ride that Alucard could see.
“Is your metal chariot so dangerous?” Trevor asked, pulling at the seatbelt. Based on the weak tone, the question most certainly was a means to self test if he had any voice left after the shock.
“Not while I am steering.” He calmly assured his passenger. “I cannot account for the actions of others on the road, however.” He added with a bit of levity to ease Trevor's apprehension. “You will like this mechanical wonder, I think. It's called a car. It goes very fast. Faster then the swiftest horse you've ever ridden.”
“I guess that explains the... protection.” Came the skeptical reply, as the boy continued to play with the seatbelt. He startled again when the ignition flared and the engine started. “Well it certainly sounds like a horse.”
Alucard spared him a small smile before he took his foot off the brake, rolling out into the metaphorical great unknown that would be their joint lives in the coming days. For a little while he simply drove in silence, letting Trevor stare out the windows at all the passing traffic and pedestrians, the buildings in every crowded shape and size, dotted with every kind of signage all in languages the Hunter had never seen. Bicycles and mopeds weaving in and out seemed to draw his attention away from the lights and advertisements when they darted past closely, but his eyes always returned to the blinking above and flashing screens eager to sell him the latest phone or hook him on the next upcoming Idols. Not to say the water and tall cedars here and there did not also draw his eyes.
“It didn't seem possible...” Trevor murmured. “I did not believe you were lying to me, but somehow in my heart I just couldn't believe I wasn't going to see Romania when I stepped out of that convalescence home. This truly is a strange land, Adrian. Not a single thing looks familiar to me. I am a little overwhelmed.” A pause, a sigh, and then an admission followed. “I am incredibly overwhelmed. I want to know what all this is and how it works, why it works, and why it even exists to begin with but there is so much I want to know I don't know where to start. Look at how fast we are travelling!” Trevor suddenly exclaimed with with an almost giddy expression. “Look how fast that car is going!” He pointed to a reckless speeder, unbeknownst that were it not for Trevor's presence in the car and this being his first experience with one, Alucard would be the reckless driver speeding. “Where is this car taking us? I mean you. You are steering, you said.”
It was a little hard to take his eyes off the open wonder that was Trevor's expression, but driving required the occasional attention directed towards the road. As he signal to turn down the main drag towards his rented home, he answered with a bit of his own giddiness, in spite of the personal apprehension. “We are going to my home here, actually. It's where I have been working on a few cases... Hunts, I guess you could call them. You are more then welcome to stay with me in my home while we sort out the case of the mysterious witch who held you captive. We think it would be a good idea to not have you alone at least for a little while.”
“This is because I do not speak the language or know the land or the customs.”
“Yes.” Alucard replied honestly.
“It is also because you are not certain this witch won't be coming back for me.” Trevor guessed correctly. “It's okay.” He assured the slightly tensed Dhampyre. “If I had had somebody watching my back the first time, perhaps this visit would have been voluntary. I am willing to admit I really fucked things up. I don't recall how, but clearly I must have.”
“You just need time, that's all. The memories will come when you are ready for them, and not before. Based on your injuries and what vague details you do recall, it was very traumatic. The mind guards itself when it must. I think some rest in a room that is not perpetually bright, in a bed that does not have rails, and some European classic entrees will do wonders for your troubled mind.” With a slight moment to consider, he added. “And some fine wine.”
“That's the favourite word of a couple of people I know.”
“I think I also know this same couple of people.” Satisfied with eliciting yet another laugh from his passenger, Alucard pointed to the modest home wedged between some trees, with a western style tall fenced backyard he'd commissioned. The property backed up to a creek and stood opposite a small nature park. “This is the place.” The Dhampyre's masked illusion faded following his announcement, his intention to make this as welcoming as possible by wearing his own face. “You can take that off now.” He instructed once parked, and removed his own seatbelt. Trevor was just figuring out the buckles release when Alucard came around to the passenger side and opened the door for him. “Welcome to my home, Trevor.”
“The plants are beautiful.” Trevor noted climbing free, stopping to take in his new surroundings. As before, he turned slowly every which way to take it all in. “There are a lot of homes here, and there were so many people in the city. It's really incredible... Oh. I'm sorry. Thank you for inviting me in.”
Alucard waved off the minor indiscretion but the awkwardness in the Hunter's tone made him choose to bring his friend in via the backdoor. He guided Trevor who clutched the backpack like a pillow into his small backyard garden, ancient tree and flowerbeds all welcome serenity surrounding his small fire pit aside the trellis. The natural setting and fencing hiding the cluster of homes did indeed work some magic, having a calming effect on the hunter. “Just through here.” He guided, sliding open the garden facing door with it's usual scratching resistance due to being slightly off track. With his permission Trevor stepped into his living room to marvel at his book collection, antique weapon and art display, and the chabudai setting with it's hand crafted tea set. “It's not much. The homes are small here.” Alucard excused, again out of some kind of bizarre vanity. “This is the living area, the front entrance is just across there. It's okay to take of your shoes off here.” He continued to give the small tour in a slight rush, realizing that he was suddenly quite nervous and unsure how to combat the feeling. “The kitchen is here, please help yourself as you wish. Glasses up here, plates just below. You remember how the fridge and taps and oven work, right? I can show you again if you have forgotten.” Arm out to usher back towards the living room, he instead directed the boy through one of two large openings in the living room wall that lead to a simple bedroom and ensuite bathroom. “You will be sleeping here, please put you bag down anywhere.” While Trevor acquiesced, dropping the pack on the end of the bed, Alucard straightened out his slightly disarrayed clothing he caught sight of in the mirror. “How about some tea?”
“How about that wine?” The Hunter suggested instead. “You know... To celebrate. Our first meeting in such a long time was not exactly the best way to rekindle a friendship.”
“I am starting to think wine is also your favourite word, Trevor Belmont.” Alucard quipped, but honestly was kind of relieved to have something that might ease his own nerves. “Follow me... This over here is my study. All my work is done inside.” He explained punching in the security code to unlock the door opposite his bedroom from the living room. “And a lot of my drinking as well.”
Inside this private sanctuary was exactly as he had left it. Tidied of the more incriminating evidence of the temporal kind, such as recent dated documents and calendars. All the sketches of Sypha, Grant and their children gathered together with the ones of Trevor's own and many other descendants, and locked in a large desk drawer. Airtight and temperature controlled storage for the most ancient of possessions were also locked up tight and covered with a spare table cloth. To the young Belmont who stepped in after him, the room was like any other study, reading chair and side table just by the door, next to more bookshelves which were next to an artist drawing table and accoutrements. The main desk and laptop, papers scattered but all in ordered fashion, were to expected. The piano with a resting violin in one corner and leather couch and coffee table not out of the ordinary, as if ready to give a private performance to close friends. There was a headless statue of a nude man that perhaps drew a little attention. Of course, behind the main desk, nestled comfortably on a handmade custom dais was his finely crafted coffin, fitted with the plushest of fabrics and finest gilded work this side of Italy. The wine display overlooked the Piano stage, and that was precisely where Alucard stepped to next, selecting a classic French red and two perfectly polished goblets.
Trevor walked the perimeter of the room, taking in the volumes on the shelves, the partially completed drawings, the odd electronic equipment on the desk, and settled on the coffin. He reached out gingerly to touch it, almost as if he was committing a crime by running his hand along the filigree. With a keen eye he found the release and watched the coffin lid slide open with a satisfied noise. He seemed pleased with the softness of the material he found inside, and for some reason that made Alucard oddly proud of his selection. Next he pulled a large labelled file from Alucard's previous cases, at a glance the 1986 fiasco that lead up to the Demon Castle War in 99. Trevor really didn't need to know about Jonathan Morris at this junction. Before Alucard could jump to snatch the telling collection of research notes and photos away Trevor seemed to realize he was looking at another man's personal work and politely placed the file back with an apology, explaining he had been hoping to find more drawings.
“Come over here and sit.” Alucard beckoned, lifting the now filled wine glass. “Let me see if I can find you some pretty pictures to stare at while you get settled. He left Trevor to pick a side of the couch and went fishing for innocuous pen and watercolours that betrayed no time and place. He found one small travel journal of the French and Belgian countryside and offered it up to keep those busy hands occupied. “Feel free to compliment my fine work and attention to detail.”
“Oh, I will.” Trevor replied, impossible to tell if the tone was truthful or sarcastic. He sat quietly sipping his wine and turning the pages of the travel journal almost mindlessly before true to Belmont fashion, cut right to the chase. “How long have you been here in Japan? In this little house, that seems very much at odds with the Adrian I had come to know.”
Deflecting, Alucard replied. “The little house came courtesy of my employment, not by my choice, I'll have you know. And there is nothing wrong with it.”
“You didn't answer the question.”
“Years, Trevor. I have been here for a few years. What's wrong with my house you will be sleeping in?”
The Hunter laughed, nearly choking on his wine. “There is nothing wrong with it. It's just not you. This room is closer to you, but did say you spend most of your time in here. The rest of it is very beautiful in it's simplicity... but it does not whisper Adrian to me. My mother said that as a hunter I would get a sense of spaces and the kinds of people who inhabit them. Maybe my skills are losing their edge due to my unfortunate luck of late, but it seems like you only pass through everything out there. You don't really inhabit it.”
Always such a deeply ponderous boy, that Belmont. “Your skills and observation have not lost their edge, evidently. I never did nor do I intend to stay here. So in a sense, I am just passing through this space. Like you, Trevor, when this is all done with... with this witch whom I intend to be the last hunt of these lands for a good while... I intend to go home, Trevor. To my real home in Wallachia. And before you ask, yes I intend to take you there with me.”
“Well, I think that deserves a toast.” The Hunter lifted his glass. “To finding your magickal menace and returning to loved ones.”
“To old friends, as well.” Alucard added, clicking his glass. “May their memories ease any future pain.” He concluded, downing the goblet's contents.
“So... How can I help you with this witch? What do you know?” Ever a Hunter in spite of personal preferences, the Belmont's pale cobalt eyes glistened with the excitement of a new prey, and the burning desire for a little revenge.
Ever eager to get to the heart of matter, these blasted Belmonts. Dogs with bones, every single one. Would it have killed Trevor to just take an evening off and be amazed at all the new things around him? Would it have killed the Hunter to just be his friend for the day before following this inevitable path to heartache? Even for Alucard's sake? The Dhampyre felt his expression firm before the words left his mouth, a touch more snippish then he would have liked. “You can help by settling in and getting comfortable here first. Maybe when you finally relax you will remember something vital.”
Whether the Hunter caught his snippy tone was unclear. “That is what your friend Julius said. But everything is a void. At night I sometimes think I remember things that were very unpleasant. Likely as I was in the darkness for so long. That truly is the only thing I recall vividly. But whenever I try to capture a glimpse beyond the dark and pain I feel a curtain drop between my thoughts and the memory. Perhaps what I actually need is a little information to jostle the memories free?”
“You've not even been here an hour. Couldn't we do this tomorrow?” The Hunter shook his head. “After dinner?” Another shake. “After the wine?”
“Wine is a wonderful lubricant for conversation. Give me the shortest summation you can. It's for a good cause.”
Yellow eyes met pale blue in a battle of wills that the Dhampyre knew would only end in one way. Still he put up a valiant fight, trying to logically assure himself that it was too soon for Trevor to be given current event details. Every smidgen of knowledge would push him forward to realizing it was not just the geography that was altered. The realization of this cruel truth was unavoidable and the only certainty in their future, but how they reached it was still being choreographed. Alucard knew his footing was liable to give out, so he proceeded with caution.
“Very well...” Stalling was permissible here. “I have a friend. An ancient Vampyre. He has a huge wealth of connections and ties to many of my demonkind. I had tidied up a mess in Japan when this Vampyre's connections informed him there was a lot of disturbances in the energies. Worldwide reports of odd spiritual fluxes, but mostly centred in South America. You remember that continent from the map I showed you right?” Trevor nodded. “The hotspot changed to Los Angeles in North America, and now here. My friend informs me what those friends of his learn, and I share with him what we have discovered on site here to relay back. It is a kind of information network between hellspawn, demons and the rest of the more fringe groups of humans that has existed for many centuries now. We have been working together of late to puzzle out some commonalities. There have been a lot of missing women with similar stories who have suddenly vanished from their homes. It could be coincidence for many, but I am currently trying to get records on the visitors to this island to see how many of these women that vanished may have ended up in Japan as one avenue. We did find a coven of witches in the woods a few hours from this location, but it looked to be only one of many hideouts. Certainly not large or lived in enough to support the size of the members we do suspect. We did encounter their high priestess preforming sacraments inside. Based on the study of the area and the residual energies, Yoko and I have determined with certainty that she was trying to rip open the Veil between my world and yours. And to do so she was using the lifeblood of many innocents... as well as yours.” Alucard paused to pour and down more wine, if only for a moment to plan his next words carefully. “We found you on her alter. So drained of blood I truly thought you dead. I did not even know it was you. I almost threw you on the funerary pile, that's how dead you appeared to be.”
Blue eyes broke from Alucard's gaze to stare into the dregs of the goblet held limply in his hands. Slowly the Hunter placed the glass on the table, freeing him to shrug out of the borrowed coat. As if ashamed, Trevor next presented his wrists turned upwards, where the two of them could see the long repeated scars where his veins had been opened up time and time again. “It was not the first time. That is obvious.”
Voice hitched, Alucard reached out and traced the scars with his fingertips. Vampyric senses could feel the pulse below, blood singing a siren song to his suppressed appetite. They hung there a moment together, frozen in shared shame before the Dhampyre could find the words to speak. “I do believe that she intended it to be the last... If we had not intervened. Do you see now why I wanted to wait until at least after dinner?”
The Hunter pulled his arms back, rubbing the scars self consciously, but did not hide away under the coat as he had before. “I would rather finish this day on a good note with good food then the foul tale of my own defeat and possible connection to a catastrophe of my own failing. What did she want in the Veil?”
“The exact same thing that millions before have wanted in that space between. The Castle, or at the very least a connection to it and the power one can draw from doing so.”
“We are never safe from fools or that damn Castle, are we?”
“From fools... no. The Castle is gone. Walter is gone. Dracula is gone. Her scheme would have ultimately failed in it's grandest intention, but she still could have latched a tendril onto it with her efforts, and even that is too dangerous to chance. A fraction of the Castle's nigh limitless power is still a power unfathomable to most.”
“You will have no argument from me about that. Is there anything you do know about her? You battled her?”
“She is tanned in skin colour and has long dark coils of curled hair. Her command over her coven was absolute, and I wonder if that has something to do with her familiar. She had a compelling aura about her of which even I was at risk of falling under. She went toe to toe with me for a fair bit of time before her monstrous creations gave her the out she needed. As for her powers, there is still much she was hiding, I am sure. However, she was able to manipulate the corpses of her victims and turn them into flying monstrosities, and she was able to slip away without a trace I could find. We later found her familiar, a creature I... well it was very unusual. We gave chase and managed to pin it down for a time. Enough to conclude it must be where she is drawing her powers of seduction. Whether she can also summon demons or simply tame them is up for debate.”
“She went toe to toe with you, hmm?”
“I did not touch her once. It was quite aggravating, looking back.”
“And this familiar got away from you too?”
“That creature I was completely enamoured with. A demon of Desire without peer, I will bet all I own on that. Identifying this demon is another avenue of research we are pursuing. Before you ask, it was black as ink, but also it bent light. It blended with it's surrounding perfectly. Had a long tail and wings, but seemed to mostly glide from tree to tree.”
“That is in the Bestiary.” Trevor stated matter-of-factly to Alucard's surprise. “I don't remember what it is called off the top of my head but it is in there. If you touch it, it can sap your will and strength, but it has to be skin to skin contact. It only seems to eat fruit and vegetables, abhorring meat, and it will eat all you have on hand if you don't stop it. A bit of a glutton. The wings are for flying too. It can get above the tall trees but not much higher then that. It wasn't particularly fast in the air except when gliding from tree to tree as you witnessed. It was beguilingly strong too, if I recall correctly. There is more, I'm certain but I am drawing a blank. I'm sorry, I used to know the Bestiary cover to cover as a boy but I guess I should have taken some time to reread what I studied while I was completing my own entries.”
It was Alucard's turn to choke on his wine. He placed his glass down next to Trevor's and got up to fetch a pen and notebook, hastily jotting down the facts now just revealed. “No need for apologies, this is great, Trevor. I will try to look a little harder with this new information. Is there anything else you recall? Are there more of them? Where did it come from?”
“Canaan. I think it's one of a kind. Or there are so few of them that they are mistaken for the same one.” Trevor sighed, but when he caught Alucard's eye next, he was smiling. “It's not quite the memory I was hoping to rekindle with this talk, but I am glad I could help you a little. It's too bad the Bestiary is back at home in Wallachia.”
“That is unfortunate.” Alucard pivoted, leaving that truth for another day. “She is still out there certainly plotting or continuing along on a back up plan. After dealing with her so briefly, I am confident she didn't put all her eggs in one basket. That's a talent I have picked up in the years spent playing a hunter as well. If she needs you, she will come for you. I've no doubt about that too.”
“So even if I cannot remember anything about her specifically, I am still good bait.” Trevor concluded and put up his hands to show he took no offence at the idea. “I would very much like for her to come for me. I think that would make me feel a lot better about my circumstances at the moment.”
“Well,” Alucard interjected. “I would very much prefer to catch her unaware and on my own terms, then have her slink in like a thief in the night to take you. As I rather doubt it would be a quiet or clean affair.” He watched Trevor fill their wine glasses once more and accepted the offered glass.
“Thank you.” The Hunter said softly. “It is not such a frighteningly lost feeling with some sense of purpose. I will try not to get in your way or distract you too much.” He promised, of course not knowing it was a promise he could not keep. At no fault of his own, either.
“Trevor...” Alucard started, unsure how to phrase his desire to have Trevor at his side in all matters, now just as in the past. Nothing had or ever would change that. The Hunter cut him off without seeming to hear his plaintive voice.
“Do you play that strange instrument too? I don't recall you ever picking one up back in Lupu.”
Alucard followed the Hunter's gaze to the violin resting atop his piano and shook his head. “No, that belongs to a friend and he plays it for me when he visits. It's called a violin.” The strange bemused look Trevor gave him made the Dhampyre narrow his eyes and ask. “What?”
“You told me I was your first friend, remember? I'm just glad to see you have other friends, that's all.” The Hunter shrugged. “Is that your Vampyre friend's violin?”
Seeing no harm in the truth, Alucard nodded. “He is extremely talented, having been playing since it was invented.” Then, quick to move the conversation along before Trevor could ask when exactly the violin was invented and cursing his foolish slip up, he asked his own question. “What about you? You seemed to delight in musicians. In our time spent apart did you ever pick up your own instrument and learn to play something? For some reason I can imagine you with a lute in your lap.”
Trevor laughed and shook his head. “Only if you count my voice.” The Hunter fell quiet for a moment before admitting sheepishly. “I have actually been building a lot things in my spare time, to be honest. It started out of necessity but I think I enjoy it. I built the most comfortable chair, spent weeks carving leaves and flowers into the frame and far too much silver on velvet and gold thread to sew a cushion. But when I work on the Bestiary or my other notes sitting in it, I am so comfortable and so relaxed... And quite proud about my handiwork.” A little more bold, he continued. “The whole thing started when I built Sypha this curio cabinet after she complained the children kept getting into her herbs and tinctures. There were hidden compartments I designed for her to stash the poisonous or rash causing ones. You know how it is when she compliments you or your work. She's so stingy with them you feel like your walking on air after she spares you one.”
This brought conflicting feelings that battled for Alucard's attention. The heartache of a long lost friend, her firm but gentle demeanour as deeply missed as the levity her shenanigans had always brought. Alucard laughed because yes, he did remember what it was like to be in her good books for the hot minute one managed to be, but there was also an ugly mess of feelings run undercurrent. His jealousy and resentment of a woman long dead and whom had been his friend right up to her dying breath for nothing more then being the object of Trevor's affection deeply shamed him. Still... To carry on the charade that Sypha was only a continent away he managed in a fairly unemotional tone to reply. “I was always her favourite, you do know that, right?”
Trevor surprised him with a defeated agreement. “You were the most well behaved, without question.” Cool blue eyes regarded him before pressing on. “But then what were you doing all this time? Not the chasing of the Castle part, I mean around that? You could have written a letter or two in all that time, certainly?”
Once again, the Dhampyre flinched under this line of questioning. The easy peace between hunter and demon threatening to dissolve back into blame, spite, hurtful accusations and possible violence. “I told you already.” Alucard defended between grit teeth. “Time is not the same for my kind. Without you around me all the days blended together. I really had no idea it had been so long, and by the time I did realize, you had vanished.”
“You didn't answer the question.”
Beyond frustrated, the Dhampyre dived deep into his memories of that time he spent watching the Hunter and his family in Wallachia and the woods surrounding it. Always so close to his object of affection yet always too afraid to take the steps into that village where his mother's end had come about. It seemed it did not matter that it was Trevor that awaited him within the walls back then. It would always be the place his mother was murdered. “I was grieving.” He finally admitted with audible anger. More at himself then the circumstances at the time. “I was completely lost and I wanted to find some purpose and start on a path to make amends before I came back to you. I was afraid that if I had taken your offer on the spot before we parted ways I would have been unworthy of you. Always needing you to find my place in this world, when you always wanted me to have my own, independent of you.”
“You could have said so. I could have helped you without letting you become too dependent upon me. We decided we would just be as we were and figure it out together, remember? I did have things still I wanted to figure out with you, as well. Where we were going to go and how I was going to tell my children when the time came. What we were going to do with our lives really did not matter to me so long as it was with you. You must have changed your mind. Or at the very least not been as certain as I. Which really, you were the one chasing me from the first time I walked into your crypt.” The brunette's eyes shut fast and he took a deep breath. “Your grief did not have to be your own burden. I had my hand in causing you that pain, as much as it pained me. Not just because I owed it to you did I want to give you a semblance of stability in your grief. I loved you, and I wanted to take care of you too.”
Wearily, the Dhampyre downed the last of his wine and set the glass back down once more. “What do you want me to say? I could make all the right choices in the past with the wisdom of the future I now possess. I wish I had walked through those gates and fell into your arms, but I never made that choice.” He watched the Hunter down the last of his goblet and stand to place both glass and sketchbook on the coffee table before he mustered the courage to finish his thought. “I wish I had let you take care of me in my weak moment so that I could have taken care of you in yours. I wish I had kept my promise, but I am glad that Sypha was there for you when you finally could fall apart. That at least she was there to gather your pieces and hold them in place.”
Trevor Belmont, ever the sensitive yet coldly calculating young man stood silent and still, turning over Alucard's confession and measuring it with the facts against the Hunter's own feelings, no doubt weighing all the odds. The space between the last words uttered in the room stretched, the boy still turning over the myriad of truths and troubles that must have been plaguing his mind, formulating the follow up questions he would most certainly have. Ready to pull them out like a hidden knife when the time came, Alucard left him to his famous Belmont Pause, unwilling to interrupt the method. Instead he allowed his own mind to draw blank, willing the anxiety and ugliness to leach out of his mind, cordoned off in a place where he could acknowledge their existence but not their effect. The meditative state maintained until he felt the couch bend under the weight of the Hunter's knee. Without any tension in the touch, the smaller body folded into him, as the Hunter embraced Dhampyre. Trevor's body warm and supple, and as memory served, fit perfectly into the arms he found raising to return the affection. The scent off the Hunter was intoxicating. Fine aromas of oxytocin, serotonin and dopamine mixed in with his own earthy sweet notes, sent the Dhampyre straight into riding his own high of feel good hormones.
“Sypha was as supportive as she could be, given how much she came to realize she'd lost while entombed in stone for decades, it turned out. Knowing she was struggling, I never could bear to burden her with my own weakness, so I did not shatter as I wished I could. Hers weren't the hands that could fix me even if I did. Anyway... It's all okay. What is, is.” Trevor whispered to him. He kept hold of the Dhampyre but moved back his head enough so that they could look each other in the eye. “I should have known you'd get so trapped inside here.” A soft tap to Alucard's head emphasized. “I wish I had just gone out into that forest and found you. I was never a waiting kind of man anyway. So... It's okay. We are both idiots. I forgive you completely.”
“Just like that.” Alucard said incredulously.
“Not at all just like that.” The Hunter sighed. “It's hard to admit when you are wrong. It was just easier to blame you because you never showed up. But I am the master of my own life. I should have gone out and dragged you back so you could keep the promise I wanted you to most of all. So let's put that to bed for good, okay?”
“I...” Alucard hedged. “I still love you, if we are being open and honest. I love you more than anything. I just... Well, just so you know. I missed my chance, I am aware. I respect your choices, too.”
Those unique grey- blue eyes softened impossibly, the sadness within them all consuming. “Nothing has changed about how I feel for you, Adrian. Except that I regret not making more active choices. I don't want to be this angry any more... and I am not. When I look at you right now... I am just happy to see you again. That's how I want it to stay.”
For lack of words to express how grateful he felt for this sudden turn of events, the Dhampyre pulled the young Hunter back into the warm embrace again, feeling the tension he hadn't been aware of harbouring now melting away. Complete relief washed over, thrilled as he was to have the Hunter's trust and friendship mended right before his eyes. It would make the hardships ahead so much easier, now that he felt permitted to comfort the boy when the terrible truths would have to be revealed.
Not tonight, however. Tonight was just two friends eating good food and getting drunk on fine wine. Unwilling to let the Hunter go, he stood but kept hold of his hand, leading him out towards the kitchen, with promises of fine French cuisine in the waiting.
Tragedy was on the horizon.
Notes:
Covid has been weird, guys. I am not dead, but thank you for the concerns in the comments. They motivated me to post.
Chapter 23: Strained Associations
Chapter Text
July 2037 ~ Suginami ward, Tokyo – Evening
Darkness... Softness... There was nothing at first but the plush feel of his casket and it's warmth surrounding him. No memories or urgency of things he ought to be doing or pursuing. The slumber of one so ancient and eternal was never to be rushed. For what point was rushing when one was a creature possessing the most valued of gifts in endless supply? Time was the only thing a Moroi could count on. No matter what happened or how long it dragged, creatures like he would still be standing when it was all over and done with. No stress. No panic. Just darkness, softness... and music? Orchestral? No... Too noisy and fierce. Death metal? No... not enough growling vocals. It was too harmonious, too... Symphonic? But also slightly haunting? Oh wait, there was the gravelly vocals now.
Utterly perplexed, the mechanisms in his casket sensed his rousing, the lid working to free him from it's confines. Dhampyre sat up in the dimming light of his study, ears tuned to the muted racket beyond his sealed door, just as the aromas of seared meat and buttered vegetables reached his nose. Intermixed with the savoury herb aromas was the familiar citric scents of Yoko Belnades and one Julius Belmont. The racket of noise just beyond his sanctuary no doubt also in part the fault of his two stalwart companions. How he had managed to sleep through their arrival and entering of his dwelling was a little alarming, until he remembered next that he was no longer in the home alone, and his housemate's presence did put him in a dangerously relaxed state.
Life had certainly become more interesting in the following days after bringing Trevor Belmont home. At first an arduous chore to keep the young Belmont satisfied with being kept inside the confines of his garden home. Trading the hospital room prison for merely a slightly larger floor space and a free shower was not exactly what Trevor had in mind when he finally escaped into this new land. Alucard had managed to placate the Hunter with teaching him all about the creature comforts of the modern age. Streaming radio, digital books, digital card games and chess, dumb phone games, a kettle that boiled in under a minute and tea in bags so he could drink it whenever the whim struck him. When those novelties wore off, he begrudgingly allowed them to leave for walks around the neighbourhood, just small ones mind, in order to build up the Hunter's strength and stamina. He taught him about the plants they saw and the different species of birds and insects. At night they drank and reminisced about their journey, Alucard playing the piano at Trevor's behest. He shared drawings with the young Belmont, telling him about the places he had travelled around Japan. Occasionally the Hunter would probe him with a question about the witch, more to cement details then gain any new insight. Often when he thought Alucard distracted the boy would run his hands over the scars, brow knitted in frustration. When Alucard thought Trevor sufficiently distracted he would get to work on his most unpleasant side project. Preparing the evidence to convince Trevor of the terribly cruel truth.
In this time the Dhampyre kept close contact with Yoko and Julius through text, updating on his friend's physical and emotional state, as well as sharing the information Trevor could cobble together. His requests for research papers and a few too many favours called in with Interpol had been set in motion. The echo mirror in his pocket served to pass his current progress to Joachim, and through him onto the Lost Commune's matriarchal crones. All he had to keep him busy at current was to babysit Trevor Belmont, for lack of a better description. It kept him busy enough, certainly, so perhaps this unexpected visit by his fellow hunters would be a welcome break from filling Trevor's days to stave off boredom. The pieces weren't in place yet for the Hunter to learn anything more about the brand new world.
Welcome break was quite welcome indeed, but did his coworkers have to bring with them such a terrible noise? Alucard hopped out of his resting place with a sigh, straightening out his simple long sleeved shirt and track pants to the most presentable state garments he had slept in could be. While he did not immediately greet the humans outside his door, he kept his ears tuned to their muffled laughter, gauging the tones of their voices to ensure another fight was not about to break out. What could he say, he was a little paranoid when it came to Trevor. Instead, he sat at his desk and opened the locked drawer, retrieving the drawings he gathered all together from numerous separate albums of his adventures with Trevor, Sypha and Grant. Three humans buzzing with energy just beyond his reach... it must have made him sentimental.
He flipped through the pages slowly, moving on to the ones he'd done from memory of Sonia Belmont, and of Trevor and his children. Of the village of Wallachia. Of Trevor's home. Of the passing neighbours near Trevor's property. The little girl who played in front of the house just across from his. Of Sypha, now older and more comfortable in her femininity. The need to hide what she was no longer a factor in her every day struggle to survive. Of her twin little girls, a pair of strawberry blondes with Trevor's eyes. Identical unlike the man's sons. Drawings of Grant in finer times, a made man after leading the repairs of the blasted lands in Dracula's wake. Of Grant's fantastically wild daughter, basically a pirate queen in her own right. Of Trevor's boys, older now. One sporting a shock of red hair the same as the former Mrs. Belmont, the other, the softer more delicate one, the spitting image of his father. The redhead, Christopher, with his father's whip. Christopher with his son, and so on and so forth down the long twisted line of Belmont clansmen. The entire lineage of Belmonts that Alucard had come to know in his long life. Each of them a whirlwind of energy and with strengths and faults uniquely of their own, but all of them impossibly familiar in their tenacity. When every one of them told Alucard what they had their mind set to do, he believed them, without question. The whip was not their true birthright, that dogged determination was.
Alucard closed the collection and secreted it back away under lock and key. The trip down memory lane gave him pause for thought. Perhaps Trevor's unique Belmont grit would keep him together when what needed to be said had to be said. The boy was no stranger to tragedy... And it was not as if his loved ones had been cut down like Alucard's or poisoned like the little French flower he'd first married. Sypha and his children had lived long full lives. They had had children of their own and their own tales to tell. Tales most of which Alucard could recite from memory. The only thing tragic was that Trevor had missed experiencing it alongside them. There must surely be some solace the boy could find in knowing they didn't die the too soon deaths of hunters, as he had so deeply feared.
Still reluctant to step out into the - at least - more symphonic metal now and subjugate his eardrums so early in the evening to wailing electric violins, Alucard shoved away from the desk in lieu of standing over the cloth covered cold storage. The satin tablecloth slipped silently away as he tapped in the key combo to unlock the vault within. Impossibly old relics greeted him as the seal released with the telltale sign of pressure locks. Alucard did not remove the magickal stasis field yet, as there was no need. He simply wanted to stare at the contents, mind racing with how exactly the revelation would play out. He longed to touch them, run his hands along all the textures and smell the reminiscent scents of long ago. But he had fallen victim to this lonely whim one too many times, and the goods therein could scarcely stand to be wept into one more time... Perhaps they only had one more role to play. One more purpose to fulfill before they could finally crumbled to dust.
Yellow eyes shut with some struggle, memory alone guiding him to reseal the storage and cover it back up with red satin. He was hiding, he admitted to himself. He was hiding because every second with Trevor brought them closer to the event horizon. The Dhampyre just wasn't ready. Not emotionally in any sense. And the young Hunter was smart. Too smart. He already questioned things a little too pensively, his eyes sharp and missing very little detail of what was around him. How could things be this radically different? Grant has shared stories of his time in the Orient, nothing of which spoke of anything Trevor was witnessing here in 2037. The hunter had to suspect something wasn't adding up. But he seemed to show no sign of suspicion. Just endless curiosity. Alucard sighed heavily and paced, unconsciously combing his hair before ending up in front of the nude headless statue, giving in to the urge of throwing his arms around it. “It was easier when I just had you to worry about.” He confessed to the cool marble form. “And I believe I am losing it again. Every two hundred years like clockwork I seem to lose all my own marbles.”
Seriously, it was time to face the music.
He threw open the study door to reveal the three hunters gathered around his chabudai, sharing tea from the ornate set always on display. It... was probably the first time the thing had ever been used. Yoko being Yoko and nosy tried to peek behind him into the forbidden study but the Dhampyre let the door click shut with finality, wagging a single finger at her with a tsk. Julius who looked to be dividing his attention between working and observing the younger Belmont, spared him a warm genuine smile and nod of the head before his bloodshot eyes fell back on Trevor. The boy in question half leaned over the table, propped up by hands on either side of Yoko's phone, staring wide eyed at a music video starring some goth-looking band with too many belts and spiked studs. Which explained the horrible noise. Well, the earlier horrible noise. This particular song had a vague medieval flair to it that made the Dhampyre a little nostalgic for when he could travel the countryside pretending to be a bard with a certain oft insane Vampyre. Trevor's rapt attention to it drew him closer, curious to watch the young Hunter's expression change subtly as his head bobbed slightly side to side in tune with the main beat. It seemed he truly enjoyed the musical blend of old and new... Alucard supposed he could get used to it. The symphonic metal, not the gravelly croaking one. For Trevor.
At last getting a sense he was being watched, Trevor tore his eyes away from the now desperate growing melody and gifted the Dhampyre with the brightest, most delighted expression another living being had ever spared him. “I'm glad you are awake.” The Hunter grinned earnestly, leaving Alucard a little weak in the knees with delirious delight so he took a place smoothly by Trevor's side to hide the giddiness. The Hunter poured him tea and handed it over, using his free hands once the Dhampyre accepted to gesture towards the video still playing on the phone. “Did you know there is music like that?” The Hunter rushed on before Alucard could think of a reply. “I have never heard anything that even sounds close to what I feel inside here.” He exclaimed, a hand touching his chest. “Not until now.”
“So that is the sound of your soul, hmm?” Alucard mused. Maybe it really was. It had hints of mourning, hints of passion, hints of anger and hints of desperation. Overall a moody thoughtful genre of music. “I think I can see that.” The Dhampyre found himself agreeing. “Does it need to be so loud first thing in the evening?” Watching with a playful quirk of his own lips, Alucard enjoyed the flush of colour that touched the brunette before he demonstrated just how quickly he was learning by reaching out to tap the touchscreen to bring up the controls and tap the pause button. “I didn't say you had to turn it off.”
“It's okay.” Trevor replied softly. “It is hard to talk over it. Thank you for showing me this, Yoko. I really liked it.”
The lithe sorceress pocketed her phone with a pleased sound. “You are most welcome, family member of undetermined relation. I had a feeling you'd be a metalhead. You got the hair for it. Very Norwegian looking.” Completely ignoring Alucard's raised warning eyebrow the sorceress carried on in a bluster, dragging her grimoire back to the middle of the table and flipping it open to a dog-eared page of Glyphs. “Where were we? The magick of making tangible things for only a moment in time?” Trevor enthused so Yoko continued. “I personally have no mastery over this type of magick. It is more an alchemical art which requires one have a base glyph carved into your flesh. From ingredients found within or without the body one can conjure the glyph into reality. It used to be an assassin's best friend. Weapons forbidden in an area? No problem right? You slip inside peacefully and when your mark is alone and away from prying eyes - WHABAM! Copper and iron in your blood gets you a magick dagger to murder, and the telling weapon vanishes just after it does the deed. No blood on you, nobody to point the finger at you for the crime.”
“How is it discreet if you are screaming wha...bam, was it? I'd point my finger at the guy yelling nonsense, not because I thought he was a murderer, but because that's just weird.”
Yoko sighed and rolled her eyes. “I scream WHABAM. A cut-throat would not. That's why I am not a cut-throat, Trevor. I like to loudly announce when I blow things up that I am in the middle of blowing them up. It's my thing. Julius likes to bowl over everything in his way. That's his thing. Alucard never stops lecturing, that's his thing. Everybody has a thing, miscellaneous family member.”
“Ahh.” Trevor shrugged. “I guess I do really enjoy punching things in the face. That must be my thing.”
“That's not a bad thing.” Yoko agreed. “These Glyphs are certainly not my thing though. There is a very dangerous Dominus Glyph that can absorb others into it to use, but the method of producing that Glyph is as likely to kill the recipient as drive them mad. So most people have to carve every single Glyph they master into their flesh, a limiting power as there is only so much flesh on the body.”
“What if you are very fat?” Trevor wondered out loud innocently, causing both Alucard and Julius to spit-take their tea with laughter. “You'd have a wider canvas, right?”
Yoko giggled, no doubt imagining a rubenesque Glyph user carved up like a Halloween pumpkin. “Well, you are not wrong! I think it might work. Let's round up some Sumo wrestlers and have them try.”
“That's those guys in the circle who shove each other around, right? Sumo? They look very strong. I don't think they need Glyphs to put up a decent fight. It seems like they are just well padded... But I am willing to bet it's probably all muscle under there.” Trevor knit his brow and continued to wonder out loud to himself. “I wonder what it would be like to punch one? Most probably like trying to put your fist through a doughy wall.”
“That's against the rules.” Alucard contributed. Lecturing, as was his thing. “You could slap or trip one though. That's allowed.”
“I am not tripping one of those guys. What if he falls on me?” Sputtered Trevor, an outburst which had Julius roaring with laughter.
“All right, no Sumo.” Yoko surrendered. “You'll just have to settle for the amount of skin you got on you.”
“That doesn't give me a lot of room.” Trevor admitted, pinching at his cinched waist. “There used to be more of me, I swear. Every year I feel I whittle down in size like I've some wasting disease. Look at this!” He emphasized by rotating his wrist, the knobby bone straining under his tight skin. “This did not look like that the last time I checked.”
“Huh.” Alucard pursed his lips and reached out to encircle the wrist within his fingers. “Yes, you are right. You are a lot smaller then you used to be, and you were half starved the first time we met.” Pallid fingers released the Hunter's equally pale flesh the moment the boy pulled against him. “Are you intending to become a magician by carving Glyphs into your hide, or something? What is all this talk about?”
Trevor made a dismissive noise before answering. “Yoko said she was going to try and see if she could teach me a magick trick that did not require any actual magickal affinity to use.”
“You need some affinity and knowledge of the arcane for Glyphs. They don't just work because a symbol or two are cut into your ass cheeks. You need to know how to draw the materials into it.”
“I don't want to learn ass magick!” The young Hunter's exclamation again reducing the the present company into rolling fits of laughter. “You know what I meant.” He grit out a moment later, face beet red. It really did nothing to tame the mirth in the room. “Oh fuck, I forgot dinner.” The Hunter suddenly pivoted, embarrassment forgotten and bounced up to his feet to run to the kitchen.
Alucard could hardly catch his breath, honestly considering researching if such a thing as ass magick existed. It would really make his century of it did. “Good morning to me.” He managed to sigh after a long struggle to contain himself. “Magickal asses aside, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Welfare check, I guess.” Julius shrugged, switching to English. “I kind of maybe missed your face too. I'm an old school kind of guy. I like to talk to people right in front of my face, not through a screen.” So the elder Belmont claimed, but Alucard had seen him out the corner of his eye texting back and forth repeatedly with... Eliza? If his overstretching neck and eyes had read the contact name correctly.
“What's the top brass want?” Alucard raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “She is texting you a novel. Is your boss babysitting you again, Julius?”
This of course got Yoko's immediate attention, the girl sitting straight up. “Why is the Iron Maiden Liza texting you after hours? Or from wherever she is? This was an in-house close knit job, Jules. The top brass ain't need to be knowing we, the trio responsible for getting the Castle out of Japan, are also responsible for a witch coven nearly snatching it back.”
“She's actually here.” Julius admitted after a thoughtful pause, sending Yoko into a mini freak out.
“Why is the Iron Maiden in Tokyo!?”
“She is not that bad, Yoko, settle down. She's not here for work, either.”
Yoko raised a suspicious eyebrow of her own.
“She is... on vacation.” Julius offered, after another slight pause.
“Of all the places to vacation, huh?” Alucard mused out loud. “All the money and private jets to take her anywhere on the entire globe and she comes to Japan during the sweatiest, muggiest season. Coincidentally while you are here for work?”
“Jules.” Yoko leaned in and glared. “Jules, baby. I love you. I love you a lot.”
“That's a loaded statement if I ever heard one.” Julius chuckled to himself.
“Jules. Tell it to me straight, as your friend and your protege.” The sorceress hissed in deadly seriousness, leaning in. “Did you climb inside the Iron Maiden?”
The old Belmont regarded his young student expressionlessly before a sinister smirk sliced his visage. Julius too leaned in, eye to eye with Yoko so that when he hissed back, she had no choice but to admit defeat and retreat, or suffer the attack full on. “I live in the Iron Maiden, Yoko.”
The sorceress held Julius gaze valiantly for a hot minute before she threw up her hands in defeat and backed away. “Grosssss. How did you even pull that off? She's a frigid... Iron Maiden!”
“With my ass magick, obviously!”
Alucard lost it for the second time that evening. There was no force on Earth that could help him, sides aching and eyes teared up. It was so immature, it really shouldn't have been so funny. Only a pair of words, mildly amusing when placed next to each other. It had to be the stress getting to him, and not that he was also so immature. Completely out of the question, that. The Dhampyre had hardly just pulled himself together when he leaned back to give himself some metaphorical space from the words 'Ass' and 'Magick' when he noticed Trevor hovering just by the kitchen entrance.
The perfect image of a butler, serving towel draped over an arm to shield it from the heat of the three plates he balanced. In the other hand he managed four goblets and a bottle of rosé. He was studying them with a small smile, waiting for their games to end before he interrupted them with the dinner he'd prepared. Rather politely for Trevor Belmont, if Alucard was being honest. When he noticed Alucard returning his smile, the boy padded silently in, placing glasses and handing out dishes of grilled fish and buttered vegetables, plated aesthetically pleasing to one's eye. Only three plates, one for each human, Alucard noted. Trevor disappeared back into the kitchen briefly only to return with a small donburi, once again holding the warm dish and enclosed lid with the serving towel so as not to burn himself. This final preparation he slid in front of Alucard before taking his seat and passing out utensils.
“That looks delicious, kid.” Julius hummed satisfactorily. “I can't wait to dig in.”
Yoko suspiciously poked at her vegetables with a fork, but politely thanked the younger Belmont for his hospitality – without even pulling a face at green stuff on her plate, no less. It was just too bad for the young sorceress the younger hunter didn't miss much, giving the girl a sly smile and telling her to eat her greens. She wanted to be a strong healthy hunter, didn't she?
On Alucard's part, he stared curiously at the small dish designed to keep small bowls of rice or soup warm. What special treat had he warranted from Trevor Belmont, he had to wonder... Just a peek, not even a peek but the simple cracking open of the steam sealed lid sent the Dhampyre's senses in a tailspin. His Moroi hunger surging to life, all consuming, all encompassing. He could barely get the lid closed properly before he went mad. Too long, had it been. Centuries. Centuries to taste the unique flavour of honeyed copper once again. A taste he'd long thought lost to him, and with good reason. The source of it should have been six hundred years dead and in the ground. He managed a glance at Trevor who traded a look of apprehension for his bewildered one. Yellow eyes trailed down the Hunter's body to his wrist... freshly bandaged.
“...It didn't seem fair for us to all have a meal and you sit hungry.” Trevor explained in barely more than a whisper.
Alucard stared stupidly, in awe. The dish had been warmed in hot water first. So the contents would still be warm for him when he took his first drink. The Belmont boy had prepared him a blood meal in a fancy dinner setting and just... Just gave it to him at the table with the rest of everyone's meals. With no outward discomfort of what meal the Dhampyre in their midst would be partaking. His beautiful, wondrous, welcoming, forgiving, and forever thoughtful Belmont. The tension and unease coming off Yoko and Julius could do nothing to dampen his swelling heart. He knew his eyes were crimson with hunger and desire. He knew they had justifiable cause to be wary of him in this state. It was nature. He was a natural predator of their kind and in their midst... Hungry. Not in any of the decades had he known Julius or the years Yoko had he ever fed before them. It was just something humans did not need to see, and the knowledge he did still do so easier for his comrades to ignore if never witnessed. And here was Trevor fucking Belmont setting him a place at the table to eat with friends. Crimson eyes searched out the pale blues next to him, and he let out a small delighted noise. Not quite a laugh, not quite surprise, but something of both.
“My favourite. This looks delicious, Trevor.” Alucard purred. Without any shame, without any hesitation, he lifted Trevor Belmont's gift to his lips and drank deeply.
Nothing existed beyond that honey once the flavour notes touched his tongue. Not Yoko nor Julius. Not even the source of the honey that had been at his side only a moment ago. The taste brought him back hundreds of years ago to an abandoned hovel of a room in Yomi, where he pressed his body up tightly against the creature completely surrendered into his care. To stolen moments in the trees beyond the borders of camp where the only heat for miles was the fire between a pliant willing human and a Dhampyre. To Lupu where his body was forever changed and his mind forever anchored to the idea of Trevor Belmont. His pretty little porcelain doll. Lovely in lace and silk petticoats. Even lovelier dishevelled and half divested of the finery. A creature between light and shadow. So beautiful one moment, so handsome a second later. It really depended how one looked at him and in the state he was in when you did. Alucard had always been looking at him, however. He saw each fluid change and everything in between. That the Dhampyre had been the catalyst for many of these changes was a bone quivering source of absolute pleasure... And then he was back in his rented living room at a chabudai with momentarily forgotten friends. The donburi was empty.
You've never done that in front of them. His quick to punish mind reminded him almost immediately. You just drank blood in front of human hunters. Human blood. Alucard was almost afraid to look around, so instead he kept his eyes down, covering the donburi with it's lid so that the trickles of blood splatter would not offend any who peered in. He toyed with his wine glass listening but not understanding the small talk around him, but never took a sip. To take a sip would be to wash away the taste of Trevor Belmont. A six hundred year craving in the making finally sated... and who could say when or even if Trevor would share his gifts with Alucard again. So he sat where he was, aroused, sated, but always open to the possibility of seconds or thirds. The blood meal hummed through his own veins, electricity seeming to buzz right into the tips of his fingers and toes. The blood of one loved more intoxicating then an entire vineyards worth of wine. No, better to sit still. To stay quiet. If he moved his body would find it's way to Trevor's. When it did, he would take him. Company be damned, he would peel that porcelain doll's clothes right off, turn him over by the hips he would seize and lift, and thrust six hundred years of longing into that deliciously sculpted--
“Are you done, Alucard?” Yoko's voice shocked him into the present. The more normal present, that was. He smelled her wariness, diminished but still hiding around the corners of her mind. She was collecting plates... dishes. She wanted his donburi to take back to the kitchen. The donburi that had Trevor in it. The donburi Trevor gave him. It was his. Why did she want it so badly, didn't she have enough dishes in her hands to satisfy her? “You okay there?”
Stop it, you idiot. He scolded inwards. Of course she wanted his dish. She was clearing the table. It was empty. “Thank you.” He managed to get out and handed her the donburi, if a touch reluctant. Yoko hesitated, her lips parted as if to ask another question. Was he all right, no doubt. “I am fine.” He told her simply and levelly. “I'm no different then most humans, you know. After a good meal I just want to take a nap.” An admission to add some levity, but also the plain truth. Perhaps not as surprisingly as he'd first thought, she accepted that answer, calling it fair. Not daring to look at Trevor still, he turned to Julius, intent on asking if they were want to get to more serious business now that they were all fed. But Julius looked like an older Trevor. One grizzled and grumpy with perpetually bloodshot eyes. But they were the same eyes. And he was leggy and brunette... and he did indeed have some ass magick at play. Goddamned classic blue denim clad ass magick. Only because Yoko was out of the room did he slide into Enochian, a language of which no one currently at the table would understand and fixed Julius in his still crimson sights. “I would bend you over this table right now too given the chance, old man.” He confessed in what might as well have been gibberish to Julius, just to get it out of him. To get some relief. To howl at the goddamn moon.
“What are you mumbling about over there?” Julius asked in English with a skeptical look.
“Oh... Just that maybe we should get down to business. We are all here, after all.” Shifting back to Romanian, he at last managed to turn towards Trevor without embarrassing them both, and shamefully sexually assaulting the other man. “We are going to work on our case now, since we are all here. Yoko and Julius are most comfortable in English, so that is the language we work in. Is that all right?”
Trevor nodded, wordlessly rising to his feet and stepping away. There was no bitterness in the action. He simply left them to their witch hunt, unplugging Alucard's cellular to lay on a pillow in the corner playing dumb phone games. Like any other bored twenty-three year old.
He.... might actually be all right. Alucard decided, before turning back to the documents Julius was spreading out.
*****
July 2037 ~ Suginami ward, Tokyo – Midnight
“My brain hurts and I think I drank too much pink wine.” Yoko whined, entirely cognizant that the Terror of Tokyo had been watching them all night from his pillow perch, and she was starting to suspect there was some fishy business going on with that one.
Her symbol filing was slow work as ever and utterly mind numbing. There was no pattern or known methodology. Blood rites and incantations all cobbled together in a highly inspired patchwork not seen in any school of magick Yoko had studied, not even one in passing. Their High Priestess was looking more and more to not only be dangerously crafty, but a self taught witch at that. Always more challenging to track were those ones who had to survive on the fringes picking up talents piecemeal, and forging unheard of marriages between them. Yoko would much have preferred Julius' job of tracking down leads on the inky black night flyer. He had all kinds of guesses about it now with the Cave Boy's extra credit. The kid had done half the work already. It was most likely a type of Lilin, an even older ancestor of succubi and incubi. You didn't really see them anymore barring story books and religious texts. Some choice smut as well. Maybe this mysterious and enigmatic witch had captured and enslaved the last Lilin on Earth? It seemed like something she would do even with how little they did know about her. A super succubus or incubus or whatever would certainly explain why three dozen women had been prepared to fight to the death on their High Priestess's account. A good two dozen and some change of the poor coven had.
So many questions to be answered and here they were the three of them getting drunk on pink wine. Spinning their gears in place, they needed some kind of break, but it was too guilty a feeling to sit idly by and wait for one. What she wouldn't give to be the lazy teenager in the corner of the room dicking around on his borrowed phone... If that was indeed what he was doing. He was far too serious looking for a kid playing a mobile game. Trevor Belmont was starting to give her the creeps, Yoko realized with an unsettled pit in her stomach. How she came to this conclusion, she couldn't say exactly. Tiny Terror had been downright welcoming and pleasant when they'd arrived, inviting them in as if he owned the house, catering to them like a proper host and even prepared them dinner. Of course he'd been exactly zero degrees of forthcoming, still asking a question of his own or spinning yours when you posed one towards him. Net positive for there being no detectable menace or veiled temper, she guessed. It was probably the intensity of his eyes when he observed them that gave her the willies, and she could no longer just write off his serious unblinking stare as they conversed in a language the boy did not understand as only curiosity. Julius' warning words about Alucard and to always remember what he truly was, friend or not, echoed strong for this tiny Belmont as well. If he was who he said he was, he was a formidable hunter who'd faced Dracula and lived. He probably didn't need to know their English words to parse many of the meanings and ideas being exchanged when their body language was saying just as much.
Yoko realized she was meeting his gaze after a while. They had been eyes locked for Triple Goddess knows how long, and she hadn't even registered it until now. However, before she could figure out a way to disengage, the younger Hunter made a thoughtful hushed noise, as if meant for no one but himself, stood discarding the phone, and walked off into the bedroom. She heard him shuffle around in there for a bit, drawers opening and such before he disappeared into the bathroom. Minutes later the sound of beating spray filled the silence between the remaining trio. Did I just beat the Terror of Tokyo in a staring contest? Alucard too it seemed had been staring at Trevor, and still did keep his eyes on the bathroom door, barely open a crack. Those elf ears twitched, turning to listen closely to whatever noise was beyond Yoko's human capabilities to hear under the the roar of water. Must be some Dhampyre kink, she figured.
It was Julius who next broke the silence not long after the sorceress attempted to return to her work. He stretched, joints popping and leather belt creaking and sighed loudly. “I think I am going to have to go back to those woods and sleep there. See what goes bump in the night when no ones making a sound.”
Yoko groaned just as loud. “But it's so sweaty, Julius. It's humid as hell every night now. Don't make me sleep in the muggy woods without air conditioning.”
“I didn't say you had to. I'll ask Hammer to watch my back. He likes these impromptu bro-camping trips. We're going to play Smash Marry or Dash with or without you, if you can live with that.”
“You would do that to me? On top of it, with Hammer?” She gasped, betrayed.
Lost still within a reverie Alucard tilted his head, thinking a moment before he made his decision, detached. “Marry.”
“Oh, I am not letting this opportunity slip.” Yoko pounced. “Missy the receptionist at HQ?”
“Smash.”
With a squeal, the sorceress got creative with history. “Jonathan Morris?”
“Smash.”
“My great Aunt, Charlotte Aulin?”
“Marry.”
“John Morris?”
“Dash.”
“Eric Lecarde?”
“Marry.”
“Richter Belmont?”
Here Alucard gave her a wolfish grin and purred, no longer detached and fully engaged with her game. “Smashed.”
“Hey, his hubris ruined our family's entire legacy for a hundred years.” Julius burst out, clearly scandalized.
The Dhampyre next turned to him, wolfish grin spreading. “It's true, he did. Fear not, Julius, for I spent a great deal of time ruining him in return. He was quite contrite.”
“Is there anything you won't stick your dick in?” The elder Belmont laughed, waving off the image of the Dhampyre on top of his much maligned ancestor. “Anything at all on this blasted patch of dirt?”
“Well, Strigoi, I suppose. Not a fan of the dusty smell... And the Iron Maiden Eliza Levin, you psychopath. That's a Dash if there ever was one.”
“She's not that bad.” Julius reiterated. “Your problem is that she doesn't like either of you because this is exactly how you act all the time.”
Now Yoko was waving hands furiously before her face, trying to get the image of Julius Belmont on top of Iron Liza as far away from her mind as she could. Oh who was she kidding, the Iron Maiden was a power top. And now she really super duper needed that image to leave like yesterday. “Oh Jules, I still can't believe you'd betray us like that by sleeping with our boss. After everything we've been through. She didn't even give you a raise.”
“Well, not a pay raise.” He replied.
“Grosssssssssssss. Nope. No. Only something infinitely more disgusting could ever make me forget about this.” Yoko whined, turning back towards the equally off-put Dhampyre and asked him once more in the vein of the game. “Smash, Marry or Dash. Señor Creepy?”
“ Señor... Creepy?” Alucard tilted his head the other way, eyes narrowing until he puzzled out who she was asking about. Yet aggravatingly he didn't answer, instead pulling a page out of Trevor Belmont's playbook, asking instead. “Do you think anybody has any say over what they would do to Joachim? Or that anyone with any sense would even try?”
“You're breaking the rules, Al.” Yoko intoned sternly. “It's a sacred game passed down by bored colleagues since time immemorial. You have to answer. Joachim Armster. Smash, Marry or Dash?”
There was no need for a thermometer to measure the chill that blasted through the previously cozy dwelling, nor for Yoko to know when to shiver. In an instance the atmosphere was changed, playful camaraderie and teasing cast aside in lieu of a tight-knit united front against the unfettered madness that had come to Genya Arikado's home this eve. Her fellow hunter's rose same as she did the moment that unhinged laughter cut through the room, it's echo swallowing up the now dead mirth and mutating it into something sinister. There was not going to be a repeat of last time, she promised herself, teeth grit and arcane energy boiling inside. One wrong move was all it was going to take on Joachim's part for her to feed him all the witchfire her body could muster. And from experience, that was a fuckton of witchfire she'd gladly force-feed the creep who put his hands on her. The loony Vampyre made no moves whatsoever, much to her chagrin. He simply leaned in the open door of the garden entrance one forearm propping him up and grinned mischievously at them... or maniacally. Who the hell could really say.
“My ears were burning.” The Vampyre's grey eyes twinkled with madness. “The answer you are searching for, pretty little human girl, is marry.”
Alucard cleared his throat noisily, drawing all the attention in the room. His eyes remained golden, which Yoko took as a comforting sign as they were all far too drunk to have it out with an ancient Vampyre tonight. “That was a sham wedding in a cult to blend in so I could remove their dear leader. It does not and never will count.” The Dhampyre spoke in a rather nonplussed tone, even sparing the grinning lunatic a small polite smile. “Joachim, you have surprised me. I am not ready yet to receive you as you've grown accustomed unless you are kind enough to let me know when you are stopping by.”
“Now Kitten, you did request my company. I don't need much of a production.” The Vampyre's grey eyes were now smouldering, but not crimson. Not yet, at least, as he basically doted on Alucard, using one of his more favourite pet names. When Joachim was happy, as Yoko had come to learn with a cold sweat, Alucard was his 'Kitten'. “I was... around. Is it so terrible to stop in on a dear friend preemptively from our arranged time? One who has been so dreadfully consumed by his silly human work, he hasn't even come out to play in ages?”
Alucard straightened, squaring his shoulders as if preparing for an argument, or a fistfight. His deep timber of voice was still smooth and calm when he gestured towards the closed study. “Would you care to tell me what's on your mind in a more comfortable fashion? It seems rude to have you stand on my threshold and do it.”
“Invite me in, Kitten. I will feel more welcome if you welcome me. Funny how that works.”
Only her proximity to Alucard clued her in that he had swallowed hard before acquiescing to the whims of a pure blooded Moroi. “Please, Joachim. Come in out of the cold and into my home.” The Dhampyre even went so far as to hold out a hand in welcome, a hand the Vampyre's rusting boots clinked his lithe body across the wooden floor to clasp in both his own. Alucard let him hold it, looking down at the comparatively smaller Moroi without any sense of superiority. Even if he'd desire to try, the aura of this full blooded ancient monster filled all the available space around the three hunters, the room, the garden and beyond. The superior one was clear. But Alucard stayed calm and even cordial. “I am sorry. I have been quite preoccupied.”
“Yes you have... I seem to recall you telling me this would be the last of your little hero hunts in these lands and yet here you still are months later. Perhaps my Kitten needs a break to improve his output of work? How hard could it be to rustle up a trickster or three hundred that my little Princeling and his human pets cannot get the task complete? How dreadful... You must need a helping hand.” Joachim slid one of his taloned hands up Alucard's forearm as his bewitching Force of Will permeated the room. Pointed cones teased the fabric near the Dhampyre's elbow, the flimsy cotton the only barrier between vein and bloodsucker.
“I am quite occupied, Joachim.” Alucard hedged levelly. “This is my last hunt in Japan, that has not changed. The sooner I can get back to work solving this problem, the sooner I will return to Wallachia. You know this to be the truth.”
“Not Wallachia, Kitten.” Joachim's grip tightened momentarily. “Home. You said you would come home when this nonsense was done with. You said that back during the Demon Wars of 99, and again in 2035, and again this year in 2037. The year is half gone and you are not home.”
“Joachim,” Alucard tried again, using the hand and forearm the Vampyre gripped in an attempt to pull him towards the study door. “If you want to talk this over again that can be arranged. I am happy to share with you where I am and my progress here as well as my expectations of when this will be complete. Please, follow me.”
The Vampyre's grip was steel though he looked not to be putting much, if any, effort into it. Alucard was trapped where he was. “I care not for your dogs, Kitten. Why you mind them is beyond me. Speak your piece here if you actually have a valid argument to make for this waste of our time.” When Alucard opened his mouth but hesitated, casting a quick apprehensive look over towards Julius, Joachim's temper started to get the better of him. “Sweet Princeling, why ever are you looking over at the old man for? Are you asking his permission? Or..? Ahh... Yes, I see, now. You do not share with animals your secrets. You reek of conflicting emotions, my ivory angel.”
“They are not my secrets alone to tell.” Alucard replied, his voice a hushed warning tone. “Nor are they yours, Joachim.”
“To be perfectly honest, Halfbreed, I don't much care for the protections and secrets of anyone or thing there aside from you and my darling Lei-”
Alucard's fierce tug of his arm cut the Vampyre short. Now pulled closer, the Dhampyre raised his free hand to place it on the side of the smaller Vampyre's face, an intimate touch perhaps to distract the mad creature from the violent act of resistance the younger Moroi had just demonstrated. “I do care, Joachim. I care very much and I want to be there. But I can't yet. You've been so patient with me so far, is it so much to ask for a little more of your consideration?”
“These are all things you have said for decades here and there, Halfbreed. Always the same excuses, and you always expect me to just follow your whims and keep your supposed paradise safe in your stead so that you can instead be out here with the disgusting stinking livestock. I care for all your affairs while you gallivant! I tolerate old crones and smelly beastmen tribe alphas and their endless community meetings in your place!”
“They prefer Man Beast. And for the last time, they do not stink like your average werebeast. It's just the scent of fur. That you do not like dogs is not their fault.” Alucard grit out, clearly uncomfortable and attempting to shut the conversation down as quickly as possible. Yoko could pick up on the growing desperation in Alucard's voice, and by the intrigued look on Julius face, so did he.
“You let stray mongrels move in next door. Next door! And I haven't killed them or you yet. You are asking for more leniency? I have been quite patient enough with this whole situation, you would agree?” The Vampyre did not give the younger a word in edgewise as he continued down his tirade, blithely ignoring how much the Dhampyre clearly did not want to have this discussion on front of Julius Belmont most of all. “So I got your message and I did your bidding. As always like a dependable Moroi manslave. And then I got to wondering what exactly am I doing with my endless life, and what exactly am I getting out of this clearly one sided friendship? And I was at such a loss to find something positive I thought I would just fly on over here and you could tell me with your pretty little lips why I keep helping you? It's been six hundred years and I can't for the life of me think of why I keep helping you right now!”
“I don't suppose because it's the right thing to do would be a satisfying answer for you?” Alucard asked simply, perhaps resigned to the fact that too much was being said by the creep that their friend did not want Yoko or Julius to be privy to.
The Vampyre, surprisingly, laughed. His temper somewhat curtailed. “Things will always be happening, right or wrong. What you are doing is irrelevant, Kitten. We are eternal and how we fill our days will always be evolving, you sweet summer child. It should be who you are filling your days with that is what counts. And it seems that I do not count for much in your assessments. You never care to do anything with me any more that is not asking of me increasingly aggravating favours, or to do your busywork, or to care for and manage your affairs. These human pets of yours can fend for themselves you have kept claiming, so why are you still here when you do not need to be? Spare me a moment of your time to explain what is it this time that has you so attached to this sweltering country? It's not like the only real threat is still a threat, you idiot, your have in your possession the damned--”
“Joachim!” Alucard shouted, not with anger but palpable desperation. “Not here. I will have this conversation with you, I've promised, but not here. Please, where do you want to go to have this?”
Pure blooded Moroi madness stood still and eerily silent, iron grip still confining, but disturbingly calmed. Grey eyes searched out the yellow ones, truly disregarding the humans as if they did not exist. For Joachim there was only a Vampyre and a Dhampyre standing in the living room trying to have a one sided argument. His aura was thick and disarming with no visible effort on the Vampyre's part, powers of such ancientness grown to immeasurable heights. The humans were disregarded because the monster in their midst never considered them a threat. Yet, without taking his eyes off Alucard, one long finger pointed towards the living room entrance way in the direction of the bedroom, where Trevor Belmont now stood, wet but dressed. And ready. “What is that, Princeling?” Joachim inquired, chest visibly expanding to take the scent in before his eyes turned crimson. “You simple, stupid creature, I should have suspected this nonsense from the start. I smell that all over this place, and all over you. Let's have us a look at your newest toy then."
Alucard did not move when Joachim at last released him. His mouth parted to say something as he looked at Trevor, but no words came out, only watching as the Vampyre breeze by Yoko without a glance in her direction to confront their newest addition to the human party. Nobody moved as this happened, in fact. Yoko kept her power in a tight reign, ready to launch, but a quick look at Julius saw the man passively observing, no Vampyre Killer in sight... Well duh, she thought. Trevor Belmont. Seemed like if there was rescuing needing to be done, it was on Yoko. Julius wasn't going to pull out the whip in front of the previous owner.
Giving credit where credit was due, Trevor Belmont did not so much as bat an eye as a full blooded Vampyre overshadowed his smaller frame. That he was forced to crane his neck up to look Joachim in his ruby red eyes did nothing to diminish the boy's confidence nor the small curious smile the younger Belmont wore. Before the Vampyre could speak Trevor cut him off, looking over to Alucard to ask in his accented Romanian. “Do you have a little brother?”
Alucard stammered and Joachim's uproarious laugh seized the room. “Absolutely not. I am one of a kind.” The Vampyre now in perfect Romanian cooed, making no effort to disguise his lecherous examination of the form before him. It made Yoko's skin crawl as she had been on the receiving end of such an appraisal from the Vampyre once before.
Yoko barely kept a scream down when she saw the Terror of Tokyo return the appraising gaze, taking in the Vampyre hovering over him from head to toe and back. When he next spoke, she did indeed clamp her hands over her mouth to smother the strangled noise escaping. “Well that must be true. You are by far much better looking, so you can't be related by blood to Adrian.” This reply thrilled the Vampyre as he all but reached out to take this new human into his arms. He stopped short when Trevor gave no ground to his advance, a hunter testing his prey's nerves. Trevor's tone dropped an octave, a touch breathier, as his body sort of... If Yoko had to say... swayed slightly. He was always moving, just a touch, just enough to draw your eyes. Joachim was certainly transfixed by the subtle shifting. “Do you know what else you are, 'one of a kind'?” Trevor waited for Joachim to encourage before he stepped that smidgen closer, raising onto his tip toes to get into the most dangerous proximity one could be in when facing down a Vampyre, before whispering coyly in a pointed ear smaller than the Dhampyre's. “You are also in my way.” And then he turned his head.
Joachim's body tensed, predator seeing the neck presented to him and instinct driving the body to pounce, but logic stayed his attack. This prey was baiting him, testing his impulses and getting a feel for what boundaries existed. Yoko stared wide eyed, somewhere in the back of her mind understanding that she was about to see something she never thought would ever be possible. How a Belmont not named Julius handled themselves in the face of a true threat. And the boy was not even armed. “What kind of animal do we have here, I must wonder? Where did my Kitten discover you?”
Without missing a beat Trevor replied. “In a cave. I can't help but notice that you are still in my way.” Just as insane as the Vampyre, Trevor turned his head the other way, as if in disbelief that this murder machine had not politely stepped aside already. Joachim tensed all over again, but once more warily, excitedly, assessed his prey. The monster, having chosen to stay his hand as the wisest decision, grinned at the young man with a smile that was definitely a lot more than a show of teeth. He stepped back, arm extending to wave the boy through, though he was hot on the new creature's heels.
“Ah, you drink wine like the mongrels, do you?” Joachim delighted, watching Trevor grab the wine bottle out of the ice bucket to drink straight from. “Oh, I suppose I do too imbibe a touch too often when in Kitten's company. It's terrible to never excite your palate, you know. You should always be open to trying something new. I smell herbed fish and buttered carrots and broccoli on you, little one. A domesticated little creature, I see. How pleasurable to behold a mate who knows how to keep house and home warm for ones return."
Trevor turned back towards Joachim and sort of slowly walked around him, wine bottle in hand, keeping his - and now Yoko really had no other word for it but flirty – tone. “That's a good nose you have on you. I was a very hungry creature, and left to fend for myself. Perhaps I should have waited? Your experienced and exciting palate might have had a more creative and delicious idea in store. Whatever would you have fed me, I wonder, if I had only waited to ask?”
“My appetite tends to get the better of me, but for you, Little One, I would have made an exception.” Joachim watched the Hunter circle him, eyes crimson, constantly reassessing. “Do you know what I am? I have to assume you do, but I smell no fear on you. Nothing at all. Not even it's cousin apprehension. Or the bastard step child that is uncertainty.”
“You are not the first one of your kind I have been up close and intimate with. I do of course mean the full-blooded kind.” The brunette replied sweetly, casting a dismissive glace in Alucard's direction of which the Vampyre revelled in. “Your claim is accurate from what I can see. You are certainly in a league all on your own, that much is apparent. So I do find myself rather drawn to you... Academically. I do not fear you however, Vampyre. I am sorry to deprive you of that pleasure.” And then he was walking away, towards Alucard's shelves to toy with this and that, Joachim unable to resist stalking his prey once their back was turned. Of course the Hunter seemed to turn round in no hurry, but coincidentally just in time to keep Joachim at bay.
“You are giving me a very different sort of pleasure, Little One, no apologies are necessary. I must ask what cave you were found in. Are there more of you in there, because I feel that I would greatly benefit from the company of one such as yourself.”
Trevor Belmont leaned back against a thin side table resting along the wall, essentially allowing himself to be cornered when Joachim moved in closer, instinct driving the Vampyre forward wherever weakness was shown. “I'm so sorry again. I'm afraid I am also one of a kind.” The boy, the absolutely nutter butters kid from six hundred years ago, let his head drop to the side to stare up at the Vampyre, baiting. His vital neck exposed and now even presented, almost like an offering. Joachim, having lived well and good over a thousand years that Yoko was aware of, recognized the trap, knew the danger, and had been smart enough to survive longer than any other Vampyre currently living. Yoko knew that as fact. But under the aura of the Belmont boy, the Vampyre took the risk. Taloned hands placed themselves on Trevor's hips, his body's proximity forcing the Hunter's knees to open in order to accommodate him. It made Yoko feel ill. Taken out of context they could easily be two playfully amorous lovers... but she had the context.
“Is that what you believe?” Joachim chuckled to himself and shook his head. “You know what I am, you said. Little One... You know I must ask... What kind of creature do you think you are?” Lethally close now, Joachim curled his body to look the Hunter in his eyes, teeth ready, hands roaming up the contours of the boy's sides.
“Me?” Trevor sighed, sipping from his wine bottle. “Just a simple man, that's all.” The brunette leaned back the last few inches he had left, baiting the Vampyre to all but fall upon him, and even lifted a hand to thread fingers through the silver hair.
Seconds from sinking his teeth into Trevor, Joachim's burning eyes fixed the boy in place, his words coming out in a low hungry exhale. “No... No you are not.”
A moment passed where Trevor looked to be hesitating, the first moment Yoko had seen from the second he encountered Joachim where the younger Hunter seemed to second guess whatever his game plan was. The moment did pass, and Trevor, committed now, took his last swig from the wine bottle, discarded it, and seized both sides of the Vampyre's head. Joachim seemed just as surprised as the rest of the present company when Trevor Belmont pulled the ancient Vampyre of old into a kiss. As tedious a dance that had been the struggle for power between two forces of nature was, the young Belmont at least appeared to have come out on top. Joachim tried to pull back, but Trevor threw his arms around the night stalker to hang on until they were now both standing. Only then did the Hunter shove the Vampyre away with a defiant glare and a disgusted spit. He waited a moment, gauging Joachim's pained expression, before moving to the table to grab the bucket the wine bottle had formally inhabited. This he shoved into Joachim's hands as the Vampyre knelt in agony, and leaned down as well to assess the damage he'd caused.
Trevor watched Joachim struggle to catch breath, coughing as pink foam began to escape the corners of his mouth before speaking. “I do not like the aggressive manner in which you were holding my friend.” The Hunter informed the retching Vampyre with no sympathy in his voice. “I only have one Dhampyre, and I would prefer to keep him around, intact. You will be nicer to him in the future, and in return, I will be much nicer to you, yes?” Trevor did not wait for Joachim to sputter a reply in between all his hacking and pink foamy vomiting. “One more thing, my one of a kind Vampyre. Next time I inform you that you are in my way... Move.”
With a quick chaste kiss to Joachim's sweating brow, the Terror of Tokyo retrieved his wine bottle and disappeared out the back door into the dark garden. In place of the wine bottle was an empty vial of holy water.
Yoko's thrilled smile could not have been larger. She cast a glance over at Julius who was just as obviously pleased with the outcome, though she could see he had not dropped his guard. She kept hers in turn, taking cue from her better. The creeper continued to vomit up foamy blood into the ice bucket as Alucard bent to his side with a dish towel and to pull the Vampyre's hair aside so as not to get any of the sick on it. Yoko had no such sympathy. She didn't know what the complicated hell was going on between the creep and Al, as made evident by the conversation before Trevor Belmont was introduced to the mix, and right now she did not need to. He had finally gotten some comeuppance.
“If you had told me you were coming so soon, Joachim, I would have warned you.” Alucard sighed, running a soothing hand along his back as the demon spasmed sporadically. Yoko was not alone in taking note of how gentle and concerned Alucard was acting. Very suspicious.
“I think I am in love.” The Vampyre managed to sputter before heaving up the last of his bloodied insides. In a paradoxical event to how volatile the monster tended to be, his anger was non existent. “Pray tell, what is that delightful creature, Kitten? I would very much love for him to be nicer to me.”
Once again it was made apparent the relationship between Joachim and Alucard was far more complex and intimate then Yoko had originally been lead to believe. “That is Trevor Belmont. My Trevor Belmont.”
The Vampyre regarded his younger Moroi seriously, asking. “Are you certain?” When Alucard nodded, he continued. “Then this is why you are still here. That is a valid excuse, Kitten. I will not hold this one against you. You could have just said so in the beginning.”
“I was going to eventually. I'm sorry... But thank you. Yes, he is why I am still here.”
“You are a fool, but forgiven. Those adorable little pagan college girls are holding a seance tonight at three in the park to summon a demon. You will meet me there and we will give these girls the demons they were hoping to summon. After we have had our fun, you are going to tell me exactly how this has all come to be. You owe me that, Kitten.” Joachim stood and let out a sigh of his own. “Truly I do not know why I keep helping you. You never even asked why I really came here early.”
Alucard gave the Vampyre an apologetic smile. “I have been a selfish friend. There is a lot of that going around lately. Why have you come, Joachim, if not to check in on me?”
Grey eyes rolled before a taloned hand reached into the threadbare blue coat to pull out a manila envelope. “You have not earned this. I am being generous.”
“What do you have for me?” Alucard's eyes locked upon the envelope dancing between Joachim's hands. He reached out to take it, but the Vampyre held firm. “Joachim?”
“Three in the morning. You will not be late or find another convenient excuse. We will have fun first and then get to business. You are Moroi too, Kitten. It is not healthy to spend all your time with the living.” Joachim tossed the envelope at Yoko, who just to save face, was glad she caught it in a smooth manner. “The girl human will get the most use out of what that contains. It's old crone affairs and young girl silliness. See you later.” And just as abruptly as Trevor Belmont had left out the back door, Joachim did too.
Alucard combed through his hair and let out a huge relieved sigh. The Dhampyre watched Joachim give a little parting bow to Trevor who was out tending a small fire in the pit, only returning his focus to the humans when the Vampyre had taken off. “What do we have in there, Yoko?” He asked her in a tired voice.
Yoko reluctantly opened the envelope, unsure she really wanted to know what Joachim thought would be important to her. To her surprise... It might actually be that break in the case they really needed.
Chapter 24: The End of the Journey
Chapter Text
December 31st 1476 ~ Castle Dracula, The Count's personal chambers
Furious footsteps echoed off the final tower walls, the warning bells of a trio of bloodied, desperate, but impossibly hopeful humans charging into the private chambers that belonged to the monster they had come to overthrow. Beneath their climb lay dead hundreds of the night hoard. Dracula's final guardians no match for the man who had promised to slay the Count. Hunter, Rogue and Mage spilled into the open and vacant hallways, a crescent shaped room lined with wide windows, every one viewing another angle of the spire throne room. Every one a glimpse at their final destination. Alucard followed behind at his own unhurried pace. Knowing intimately how Dracula was, and that the night hoard would not climb the final tower stairs to pursue them here. This was their Master's family home. Whatever stepped foot amongst these halls belonged to Dracula. The trio and the great Vampyre's first born were now the Count's to deal with as he saw fit.
Sensing no immediate threat, save the one they had come here for, Trevor Belmont stepped towards the first of the expansive windows, gazing up through the moonlight to stare at the large silhouette seen through the panes of glass in the spire above. From his royal perch, Dracula's shadow gazed back down at the Hunter, and the energy in the hallway sucked the heat from the air as well as their bodies. The great Vampyre drawing all warmth to him, to help fuel his Hellfire, no doubt. Dracula knew what he was looking down upon. The blessed whip could curdle his blood and aura sting the Vampyre from miles away. He could feel a Belmont the moment they entered his sphere of influence. Seeming not to feel the supernatural chill, Trevor lifted the hand holding the whip and pressed it against the panes of glass. In sight of the very creature it had been designed to smite, the Vampyre Killer's luminescence sliced through the night sky separating Hunter and Prey, illuminating, for just a moment, his father's grim face before the Count faded back into the darkness of his throne room.
“You are with me?” The Hunter whispered to his companions.
“Always.” They agreed in unison.
Alucard did not wish to break up this inspiring moment, but there was a matter of his needing to retrieve some things in order to be prepared. “I need a moment, I am afraid.” The apologetic tone he hoped conveyed how much he hated to detract from their collective determination. Without explanation he found his way to his old chambers, fully expecting and rather glad in a homesick sort of fashion to see Persephone laying out tea and crullers. The demon maid bobbed a curtsy in greeting, returning to her work. “Green tea crullers. My favourite, Persephone. Thank you.”
Behind him filled in his human companions, but he held a hand up and shook his head to show there was no threat. As if to prove his point, Persephone straightened from her task, now complete, and gave the new guests yet another deep curtsy. “The young Prince's guests are welcome to catch their breath and clean up here.” She informed them, politely. “The Count does not like to feed on dirty animals. My Master has also informed me to let you know, dear Prince, that he has missed you. If you chose to stay here, when he has finished seeing to your guests, he will meet you here to discuss further. He regrets having hurt you.”
Alucard found himself chuckling grimly. “If he had regrets, he knew where to find me.”
“Do you require anything else, my Prince?” Persephone inquired, polite, smooth. If she took offence to his bitterness concerning her master, she did not show it.
“That will be all, Persephone.” Alucard shook his head, dismissing her. Without another word or glance, away she went dropping another polite curtsy, cleaning supplies and serving cart in tow. The humans watched her warily enter the next room to tend to her chores and close the door. “She is no threat to you, do not be concerned. My father has marked you as his. Nothing will touch you now.”
“Except your father.” Trevor replied tightly. “What do you need here? Please tell me you have not stopped us simply to have a cup of tea and a pastry.”
To this the Dhampyre exhaled in what could have been a laugh under different circumstances. They could very well be marching to their deaths in just a few minutes. In a handful's time, the beautiful Hunter and his endearing petulance could be wiped from the earth forever. Of course he wished he could have laugh, and fully enjoy this brief reprieve. Every fleeting precious moment with Trevor was to be savoured. “I am here to fetch my sword. You should all take a moment to drink some water or tea and have a bite. I promise Persephone does not serve poisoned dishes. It would be rude and an insult.”
With that, he left his companions in the sitting room of his private quarters and stepped into his bedroom. Untouched save for Persephone's dusting. There he found what he was looking for quickly, but without urgency. His father would relish every moment of the wait. Why deny the old man perhaps what would be his last pleasure? His borrowed garb from his father's villa discarded, he changed into the finery he gravitated towards. Black and gold details, his silver weapon sheathed, his crimson lined cloak donned. Silver throwing daggers he secured along belts where they were easy to reach. He was a regal image in the reflection of the mirror, and as he wished to meet his father. Polished and complete. Not the cowed frightened animal that had barely clawed their way out of his Castle the first time. Gathering up the rest of the magickal and mystical weapons in his collection, he returned to his companions and rolled them out along the floor for the group to restock their personal armoury.
When he looked up from his offering, he found Grant and Sypha staring wide-eyed at Trevor, the Hunter perched comfortably upon a cushioned chair one leg folded over the other, sipping tea and polishing off a cruller at the table. Patiently waiting for the Dhampyre to finish up his personal affairs. “It's not poisoned.” Trevor confirmed to his shocked fellow hunters. “I have slept in Dracula's bed, ate his food, drank his wine, I am wearing clothes he bought for his child, and now I am eating his cakes and drinking his tea. Next I will take his kingdom from him and give it back to the people of Wallachia. Were I you, I would celebrate with a pastry too.”
“Why the fuck not?” Grant gave in, and reached for one of his own to eat. “I'll either live or die. But I won't be hungry in either case.”
“This must be... Belmont logic.” Sypha agreed after a pause, stealing her own. “You have found me a new wand, Alucard. The clarity of the crystal is perfect for channelling.” Wolfing down her pastry, the diminutive mage collected the wand best to her liking and conjured a few small flames with which to test it out. “Quite nice to have something of quality for a change, yes?” She waited for Grant and Trevor to pick through what was on display before growing deathly serious. “Now we are with you, Trevor Belmont. We have already celebrated, so we must be victorious.”
Stepping to block the doorway, Alucard drew their attention. He made sure to catch each Rogue and Mage by the eye before he let his glamour fall. His friends deserved to look upon him as he truly was. Their trust had been earned time and time again. Grant's face grew shocked, but Sypha merely made a self-satisfied noise. No doubt she knew he had maintained a magickal disguise this whole time. “At the top of that spire is a man that will wear this face. I have been told that I resemble my father quite a lot... But I am not as he is. I am with you, Grant Danasty, and I am with you Sypha Belnades. We all stand with you, Trevor Belmont.”
The Hunter stood, gleaming whip in hand and met all their gazes. The flickering candles of chandelier lights cast his shadows along every wall, stretching him out to Goliath proportions. It seemed there was not one but two monsters in the Castle this night. Only one would stand the victor. “I have been honoured to accompany you all here. I will not fail. Your hope of better days has arrived, my friends.”
The battle forged friendship of hunters and Dhampyre moved as one through the empty halls of Dracula, climbing the final staircase that lead to the Master's innermost sanctum. When the towering slabs of iron groaned open, revealing the waiting Count Dracula behind, the Hunter's hand found the Dhampyre's, and squeezed. Hand in hand they stepped into the soaring chamber to face the man responsible for all the suffering in these blasted lands. When Alucard's words failed to sway Dracula's tortured mind from his ceaseless revenge, Trevor finally let him go to ready the Vampyre Killer. To slay Alucard's father and put an end to all the madness.
Faced with losing the last portion of all he'd known and loved, as well as his one sure place with which to belong, Alucard thought of only one final thing before drawing his sword.
Trevor had to live. So did he. Alucard would never hold that hand again if they failed.
*****
January 1st 1477 ~ Outside Castle Dracula, in the morning sun
Above the exhausted but elated hunters, the Castle trembled from it's very bowels. With it's Master vanquished, the anomalous entity shifted in form, losing the cognizant choices of Dracula's aesthetics, already the rooms rearranging themselves as they saw fit. Banners changed symbols and colours as they shuffled through ancient and perhaps imagined coats of arms, spires and towers ascended and descended altering in architectural cohesion, the Castle unsure of how it wanted to exist on it's own accord after so long under the command of Alucard's father. The wailing nighthoards that had not yet burned up under the sun as the Ebony Stone's power ebbed with Dracula's life force, scattered to the forests seeking darkness they would not find, or managed to sneak into the bowels of a master-less entity shifting before them. The sunlight, as if seeking it's own revenge after so long being shut away from these lands, blazed hotter and brighter than a winter sun had any right to.
Around the Dhampyre basked his human friends, inhaling the air that carried not the heavy, sickly sweet smell of decay, but instead of crispness, freshness. The bite from the water chilled breeze giving their cheeks a rosy glow. They leaned upon one another to hold their balance, each one injured in some fashion, and the Hunter possibly blind in one eye. Injured as they all were... they were also victorious. His father was defeated. The world could have some semblance of normalcy one day soon. What that meant for Alucard was already weighing on his mind, the reality here now, but he could not dwell. Not yet, not when they still had to make it back safely to Wallachia. Doing what Trevor did when the Hunter's mind was racing, Alucard set himself about to be useful, focusing on cleaning and bandaging Sypha's wounds first. If only so that their medicine making mage was fit to help the others more properly.
As the girl turned her attentions to Grant, the most torn up of the humans, Alucard bent to clean the blood off of Trevor's face, stopping to laugh at the result below the gore. “What are the chances?” He teased the Hunter, delicately tracing the gouge his father had left. In a perfect angle from the diagonal scar Alucard had left on the Hunter's face from brow to hairline during their initial duel, his father had completed by neatly bisecting the left half of the younger man's face. “I think you will keep your eye, if you were concerned about that.”
“I was more concerned that I will have to work harder to get what I want now that I don't have a pretty face to rely on.” The Hunter laughed jokingly, but Alucard felt there was a hint of truth to the brunette's words. “Honestly, what happened in there would have been worth the price of an eye. We have... we've done it. Adrian. We've really truly done it.” Emotional now, The Hunter blinked away his stray tears of relief, momentarily holding himself together before he threw his bloodied arms around Alucard's neck, his smaller frame alternating between bouts of laughter and happy tears. “I love you all so much. Thank you from the depths of everything I have. I mean it. I really mean it.” Perhaps overcome with his relief and gratitude, the Hunter reached up to grab the Dhampyre face and kissed him before everyone to see.
Alucard froze in place, but Trevor seemed not to notice, pulling away only so far as to embrace him once again, still laughing and telling them all how grateful he was for every one in present company. What else could Alucard do but continue to hold the boy clinging to him for dear life, and trade embarrassed smiles between their other friends? “You kept your promise, Trevor.” The Dhampyre, also now growing emotional, pulled the Hunter in closer. “My father suffers no more. I have you to thank for that.” He felt the Hunter's body reciprocate his desperately tight hold before the boy stepped back, both hands threaded with his own and pulled the Dhampyre to Grant and Sypha's side. Alucard missed his touch already when the boy released him to next throw his arms around the Rogue.
“You're not going to kiss me now, are you?” Grant wondered out loud, only to have Trevor do exactly that. Planting a chaste kiss right on the Rogue's lips against the other man's protest. “Kid, I am never going to be able to say I don't know what kissing you feels like now.” The Rogue groaned.
“In a few months from now people will be begging you to tell them what kissing me feels like, brother.” Trevor retorted, pouncing on Sypha next. The Mage was spared a kiss, but she did get twirled around and tossed in the air a few times, her squeals of protest juxtaposed against her evident joy at being swung around, bringing a playful sense of mirth to everyone in attendance. “You, my lovely and wonderfully talented sorceress, are going to have all the cakes you can eat for a lifetime!”
“I will hold you to your word, Trevor Belmont.” The Mage cackled. “But I suppose you have proven that your word is good, yes? Come boy, put me down. We must make it to the village first, if I am to get my well earned cakes.”
“Yes, yes of course!” Trevor tossed the girl one last time for good measure and put her down. “This is the greatest birthday I have ever had.” Beyond elated, he next hoisted the injured Grant up to carry piggy-back as the Rogue's leg had been terribly mangled by Dracula's claws. Without missing a beat, the Hunter started off, calling back to the Mage and Dhampyre. “If you don't hurry I am going to leave you here.”
Exasperated, Sypha called out. “It's not a race! How old are you, Trevor Belmont!?”
Already having reached the canopy of the forest trees, Trevor paused and turned back, answering. “Today? Today I am twenty years old, Sypha Belnades. And I hope to live at least another twenty more!”
“He is such a child.” Sypha moaned, but the girl all but ran to catch up.
Alucard trailed after at his own pace, mind already on the nebulous uncertain future.
*****
January 1477 ~ The Edge of Wallachia
The journey back towards civilization and life was not at all what they had come to know pushing against the night hoard towards death and the Castle. The stillness of these new era nights brought them the peace of mind to burn fires, sing songs and play games. The absence of the night creatures, terrified as they were and without the Force of Will to guide them they had known for hundreds of years, only emboldened the humans. Eventually the monsters that emerged under the pale of the moon would regroup, break off into splintered tribes of like kind and no doubt pose a nuisance in no time. But the uniting force behind them was no more. Their attacks would be disorganized and opportunistic. Natural. No different then a pack of wolves picking off a sickly goat. The humans stood a chance against nature. It was as it should be.
Relative safety lead the group to scavenge for a suitable clinker built cog along the waterfront of the Castle, bypassing the fact that Dracula's army had demolished the great bridge linking the heart of the land to the western villages. Grant instructed them on how to sail, taking the bulk of the duties on himself, for they were just sailing across the great river chasm. Alucard had never set foot on a ship before and found he did not care for so much dangerous lethal water around, but then neither had Trevor. And the boy, as much as he could not swim, seemed to love every minute of it. Delighting in the breeze and climbing every dangerous looking surface to get a better view or feel the wind more fully. Grant in kind seemed to have mostly given up eliciting Trevor's help, instead resigned to let the Hunter play. The Dhampyre could see on the old Rogue's face that Trevor's excitement and giddiness brought him joy, too. It was a wonderful thing, after all, for the youth of the world to simply be able to play.
As they grew ever closer to the end of their travels, Alucard felt his mood grow ever blacker. Mirth could not touch him. Trevor's warmth at night as the boy sidled up to him content and happy could not take the ice from his veins. The weight of his decisions were falling upon him, minute by minute, stone by agonizing stone. These humans had lives outside this task that had banded them together. In no time at all they would be want to get along with those lives. This merry band of battle-bonded friends would separate. The Dhampyre had only vague ideas of what he would do, of the reparations he had to make, and how to go about doing them. He had made a promise to the Hunter to catch him when the man could finally allow himself to fall, but as the plumes of smoke from Wallachia grew nearer, Alucard felt his resolve dissolved. How could he catch Trevor when he was falling as well? Finally at the edge of the forest's canopy cover, his feet simply refused to move one step further.
Alucard watched his friends descend the rolling hill towards the gates of Wallachia, Grant and Sypha in the lead, and an exhausted Trevor bringing up the rear. The long trek from France to Wallachia, to Dracula and back once again finally over, and the poor boy's seemingly endless energy at last depleted. Not his Hunter's perception though, as Trevor stopped in the road and looked back to see him still standing in the shade of the trees. The Hunter dropped all his bags and trotted back to the forest opening, his face openly concerned, and Alucard loved him all the more for that.
“We're almost there, Adrian. You can't be too tired to walk another twenty minutes.” The Hunter studied his serious face and reached out to lightly punch his arm in jest. “Don't tell me you want a piggy-back ride too now?”
I love this man so much. His heart was aching, threatening to tear out of his chest if only to escape what foolish thing he was about to do. Knowing that, he just couldn't force himself to walk into that village yet. The last place his mother had been alive, the place of her murder. Long ago in history for them, but not for one such as he. Weight was crushing his chest, grief clawing his insides, and regret haunting the places unseen inside his mind. Trevor needed him now that this was all over, the boy had whispered this truth to him with naked vulnerability, yet he could not catch his love, for he was the one falling. Truly, his legs gave way from under him, only the Hunter's quick reaction catching him before he hit the earth.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” He managed to mutter between heaving breaths, clinging to the brunette who rocked him gently, all attempts to sooth his sudden panic in vain.
“I am here, Adrian.” Trevor whispered, safely lowering them to the ground to better hold him. “I am with you, always. You don't have to be afraid.”
“It's not...” He tried weakly to explain, but it truly was fear after all that stopped him. Fear and a million other doubts and utter bleakness. Gods, the consuming bleakness of what could lay ahead. “I cannot do this yet.” He cried instead, trying to bury himself in the smaller man. “I thought I could but... It's all gone. All I have known is gone, save you. My father... By my own hand...”
“Stay with me, Adrian. You do not have to grieve alone.” Trevor pleaded, torn between his desire to stay and comfort the Dhampyre and the paternal urge driving him to reunite with his children just a twenty minute walk away. The conflict of his heart twisting the young Belmont's features. “You will get through this and I will be with you every painful step along the way. Please... we are so close. Come with me.”
“I want you to go, Trevor. I am not ready, but you all are. Your sons are just over there. They need you to go.”
The yearning was so open on the young father's face, but his loyalty kept him rooted where he was, holding a demon in the very same arms that should be holding his little boys. “This is not how our tale was supposed to finish. You were going to come with me to the very end. We were going to sleep in my bed, rest, grieve our collective losses and leave, Adrian. We're not staying in that hateful place. We are leaving as soon as we know where we want to go. I will be with you, keeping you safe as you will keep me. Please... Find the courage to take these last few steps.”
“I just cannot... I just need... I need...” His voice failed and he chanced a helpless look at the Hunter's face, unique blue eyes full of sorrow... but acceptance.
“You need time, right?” Trevor surmised, understanding his plight even more than he understood it himself. “We all grieve in our own ways, Adrian. If you need to be alone to put your tragedy behind you... Then you need to be alone. I wish you did not. I wish very much that you would let me be with you while you suffer as you must be. It's okay to take what you need, though. Even solitude.” While the Hunter's voice was soothing and sympathetic, his face was a mess of emotions, and tears escaped either unknowingly or uncaring from his eyes. “Do you see that large old tree just along the path?” He asked, pulling Alucard away from his chest so that the Dhampyre would take note of it, gnarled ancient thing that it was. “Every Sunday after the Church bells toll I am going to come here and wait for a while. When you are ready, you can meet me here. If you are not ready, you can still meet me here. Even just to talk. Or to sit in silence. The point is, I will be here waiting for you when you need me, Adrian. If you find you have nowhere to go, you can come here. I will be here for you. Do you understand?”
Words failed him, so Alucard simply nodded, lost in the storm but at least with a beacon of light lit for him to find his way. The following kiss Trevor tilted him to meet was perhaps the softest and most gentlest the Hunter had ever given him. More then a kiss, it was in itself a promise. Trevor would be waiting for him. He need only meet the Hunter halfway, and they could continue together as one.
Reluctantly, Trevor pulled them to their feet and stepped away from him, wiping at stray tears in an attempt to compose himself. “I am not going to say goodbye, Adrian. I will see you soon. You will take care while I am away?” When Alucard nodded again, the Hunter took another reluctant step back. “I will tell the others that you wish them well. But I do hope that you return to see them off yourself.” Another reluctant two steps and the Hunter turned around, his back to the Dhampyre. “My sons have been asking me for a hound. Wherever we decide to go, I hope it will allow them a dog to play with.” The Hunter strode a few more paces almost as if that would be the end of it, see you until later and all, but his steps faltered just once more before he was beyond the Dhampyre's range of hearing. In a whisper hitched with emotions, the Hunter turned his head slightly in Alucard's direction and promised him one more time. “This is our time now, Adrian. I think with just a little more time without having to worry about life and death... I will find you easy to love. When you're ready, I am here... and I am ready.”
With that, the Vampyre Hunter of renown blood collected his gear and moved forward with his life. Forward towards his fame and glory, his riches, and the two people he treasured the most. The Great Hero's return. His own Chant du Guerre.
And Alucard... Alucard faded further into the trees, watching until the dots along the road vanished beyond the city gates. Watching the gates for longer still, frozen in place, mind numb as the plumes of smoke from the village increased, the sky purpled, music carried on the winds, faded, and morning came again. Church bells, music, bonfires, cheering, more purple skies, more fading merriment, more silence. More daylight. Again and again.
At some point he started walking away from the noise, the music, the plumes. He walked aimlessly. He found flowers frozen peeking out of the snow and studied them in the light of day and then amber of eve, in the moonlight and in the morning light again. No thoughts other than their composition, lights against shadow, crystallized. He found an abandoned cave, perhaps once a bear's, and studied the hewn interior, hollowed and scraped by claws different than his own. No thoughts other than of the shapes of the scrapes, their directions, their beauty in their simplicity. He walked more, light and dark, night and day. The scar on his chest stopped hurting eventually. He could feel his full powers returning to him as the pain abides. He no longer walked aimlessly but flew on bat wings as he pleased, or chased the baying packs of wolves in his own canine form. He breached the forest canopy into the moonlight and saw the Castle looming still on the horizon. This struck him to his core. He began to think again about why he was where he is currently perched. He turned on the dark winds and flew back towards Wallachia. It is so far away... He has wandered so far from where he was supposed to be. Bat wings aren't fast enough. He shifts to a wolf and runs. At some point he is running with the wild wolves of the valley and must break away from them lest he lose himself once more. He has to get to Wallachia.
His heart starts to ache as his thoughts fight to process once more. The cogs of his mind creaking into gear with resistance. The pain and grief is there waiting for him. None of this aimless wandering and losing himself has lessened the hollowing of his soul. His body is a void, and he is falling within himself further and further into nothingness. He has to get to Wallachia or he never will stop this pitiful terrifying plummet.
A tree.
He has to get to an old tree. It is important. He is supposed to meet Trevor by the tree.
Only... Trevor is not at the tree. Yet Alucard is sure this is the correct one. It is ancient and overlooking Wallachia. He can smell the faintest traces of Trevor, like the memory of him. A sweetened mix of earth and sky. Trevor Belmont smells just like that.
The terror claws his innards again as his sight settles on sleeping Wallachia. Gutted, memories of fire and Lisa's wailing eat his resolve. He returned to the trees with an apologetic howl at the moon. Perhaps Trevor could hear it's mournful tone from his home in the village and knew what he was trying to say. He doesn't go as far this time, however. The sound of bells on the breeze coax him out after some time has passed, time he finds he can no longer count without the routine of others around him.
Dhampyric eyesight easily made out the one he has come here to find from low bushes, hidden under melting snow. The scent calmed him considerably, distracting from the fear and agony inside. No longer in the adorned coat and padded armour, Trevor Belmont's pace is languid and relaxed. He carries only a belt pouch, belt knife, and a carving knife. Not even the hallowed whip. Dhampyre in wolf form watches the Hunter enjoy the solitary walk, stopping here and there to peel lichen off rocks for some purpose and deposit them in the belt pouch.
Trevor works unhurriedly and seems to only glance at the old ancient tree here and there, as if he is not expecting a white haired man to greet him next to it any time soon. Watching the Hunter knits Alucard's mind closer to some semblance of normal. The bestial fog he'd almost lost himself to draws back, burned away by the longing fires of his heart. If only the fear would just let him move. But it will not. His presence will always be a threat to Trevor and his children. Being with the living will always be a deadly and dangerous game for him. He has no mother or father to protect him. He has nowhere to hide but these trees, where he can fade into their shadows.
Trevor is gone after some time.
More time passes. Day and night, night and day.
Trevor comes, and Trevor goes.
Alucard watches.
Trevor builds a bench in the spring by the ancient tree. Sometimes he reads on it. He starts to hollow out a part of the tree and hide books and carvings he is working on, secreting them away for his next visit. In the early summer heat he naps on the bench, book or project in hand toppling onto the ground when the midday peace carries him to dreams. Sometimes he practices his agility and athletics, and Alucard enjoys watching that. Eventually Alucard begins to skirt the clearing of the ancient tree when Trevor is there, and the Hunter does take notice. Alucard starts finding food after Trevor has left, and though he does not need to eat human food, he does because Trevor has left it for him. The Hunter spends more visits trying to coax the 'dog' out into the opening, and eventually he succeeds. Alucard is happy to have his fur ruffled and caressed, but ashamed he is too afraid to change back into his true form... He is terribly, horribly ashamed he is so afraid to be himself with Trevor after everything they had spoken about and promised each other.
He refused to follow the Hunter home because of that. He can't be Trevor's dog, easy a compromise as it would be. Trevor did not want an obedient subservient animal. He wanted a partner on equal footing. He wanted Alucard to come to him as he truly was so the Hunter could finally fall into his arms. It was the Dhampyre who wasn't ready.
The children start to come with Trevor, packed lunches and toys in hand. They have rope and stick whips of their own to play and practice with, though only the rambunctious red-headed one seemed to be keen on the idea and possess any talent. The red-headed one chases the dog, and Alucard is happy to play along, biting the stick to tug the boy around much to his glee. Trevor is always cautiously close by, fatherly reflexes at the ready to intervene should the wild dog... go wild. The little brunette twin, the spitting image of his father, was much too shy and nervous to come near him. The brunette child will tolerate him laying nearby as their father reads to them. It was pleasant enough to belong in a sense this way. Trevor was a wonderful storyteller. He'd lied to Alucard the first time they spoke.
Feeling his courage grow with each visit, he does follow the family back to the gates one day at a distance. He sees the home Trevor currently calls his own just inside the village gates, and watches the family disappear behind the closed door. He supposed it is not too far inside Wallachia... He could probably make it just inside soon. One day soon. Across the street from Trevor's home was a small blonde girl playing in the grass just outside her own front door. This girl watches the blue-black wolfhound transfixed, but it is enough to be seen by an unknown human to shatter his resolve. The woods welcome him back, and he is grateful to have them.
More time passes. Day and night, night and day.
Trevor comes and Trevor goes. Sometimes with children, sometimes alone.
Alucard feels like he is growing ready. He comes routinely to the village gates to see the Hunter or the family home after their visits to the tree. At night he has started taking to perching on the village wall and peering into the open windows of the Belmont house. Sometimes he catches sight of Trevor whisking back and forth, bathing children, cleaning house. He catches sight of Sypha too, the Mage no longer hiding her womanhood with cropped hair and bulky garments. She sleeps in Trevor's bed, and he with his sons in theirs. Alucard is happy she is safe and well. He wonders if she would come with them when he is ready. It would be an interesting dynamic, for sure.
It is growing cool again. Then there is snow.
Time passes, day and night, night and day. It seems more time passes between Trevor's visits than before, but how can he truly say? He needs Trevor to keep pace with the living world.
Alucard keeps watching.
It's spring again, then summer.
It's cool again, and then the snow comes.
Alucard is ready, he thinks. Trevor is thriving. His children have gotten noticeably bigger and look well. Sypha's tresses are now ribbons of ringlets down her back and she is viewed out and about the village more and more. If Sypha is living out in the open being what she is... Surely Alucard can live with some precautions? He follows Trevor back to the village, and perches on the wall to watch over them all night. Sypha has baked a variety of sweets. It is Trevor's birthday and she thought he would like that. The Hunter does. Villagers have come to visit, one brings the little girl from the house across the street. She too is growing a lot. When they leave Trevor does not go to bed down with his sons. He goes to his own room with Sypha. Alucard watches them lay side by side. They do not touch, but they talk all night until they fall asleep. He could not make out what they say.
Time passes, day and night, night and day. It's Spring then Summer. The leaves start to change and Trevor finally arrives.
He is in his long leather coat and padded armour vest. He has a full rucksack and a horse. On his person are silver knives, holy water, and his blessed holy whip. His boots and gloves are all new. The Hunter reaches into his tree hollow to collect a few things for the road, but does not immediately hop on his horse once he's packed them away. Instead he stares at the ancient tree for a long time and Alucard can see his visage crumble for just a moment. He sits on the bench, leaves crunching beneath him and stared out at the trees, forlornly looking for something... someone...
For me.
Alucard is ready now, he is certain, but the Dhampyre does not want to upset whatever plan the Hunter has. Clearly the man had somewhere to be. It was all right. He will be the one on the bench sitting when the Hunter returns. Instead, he shifts his form into a clear fog, no different than the one drifting about on this typical autumn morn and encircles the Hunter. A silent encouragement for the Hunter's trip ahead, wherever it leads him.
Trevor stands bolt upright searching the surroundings both high and low for the essence he feels but finds nothing that can be seen with his own two eyes. Alucard's misty form gathers more or less into his shape, but he is still camouflaged in the morning fog. He reaches out to embrace the Hunter, and the man stills.
“Warm fog..?” Trevor whispers, reaching out to determine what is warm and what is cool. His hands guide him into seeing the approximate familiar shape, and the Hunter both gasps and stills again. “I must be going mad.” Trevor murmurs to himself, but he reached out to embrace the warm patch of mist back in spite of the proclamation. “Completely mad.” He states quite firmly and backs away to mount his steed. Before guiding the horse onto the worn pathway the Hunter turned back one last time and searched the expanse of trees. “I... I really miss you, Adrian. Wherever you are.”
Trevor came, and Trevor went.
Time passes, day and night, night and day.
Adrian is waiting on the bench patiently.
He is ready.
Chapter 25: Fear is Wisdom
Chapter Text
July 2037 ~ Suginami Ward, Tokyo – Evening
Yoko poured over the contents of the manila envelope which the group had spread out over the chabudai, eyes catching that increasingly familiar boxy symbol here and there amongst the screen shots and documents. What it appeared to all be, all said and done from a layman's perspective, was a trail innocuously beginning from some South American small pocket surface web forum from years ago. Mostly young women and girls trading recipes for 'moon water' and 'Aura cleansers', arguing the merits for and against smudging based on to what degree a person believed the practice to be cultural appropriation. Beyond that, what the snippets in the envelope focused on was the odd singular reply of an individual, or in the most likely of scenarios, many individuals utilizing the same login, responding cryptically to the eager aspiring witches. Every single one-off reply on a forum topic from an account with that semi organic boxy symbol as it's avatar. The trail lead off from cached sites to what Alucard said reminded him of an old BBS system. A few blank stares from the Mage and Hunter later, the Dhampyre politely explained to her it was like a digital bulletin board used heavily back in the 80's and 90's heyday origins of consumer internet, a filing and idea system which was notoriously hard to police and search through. Yoko had an idea where this was leading. Somebody was screening for online witches, leading them off easy to archive sites, and from there who knew where. But she sure did have an idea why.
“So we're not exactly the Tech Division here, Jules.” Yoko sighed, scratching her head with both hands in a self soothing matter long enough to make Alucard step back from her; likely afraid she had lice... or fleas. “We are more the smash bash and fireballs approach when it comes to problems. Not too mention we don't have a budget from HQ to even start pretending we know what we're doing chasing internet monsters. We're supposed to be cleaning up the Eclipse fiasco and doing a surveillance of that. This whole Witch side project is Alucard's, and he ain't on our pay docket. The Iron Maiden has no idea we're using the last of the Church funds helping out a friend.”
The old hunter made a sour face and grunted his agreement. “This is way out of my element. But if I had to hazard a guess, you could probably get yourself an account on these fluff sites and try and see if you're outstanding enough get yourself invited to the private servers.” Julius hedged, leaving plenty of room for discussion. Not that Yoko could really offer up a better suggestion. If this truly was the lead they needed, the Coven was screening these surface web girls for real innate talent. Who else was better suited to play an apprentice witch than one of the Belnades clan? “HQ didn't exactly give us the most secure devices to work with though. I wouldn't trust any link with my personal stuff.”
Alucard hummed in agreement, yellow eyes not focused on anything in his immediate surroundings. “Truth be told, I am also not that familiar with internet sleuthing. I usually pay people for that.”
“Can you pay someone for this?” Yoko asked, eager to offload the cumbersome task she was certain this was going to become.
Alucard shot her a wry smile and shook his head. “I pay criminals to do less than legal things for me. They are not witches or demons. They would not be the kind of person this High Priestess would recruit. She seems rather attached to malleable young women. Like you, Yoko. You are... young at heart.”
“I know you did not mean that as not a compliment.” She huffed. “Are we even sure it's worth figuring out after all? Now that I think about it more, she had a full coven when she near butchered...” A quick look at Alucard and out to the fire-lit patio where the Terror of Tokyo peacefully tended the fire cut her crassness off. She began again with more contentiousness in regards to her wording. “There was a full coven performing the ritual where Trevor was almost sacrificed. How do we know she's still recruiting?”
“We did butcher nearly her entire coven.” Julius replied with no regard for the brutality of truth. “They probably use it to mass communicate amongst one another. They may need replacements, or have more members doing who knows what aside from the ritual sacrifices. It wouldn't hurt to try and worm a way in on that front. Not like we have a lot to go on outside Trevor's tip on the missing pages of my family's Bestiary. I can't even find a mention anywhere in the Church Annals outside the 1500's of a possible Lilin sighting. It doesn't even quite match up to what we saw... and it was last spotted in Austria.” Throwing up a hand, Julius added rather humorlessly, “That is a pretty good recall on Belmont Jr.'s account, considering he read that entry six hundred years ago before someone... likely a Belmont, scrubbed it.”
“He would never.” Alucard defended automatically. “That book was his gospel. His mother gave it to him.”
“I wasn't implying anything.” Julius replied evenly. Yoko sure as hell did not believe him, though. The old man's tone was too even keeled. “I'm not even implying he's accurate. Lilin, Liliths, ad nauseum. They are all interchangeable terms for horny little sex pest demons. We can agree based on the evidence, that the creature is a sex pest demon, whatever the species.”
“I am not a... Sex pest.” Alucard rolled his eyes – yes, rolled his eyes, Yoko delighted – stressing the term that evidently offended his senses. “I don't need to remind you it was your species that labelled my subset Desire demons, for the very reason that you guys are the ones that find us so irredeemably desirable?”
“Well, if we're being honest, you Desire demons wouldn't stop touching us first. Don't light a match if you don't want to start a fire, you cocktease.” Julius suddenly laughed heartily. “All I was trying to say is we've got slim pickings for leads. While we're waiting for something more, how can it hurt to play around in some chats with potential recruits. Not like we have much else going on.”
“I'm not quite sure you're ever just saying the words coming out of your mouth, Julius Belmont.” The Dhampyre surrendered with a shrug of shoulders and a shake of snowy white curls. “I will see what I can do about getting you a secure laptop and VPN quickly. I'll have to bury it in some other purchase orders. It's probably better this way, as if you needed to ask the Church for additional funds, Iron Liza would take a month or two just to approve the expense report.”
“Lay off Liza, already.” Julius sighed. “She budgets for more than ten thousand employees. That being said... Thank you. It will be faster this way.”
“You're kind of adorable when you're defending your scary girlfriend.” Alucard mused.
“I could say the same about you and yours.” Julius returned with a sharp quirk of his lips.
Loathe as she was to disrupt Alucard and Julius' light banter, Yoko did have a legitimate question about the actual important serious stuff. “So just to be clear, we're at the 'do nothing until you get me a safe way to join these groups', right?” Yoko queried and nodded when she got her answer. “Don't look at me that way, Jules. I am not dumb enough to use my own cellphone to hop on those forums and snoop. I'll wait.”
The old Hunter nodded with a small sigh. Possibly one of relief. “Good to hear. We're going to have to assume this High Priestess is tech savvy, or has a few people in her employ who are, who would be able to dox you. For that matter, going forward, it's probably a smart idea for us all to at the very least go on Airplane mode for our personal devices out in that forest. Personally, I think I'll just shut mine off.”
“Using the internet to gather the resources to reach my father's abandoned Castle...” The Dhampyre's voice trailed off in a thoughtful purse of lips. “I'm surprised it's taken this long, to be honest. I shall put in the request for you Yoko first thing in the morning.” As if that was the natural end of the discussion, Alucard stood and dusted himself off.
“Where are you going?” Yoko asked, just to be nosy.
“To check on my scary girlfriend.” The Dhampyre answered absentmindedly. “He handled himself very well, but in the end, he did kiss Joachim. Who knows what Joachim was up to prior to coming here, or for that matter, who knows what he was on.”
“Fair enough.” Yoko threw up her hands and watched Alucard disappear out the squeaky patio door into the warm glow from beyond. Then it donned on her what was actually said. “Does Senõr Creepy do drugs too!?”
“Are you really surprised?” Julius replied.
*****
In the quiet flickering orange hue of the fire, Trevor did not acknowledge his arrival. The Dhampyre, unbothered by this, was content to watch the younger man study the flames in relative peace, finding his way to the iron wrought bench opposite the fire pit to do just that. The comfortable silence was not too different from many fireside vigils of the past, Alucard recalled with a twinge of longing. It all seemed so uncomplicated back then. Defeat Dracula and liberate the lands. Reap the rewards of valour, right the wrongs his early life path had taken him. Marry - well to be honest, get hand-fasted by an old crone in the woods more likely - adopt the Belmont's young boys as his own, and carry on with the business of life. What a life it would have been too. His mother would have been proud... The father he grew up knowing would have been too.
Here they were though. Six hundred years later. Some emotional wounds having been laid out and stitched back together. Some wrongs forgiven, and some pain salved. Others waiting for their moment to tear wide open, brutalizing both Hunter and Dhampyre. The Dhampyre still was unsure whether the fact only one of them knew of the impending blows was mercy or not. Still terribly afraid that the truth... that they were all that was left of that life six hundred years ago... That he was not going to be enough to catch the Hunter when he fell. Alucard... was ready to try. He had been ready for all of these six hundred years now. If only he could be enough for Trevor here and now. If only he could know if Trevor was still ready to be caught by his hands.
“You are staring at me again.” Trevor whispered, barely a breath on the still breeze. His eyes never left the dancing flames. “You're not still hungry, are you?”
Alucard stilled his hunger before it could show in his eyes. A practice mastered for civil gatherings due in part to centuries of semi coexistence. A necessary learned skill to survive polite society. “I am always hungry.” He replied equally as soft, calling back to the first time he fed upon the young Belmont. “That was... kind of you. To think of me. I appreciate the gesture more than you know. But no, I do not mean to stare at you for that. I was more wondering how you are doing.”
This caught Trevor's attention and he spared the Dhampyre a slightly confused glance. “What do you mean? I am fine. Well rested, not hungry, clean, and relaxing outdoors.”
“Yes... a man of simple pleasures, I recall. I was referring to Joachim, the Vampyre that was just here. You were not too disturbed by him, I hope?”
The Hunter rocked back and forth slightly as he pondered the question. Not anything even close to a record for the Belmont pause, but long enough to count as one. “No... I was being honest with him. He is academically fascinating. Call it a hunch, but I feel like he is more powerful than he's letting on, and his aura was plenty powerful as is. I also believe he let me get away with that stunt simply because he wasn't expecting me to even try something like that. Novelty obviously delights the demon. It seems he does not have too many ambitions though. Probably for the best.”
“I'm glad to-”
The Hunter cut him off mid-sentence. “Are you sleeping with him?”
The very notion caused Alucard to choke on nothing. Without fully catching his breath, he sputtered out a reply. “What on heaven or earth gave you that idea?”
Trevor gave a small embarrassed smile, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. “Well... he seemed to be quite, how do you say...” The Hunter paused slightly and switched to heavily accented English, finishing in a turn a phrase Yoko surely taught him. “He's definitely into you. One hundred percent.”
The broken English, while endlessly adorable, caused another choking fit, this one mixed with laughter. “Joachim is into everyone, that's his problem.” Alucard caught his breath and corrected. “No, unfortunately, that's everyone else's problem.”
“He is much more powerful than you, Adrian. You are aware?” The young Hunter asked without any sign of insult. He waited for Alucard to nod before continuing. “How is it a pure blooded Vampyre of such strength is at your beck and call? He must be getting something out of the exchange.”
“So you thought I was sleeping with him, and that was the commodity in exchange?”
“I don't know what I was thinking.” Trevor insisted, face still pinkish in hue. “I just find it interesting that such a demon is so happy to be your... What exactly is he to you?”
“You are quite hung up on the relationship between Joachim and myself. You'd have to forgive someone for saying it sounds a little jealous, Trevor.”
“Interesting.” Trevor reiterated. “Academically interesting. An ancient Vampyre taking orders from a Dhampyre? He seemed genuine hurt you apparently only order him around to do your bidding.”
While Alucard was enjoying the light teasing, he was aware of the firm line the two had drawn between them, and aware he had pushed himself to the very edge of it. Knowing that, the Dhampyre ceased his toying with the Hunter and gave a more or less honest answer. “Joachim is my oldest friend. Or he was, until I found you again. The commodity being exchanged is just our plain simple friendship, and he is fine. It's just dramatics for drama's sake.” Alucard here paused on his own, a small attempt at the Belmont pause, but not without purpose. He carefully worded his next nugget of truth, if only so that when Trevor learned the full scope, he would have the pieces to fit the narrative. “When you vanished Joachim helped look for you in Wallachia and beyond for me. He'd met your ancestor Leon long ago, and he knew of your bloodline. I was desperate for news of you and thought... who else would be able to find a legendary Vampyre Hunter than a pure blooded ancient Vampyre?”
“He didn't find me though...” Trevor's voice carried the notes of a lament.
“No... No one found you.” Alucard confirmed quietly.
“Except you.” The Hunter supplied. “Thank you for finding me.”
In response, Alucard could only offer a weak smile in return, full of his own regret and laments. He'd only realized the silence had stretched between the two men when Trevor was suddenly at his side, sitting down beside him on the bench to stare at the flames in closer proximity. Their legs touched, but the Dhampyre simply made note of the fact and assumed it innocent. The physical contact did seem to have an effect on the Hunter, however. His smooth features fell a bit, his eyes misting.
For a long time it seemed he was not going to voice what was on his mind, but quietly, with a sense of unease and the scent of trepidation in the air, Trevor finally did. “Did Sypha look for me?”
Alucard would not lie to the man to spare feelings. The truth was the truth, and there was only logic and self-perseverance in Sypha's actions and choices following Trevor's disappearance. If he loved her as he said he did, he would accept that she did what she had to do. But still, in time the truth would come out. For now he spared only another small nugget of truth. “Sypha had your children to care for. Could she, she would have, I am certain. But she did not abandon your new daughters. They needed their mother's milk.”
“Of course... of course.” Trevor whispered. “New babies I haven't even seen yet. What a mess this has all turned into. Did she... ask you to look for me?”
“She didn't have to, Trevor.” He said more firmly than he'd meant, and the Hunter did seem to take notice of his slight insult and agitation.
“Of course... Of course you would have done that all on your own. Thank you for looking, and for asking your friend to search. You will never know how sorry I am that I failed you all. That you all had to waste your time because of me... That your lives were up-heaved. My poor children...”
Alucard placed a hand on the Hunter's back and soothed in small circles. “Hush now, Trevor. I thought we were passed that. It was never your intention to abandon your family. The blame and guilt do not rest on you.”
“I am sorry about Joachim too.” Trevor continued. “About implying anything. I think I was hanging my faults on you again. Near the last memory I have is of me getting in over my head with something more powerful than I'd anticipated. It does not mean you are in over your head with a Vampyre, no matter how much stronger than you he is. Strength alone does not always persevere. I just... I..” The Hunter faltered. “Please be safe, is all. With him. With this witch. With this crazy country. Look what happened to me.”
“I will.” He said simply. “I should thank you for your stunt... Joachim has gotten into the habit of ruining many of my dress shirts with his antics. Maybe he won't be too keen to manhandle my person with you around.”
Trevor simply shook his head, quiet, still, and staring into the flames.
Alucard felt his friend's mood sink lower, dark thoughts turned inward. Perhaps... The Dhampyre wondered to himself. Perhaps I've done all I can to distract him from his troubles here. Maybe he needs a change of scenery to lift his spirits.
“Trevor, did you enjoy the car ride to my home?” He prodded, eliciting a non-verbal but still positive response. “How would you like to ride something faster? And something that spins. There's also something that goes in great loops. There is also a giant contraption called a Ferris Wheel where you can see the land for miles. You could even drive a tiny version of my car at this place I have in mind.”
This sudden non-sequitur caught the attention of the Hunter. “That sounds... dangerous.” The possible danger did not sound like it was any sort of deterrent. “What is this place? What purpose does it serve?”
“It's an Amusement Park. People go there to play and have fun. There are wonderful lights on display and all sorts of delicious food to try. It's perfectly safe so long as you follow the rules.” Alucard did his best to hype the local park. Admittedly he was not the world's best hype-man, but he seemed to be winning over the younger man from his melancholia. “We can go for a drive there. Play in the park. On the way back we'll stop and get a pizza. I think you will really enjoy eating pizza.”
“This sounds interesting.” The Hunter bit the lure. Before pulling, he studied Alucard's face for the catch. “What of my captor? You are concerned she will be out to reclaim me for my blood. I thought you wished to keep here and safe.”
A little thrilled he had won over the Hunter so easily, Alucard continued in an assuring tone. “We will be together just as we are here. The venue should not affect how we will keep each other safe. And you are not a prisoner, Trevor.” As a final push, he added. “Life must go on, right? You wouldn't let a bad experience stop you from living, would you?”
The younger Belmont took another famously long pause before he smiled and agreed. “No, I would never.”
Alucard truly hoped the hunter was telling the truth.
“Then tomorrow evening we'll do just that. It will be fun.” Alucard promised before checking his watch for the time. “You don't mind if I leave you here by the fire with Yoko and Julius inside? I promised to meet another friend to partake in his pranks. You'll keep an eye on them, and they on you while I'm out?”
“Of course.” Trevor smiled, this one earnest. “Life goes on. Go live yours.”
*****
The Warm Time ~ Now ~ Close to Danger
Esteffi is safe. Safe with children.
This one is not safe. They have left Esteffi. They have left the children.
No choice!
Maybe choice.
This one gets hungry often. This one has had a wonderful meal outside. This one does not want to hurt the ones inside. They are Esteffi's.
Esteffi would keep the children safe.
Esteffi always kept her own safe.
This one has been with Esteffi a long time. This one still sees Esteffi as small one. Esteffi is not small now. It does not matter. Esteffi still feels small to this one.
All the ones with Esteffi feel small to this one. To be protected.
This one is not good protector. This one frightens easily. This one has the wisdom to fear. This one has lost so many small ones to big ones.
This one stays with Esteffi because she was it's small one. She is still here. So where else is there to be?
But this one is not with Esteffi now.
This one is hungry.
This one is looking for the wonderful taste it had many darknesses ago.
The smell is easy to follow. The path of the smell does not travel with logic. Looping and looping. Why so much circle? Was the smell bearer looking for this one as well?
That could be dangerous, that.
But the smell bearer was easy to capture. The tasty one wanted to let this one feed on it. It should be easy to tempt again. This one thinks so.
The smell is strong here in the clearing. This one does not like clearings. Or the hard grey paths the loud metal travels on. But the smell is there. So faint. The loud metal must have moved them. Smells are faint like this when loud metal moves them.
Tricky tricky.
Not so tricky for this one. This one smells better than anything. But better to smell and stick to the trees. Follow safely. Hard grey paths and loud metal are about. This one remembers what happens when loud grey metal pounces on animal.
Messy messy.
This one does not like death. This one wants it's meals alive. Dead things do not have life. This one needs life. Follow safely. Always be safe. Big ones about everywhere. Big ones are dangerous. Even for ones like this one. This one has seen many others similar be killed by the big ones. Those others were big too. Some scary. Some ferocious. The big ones always killed them in the end.
Ones like this one were not welcome anywhere.
Except with Esteffi.
The smell is far. This one is not a fast traveller. Maybe when scared. Fear is wisdom. This one is not great hunter. This one can follow another anywhere, find another anywhere. But this one is not suited for hunting. Meals come to it. Meals almost always have come to it willingly. But this one wants that taste. That taste has not been back for many lights. This one is famished for it. So it is now trying to hunt.
Foolish foolish.
But this one thinks it's found the tasty one.
It's hidden itself away in a place full of so many big ones. How does the tasty one survive surrounded by so much danger. How brave. How curious. Do the big ones not know there is a tasty one in their grasp? This one wants to know the tasty one's secrets. This one may be able to stay safer.
The tasty one will not leave the brick cave. It's been staying inside where this one will never go.
Fear is wisdom.
Wisdom is not leaving the trees to peek at the tasty one. Not with so many big ones right next to it's brick cave in their own. So brave, this tasty one. So foolish.
There are even big ones that enter the tasty ones cave. This one hurts for the tasty one. The big ones are inside it's safety. But many darks and lights go, and the tasty one is still alive. How? This one is very curious about the tasty ones's ways. It seems to live with the big ones just fine... but it it not one of them. It is of this one's flesh.
Curious curious.
There is another one in the grass just outside the brick cave. This one would get closer, try to lure it. A big one all by themselves is not too scary. They will come to him, this one that sits in the grass. But then it has fire.
This one does not like fire.
It has lost so many of it's small ones to fire. Too many. It does not go near. No matter. This one is waiting for the tasty one it knows is inside. This other one is not why this one has risked such danger and has left Esteffi.
There now. The tasty one has left the brick cave. It seems to like the one by the fire. The tasty one's smell is strong now. It smells of desire. It does like the big one. The smell has notes in it. Mating notes. This is helpful. If the tasty one already has mating on the mind, it will come to this one easily.
The tasty one is leaving it's safe burrow. It's a night flyer now. This one remembers that some of the tasty one's kind can do that. This one follows the night flyer. It must be fun to change the shape. This one can do many things, but it is always the same shape.
The tasty one is playful. It flits about without a care. It glides and swoops when there is no reason. It is making a grand show of it's flight. How brave. How foolish. If it would be safe, it would know it is being followed by this one. The tasty one would do well to follow this one for many cold times. This one would teach it to be safe. This one does not know how the tasty one survives alongside the big ones, but it suspects some trickery.
Trickery only works with big ones for so long.
Silly silly.
This one follows... safely. It follows the other one to more trees. This one likes trees. But wait. There is another one like the tasty one it follows. This one... smells good. This one smells so good. They are the same. Almost. This one can tell they are a little different. But not much. They look the same. They are pretty. This one likes the ones that are pretty.
But there are two of them now. This one does not like conflict. This one does not like having to divide it's attention. Will it get a chance? Will the pretty ones who smell delicious separate? Just long enough for this one to steal one away?
It wants the one it tasted. But the other one will do well too. So pretty, this new one. They are so pretty. Silver and pretty. White skin and pretty. Choices are hard. Both are like porcelain. This one has seen porcelain before. This one's had small ones play with porcelain. These pretty ones look like the toys it's small ones have played with.
Pretty pretty.
This one now wants them both. This one cannot decide. Whichever one is not wise it will take.
What are the pretty ones doing? This one creeps closer... Not safe. It can't be helped. This one wants to know.
There are small ones.
The pretty ones are laying in wait for these small ones.
This one does not like that. Small ones are small. Small ones must be safe. Pretty skin and pretty hair does not give permission to hurt small ones. This one wants to take a pretty one away now. Alone, the other pretty one may not hunt the smalls.
How?
This one is too late.
Horror horror.
The pretty ones use trickery, smoke and flashes. Always tricks with ones like them. Illusions and games. The small ones are terrified. The pretty ones happy. This one cannot watch. The small ones must be safe. This one cannot keep small ones safe. It has lost so many.
Then the prettiest of the pretty ones is more than terrifying. There are swirling sharps everywhere. Little ones are screaming in fright. This one has seen those sharps before. Like the flames, it has lost so many of it's little ones to sharps like that. Never has this one seen sharps that move like the prettiest pretty one's. Not natural.
Fear fear!
Fear is wisdom.
This one flees, the screams on the air carrying it's wings.
This one no longer wants the prettiest pretty one. This one no longer wants anyone tonight. This one flees into the trees and the dark.
Fear is not much now. But still fear.
This one thinks for a while.
The tasty less pretty one is the one. Esteffi thinks so too. This one is not sure why Esteffi is interested. She does not eat like this one. Does Esteffi think the tasty one is also pretty? This one will share if she thinks so.
Under this moon there is no meal.
No no.
This one will have to wait and try again.
This one is very good at waiting.
And smelling.
And following.
This one is certain it won't have to follow much longer.
This one thinks the less pretty but still pretty tasty one will be coming all on it's own. It just needs to stay safe until it's time. The pretty tasty one is not safe.
The pretty one will learn soon.
Fear is wisdom.
Chapter 26: Of Monsters and Men, Revisted
Summary:
This chapter has some non-consensual sexual activity, please be warned.
Chapter Text
Winter 1479 ~ Wallachia Outskirts
The eve the Demon Castle of Dracula vanished from the human realm since Walter reigned supreme, as if it had never haunted the skies above Wallachia for centuries past, was one Alucard would always remember. At one moment, permeating perpetual auras of malevolence were the undertow in every breath of air, the next it was no more. An unrealized tension in the Dhampyre's heart at last released as he watched the spires fold into themselves from the treetops, and from there fold again into the liminal space between worlds. In the quiet solitude left behind, he understood why he was still in this place. That had to explain it all... Trevor had set out that day months ago to finish the job. Why the Hunter had yet to return after so long of patient waiting by this tree, now so easily explained. Alucard laughed delightedly to himself as he settled back down from bat form to man, his voice echoing along the cool breeze.
So it would be both a reunion and a celebration when his Hunter returned to Wallachia. The Dhampyre's heart swelled with love and pride at the thought. Such a gallant little hero... It was high time the boy took his rest. Alucard was ready to catch him now, and quite eager to show the man just how pleasant falling into his arms would be.
Aware of how easy it was for time to blend together into an indecipherable weave without his human to mark the stitches, the Dhampyre scored the days he remembered to count upon his own flesh, where even one such as he would not forget the meaning. But the tally did seem to be adding up quite numerously now didn't they..? And he knew he had to have missed some score marks here and there, daydreaming and the like. A conflict was brewing as it would be a shame to leave and have Trevor miss him at their waiting spot. He must be close to home now, right?
It really did seem like a long time was passing... The snow appeared to be starting to melt. Hadn't the snow just fallen too? Unsure what to do, Alucard stood and paced the small clearing. It did not take a season to travel from the Castle's former lands to here now that the night hoards had largely abated. It just simply did not. Perhaps Trevor had come by a different route? Perhaps they had missed each other, the Hunter so exhausted from banishing the Castle once and for all he'd taken a shorter path home. Or hitched a ride in the back of one of the various wagons the Dhampyre had hidden from sight of?
Nervously he traded glamours, unable to settle on any of them. A strange man coming through the gates would bring suspicion. A woman would draw too much attention. A child even more so. It's not as if he could just walk into the Wallachian gates and knock on Trevor's door. Could he? The thought bounced around his skull long enough the moon had risen high, and the decision was made for him.
His form shifted back to that of a bat and he took off towards the wall of the village closest to Trevor's windows. Inside was Sypha passing back and forth, a relief to see alive and well since he last checked in on her from afar. However, she seemed to be stricken with an equally nervous state as the Dhampyre. She paced one way with an arm full of clothing, and back the other with a babe. Rustling, shifting and her voice murmuring a string of small curses drifting out into the night sky. He could hear the boys arguing in the petty way only small boys could, about nothing blown up into a huge something. Sypha did not break them up as Alucard had watched Trevor do deftly other nights peering in on their domesticity. Instead Sypha seemed much too preoccupied. With her digging around and packing and with... babies?
Babies?
This gave Alucard a knot in his stomach. Why was she was alone with Trevor's children? There was no Trevor here. Who were those babies in her care as well? He thought it best to roost along the wall instead, and keep an eye on her and this brood under her watch. Trevor would forgive him that.
Did she ever do strange things at strange hours, though. Very strange things. The Mage had almost entirely stopped leaving the home that wasn't for bare necessities as he perched, watching. Alucard noticed the startling lack of openness as she had walked through the town carrying on about her business from before was no more. The townsfolk now skirted her when she was noticed, and she in turn kept her head down and her mouth shut. The little girl who played on the grass across from Trevor's home was pulled inside every time Sypha was seen.
This gave Alucard a deep seated feeling of dread. He knew intimately all those kinds of suspicious gazes. Sypha knew them too. The woman was no fool. He watched her over the span of weeks gather supplies, pack and ready a cart she kept covered with tarp and brush at the back of the home, hidden from prying eyes. Once she traded jewellery for a horse one eve, Alucard knew this was it. The woman was taking the children in her care and leaving. If he did not speak to her now, who would know when he'd see her again. But the village was dangerous for him as much as it had turned out to be for her.
He followed her instead on silent wings along the path outside of town. The Mage was nearly out of the village scope when some patrolling semblance of a village guard stepped onto the direct pathway, clear in their intent to stop and question her. Sypha would fight, Alucard knew. She was as much a warrior as any man, and the scent of grim determination was her perfume. But this would not bode well for her if she did. Burned out witchfire corpses told many tales, and would most certainly seal her fate. She'd be hunted down.
Lucky for them both, Alucard's strength has returned nearer to peak form. A handful of fearful men he could change the minds of easily. His bat form darted between the slowing cart and gathering guard, shifting into his real Dhampyre form to maximize their fear of him. He wore no glamour. His own face would suffice.
“I believe you want to go home to your families, gentlemen. You haven't seen a thing here. You don't know where this woman went. You never saw anything on your patrol tonight. Remember that, and you'll never see me again either. I was just a bad dream.” Admittedly, he thought his Force of Will was stronger than evidence provided as the men hesitated, but the guards did eventually all shuffle by, seeming to take no more notice of Sypha and her flight from the village.
He thought he'd done fairly well to resolve the potential disaster. Sypha it turned out did not share his opinion on the matter.
“Of all the times and places for you to show up.” The diminutive Mage hissed, setting the horse into motion without waiting even a moment to greet him properly. “Get on, I must keep moving before some other idiot or two decides to try his luck against me.”
“Not quite the welcome I was hoping for.” Alucard murmured, but climbed alongside her as the cart blew past so that she could maintain this frantic fleeing pace she'd set.
“Exactly what kind of welcome were you expecting diving in like a night beast to scare off some rabble not worth the wood chips rolling around in their skulls? In the dead of night, no less. After years of playing a ghost. Where have you been, is the only welcome you'll get out of me, Alucard.”
“The kind where you were happy I kept you from having to explain some corpses, at least.” Alucard realized the Mage was taking some liberties with the cart's journey, pulling them off the main road. She wasn't heading towards the next town over, it was now obvious. “Where ever are you going, Sypha?”
“Where have you been, Alucard?” Sypha openly glared at him. “You are three years late, you know that, yes?”
“Really, Sypha. Where are you--”
“Alucard!” The Mage nearly shoved him off the wagon to emphasize her frustration, her sharp voice causing some crying noises from the back of the well packed wagon. “Just great. Thank you for this. Take the reigns.” She ordered, shoving them into his hands to free herself up to climb into the back and sooth a mewling pair of... babies. Not Trevor's boys, but a pair of small golden-haired infants. Trevor's boys were not in the wagon at all. Once settled and cooed at a few more times for good measure, the woman hopped back over and all but tore the horse's reigns from back out of his hands. Eyes firmly ahead, she asked once more in a terse tone. “Where have you been?”
“Grieving.” He replied simply, without any emotion. This admission did however seem to soften Sypha's visage. Only a touch, but still.
“You should have reached out and let Trevor Belmont know.” She huffed. “I would have liked to know you were not dead either. Instead there was nothing. For three years.”
As he could not find a proper excuse that would satisfy her, he simply pressed the Mage again for basic information. “Sypha... where are you going? This isn't a road. Who are these children?”
“You...” The Mage spared him a long bewildered look, ending with a simple shake of her head. “You are so daft, you know that? Here I thought you were the smart one out of you three men. I owe Grant an apology now! I am leaving the village because I am about to be dragged out and burned as a witch. No thank you, Alucard. I will pass on the village invitation to the pyre.”
“Perhaps I am daft...” Alucard offered. “But... why? You helped save those people from Dracula. You returned with Trevor just as much a hero.”
“Not to them! Trevor did that particular deed all by himself! I am just a harlot who tempted a holy man into debauchery and spirited him away after I birthed his bastard devil children.”
Yellow eyes looked back into the wagon at the sleeping babes, studying their peaceful oblivious faces for a small while. Two of them. Just like the boys from Trevor and the little French one's union. The man only had children in pairs, it seemed. And it also seemed like Alucard was quite slow on the uptake... He shook his head placing two and two and two entire babies together and could only stare at the Mage, mouth open and face flushed. She couldn't really be implying what she... but then her deathly serious tone and matching visage confirmed she was. “You slept with my...” He choked, unable to even say the word 'Lover' out loud. “You had his babies, Sypha!?”
“Oh, finally caught up, did you? It's been over three years, you do realize? I've been with him for over three years, helping the man raise his kids and telling him the world was going to get better all while you've been out here doing gods know what.”
“Grieving.” The word was reiterated calmly with much effort, for what else could he do. Responding in anger was not going to add anything to the conversation. That wasn't to say he was not furious. Not in the slightest.
“So was he! So was I! Everything I know and everyone I know is dead. Turns out I was a stone statue for a couple of decades. I was the only statue that cyclops did not smash to pieces. It is the year 1479, Alucard. I do not belong in this year or in this place. I needed his friendship. I wanted it. I wanted yours as well. At least you would know what to say to a person out of their right time in this world. Maybe if you had been here with us, the three of us would have just all slept with each other and gotten over all these mess of emotions. Instead I am waddling around post birthing twins, trying to save my daughters from his stupid village's torches!”
“Just...” Alucard held up his hands in a barter for peace. The information was taking it's time to absorb. “Let's just step back a moment.” That, or his mind just did not want to accept what he was being told.
The Mage gave him a roll of her eyes and a wave of permission to work the situation out.
“I am daft, as you so eloquently put it, so let me see if I have this right.” The Dhampyre grit out. “You have been living with Trevor since we defeated my father. And you have had his children. Now you are being run out of town because Trevor... is missing?”
“Simply put... Yes.”
“He is missing.” Alucard whispered, unease filling the sudden hollowness of his stomach. “Why are you only bringing the children you had with him? What about his sons?”
The question drew outright rage from the Mage, Sypha all but snarling her answer. “Don't you dare show up out of the blue and think you deserve to question my actions. Those boys are little holy prodigies. The Church is all over them day and night. There was no way I was going to be able to take them with me and not have a manhunt. They will be looked after, I am certain of that They are the next Belmont Vampyre Hunters, after all. I will not be shamed by you for doing what I need in order to protect my daughters who were being sized up for the pyres just as I. If you are so concerned about the rightful Belmont Heirs you should have been there years ago to help him with them.” She hissed and continued her tirade. “In fact, there is nothing stopping you from going to get them right now. Go on, if you care so much. You were the one who wanted to marry Trevor Belmont and play house with him. I was only the one who showed up.”
“I'm just trying to get up to speed Sypha. Nothing more.” He stated quietly.
“You absolutely are not just trying to catch up the latest village gossip. Don't even pretend you do not care I am the mother to his children. Trevor is gone, Alucard.” Sypha said simply after a long pause. “He left to check out the Castle because the rot was spreading again. It never went away, even after we did all we did. The Castle is gone but he never came back. Without him, I cannot stay.”
“Then you... Are going to look for him?”
The Mage studied him in silence before she made a gesture towards the back of the wagon. “I have two mouths I need to breast feed every two to four hours. No, I am not looking for him, I am saving our lives.”
“Where are you going then, Sypha? You can't live in a wagon during a Romanian winter.”
“Do you really care, I wonder?” The Mage pulled her cloak more tightly around her and bit her lip before answering. “The Balijhet mountains, Alucard. There is a gathering for people like me there. People like you, as well. I suppose you are more than welcome to come. There my daughters will be safe, even if they grow up with arcane powers like my own. It's a village for outcasts just like us.”
A village for outcasts like a Dhampyre? Is there really such a place? “Does... Trevor know about it? If he wanted to find you?”
Sypha shook her head solemnly. “No one knows about it who isn't like us, Alucard. That's why it is safe. Our kind cannot trust humans. Not yet.”
“You are human, Sypha.” Alucard replied automatically. “I am human too.”
The Mage's open hostility drained away from her features as she responded in a defeated, resigned tone. “We are not human enough, Alucard.”
“Trevor said I was human enough. He clearly thought you were too.”
“Trevor Belmont is not here, Alucard.” The Mage's voice was now dripping with pity. She could see her narrative vastly differed from the one Trevor had made the fool Dhampyre to believe. “You're a monster, just like I am. That's just the facts, so far as any other person who isn't named Trevor Christopher Belmont is concerned.”
Alucard did not like how much the truth hurt. He chose to dance around the subject instead, asking, “So if Trevor came back tomorrow... he would not be able to find you or his new daughters.”
“I... don't believe he is coming back tomorrow. I placed a token in his coat... Enchanted. I sewed it into the breast pocket. I could feel it when he left if I use a scrying glass. I do not feel that token any more.” Sypha stated plainly. “I told him time and time again that it was not safe to be in Wallachia. Eventually they were going to turn on us. An unwed couple in a home. Me, a stranger from outside, and he, a fearsome demon killer... Might as well be the devil he hunts right? What could a man who hunts demons do to a regular church going man, imagine? I bet they shiver at the thought. Trevor agreed with me every debate and yet still, every time he'd say just a little longer. We can wait a little bit longer. I always wondered about that adamant insistence. Why longer? What for? Like a damned fool myself, I always wondered. Now I know.” She sighed. “Of course, it was so obvious.”
Alucard looked at her with confusion and she shook her head with another sigh.
“You were the reason why, you idiot. He never left because Wallachia is the last place he knew that you knew where to find him.” With a shrug she returned her gaze to the horse plotting it's path dutifully ahead. “You should have been here.”
“When did you start sleeping with him, Sypha?” Alucard at last asked, after a long silence had fallen between them.
“That's what you're going to focus on? For a demon, you are such a man about certain things.” The Mage did not even give him the dignity of looking in his direction as she dismissed the question.
Unable to keep the anger he'd been stifling from the very start from his own voice he demanded once more. “When did you decide to fuck my Hunter, Sypha? Simple question.”
“Honestly, Alucard.” The Mage still denied him the dignity of eye contact. “That is none of your business. It will never be your business what occurred, or how often, between your Hunter and my bedsheets. But I can already tell that since you're not going to let it go, I'd say it was about...” she looked back at her sleeping girls and gave him a sarcastic smile. “I want to say thirteen months ago.”
“Right.”
“He was extremely eager to please too.” The Mage overshared with impudence. “I think he was missing you with every fibre of his being. I didn't even think for a moment he had some of those tricks of his in him. He came across as such a virginal maiden. I guess it goes to show you, you can't judge a whore by the purity of their vestal gown.”
“Okay.” The Dhampyre said more forcefully, hoping to stop her there. She was correct. This was none of his business. Just his regret.
“No, it's not okay.” The Mage spat, fired up again. “I was having a decent life for once in my pitiful one. He was so kind to me, Alucard. He cared about me. He was appreciative when I did things for him. He never took me for granted. He was so... elated... when I told him I was pregnant. While I was so afraid when I realized I was with child, his reaction made me look forward to being a mother. I thought for a moment that this was going to be our life. Don't you see? Look at them. Look at how precious they are...” She gestured again to the sleeping babes. So innocent. So sweet. So unaware of the pain and grief around them. “Nothing as precious as them could ever have come from me alone, but now I am left with them to keep safe. So I will. They are my daughters.”
“It's...okay.” Alucard reiterated, this time with compassion. The Mage seemed to respond to his apology, flashing him a brief, broken smile.
“I am not blind. I knew he had his heart set on you, and I thought one day for sure you would walk through that door and sweep him away. I was a placeholder for you... I know. I don't think Trevor even knew that... but I know I was. I could see the way he looked when you were mentioned, or when he caressed the pages of the Bestiary entry he made of you. You had him completely beholden to you, Alucard.” Sypha bit back what seemed to be a sob, before her features smoothed out through sheer force of will. “Still... I was a happy placeholder.”
“I wish I had come back sooner.” What else could he say?
“Me too.”
The wagon rattled along in silence for quite some time. The witching hour was coming upon them, that strange point in the night beings like the Mage and Dhampyre could feel in their bones. Surely children begot from a witch could too, as the girls behind began to stir. Sypha gave up the reigns wordlessly and crawled in back to feed her children and change their swaddling.
As she hummed a little Spanish tune and nursed her little ones, the Mage asked candidly. “Since we're all in each others business now... When exactly did you start sleeping him? I am curious how long it took him to fall for you. Grant thought in Fetra while you were minding him. I am of the opinion it happened on the road after he saved your life. It was quite romantic and dashing a show.”
Alucard took a moment to guide the horse around some more dodgy rough landscape and towards the correct fork in the road leading to the mountains before answering. “If you truly want to know, fair is fair. I did ask you the same.” The Dhampyre waited for her to change her mind, but she did not, so he obliged her curiosity. “It was in that very first village we found. Yomi, I believe it was called. After we barely escaped the underwater city I was in quite terrible shape if you recall. Trevor... He let me feed on him... He trusted me to take what I needed to survive and no more.” For just a moment, a heat touched Alucard's face as he remembered how the Hunter had sighed and pressed into his body. The little breathy moans he made... Trevor's beautiful blue eyes, so unique, lidded in a pleasure only Alucard could supply. “I suppose our not so innocent Trevor Belmont liked the act more than he thought he would.”
Strangely, Sypha only laughed. She did not seem too upset by the admission. “So basically you were all over each other our entire journey, then, yes? And all those times you slipped just outside our camp along with him? Just to fool around in the woods?”
“To put it simply. Yes.”
“Well then I understand why you are so upset with me. But it just happened one day, between he and I. And it kept happening right until he up and left. It probably would have... continued happening barring you showing up on the front door... Had he come back. I wouldn't have told him no once it started.”
“I am not upset with you, Sypha.” He stated, and meant it. What really was there to be upset about? He had been gone, as she said, for three years. For humans that was a long time. Long enough for them to move on with their lives. “It happened more or less the same between he and I. And just like in your case, it kept happening because he was so... kind to me. I wasn't a monster to him. I was a man... His man, I guess.” Another flash of heat touched his visage but he shook his head until the feeling dissipated. “I believe I just... wanted honesty. To know the truth of my inaction. I am upset with my failure to act, if anything. Before we parted I made him a promise and I've yet to keep it. If I can't keep that promise I do not know what will become of me, Sypha.”
“So that is why you are here tonight? To keep your promises, yes?” Sypha's shoulders shook with a mirthless chuckle. “I'm sorry you've arrived so late. I must wonder what you would have done had you walked in Trevor's front door and saw him with our babies. What would your promise keeping in that scenario entail?”
“I would have congratulated you, of course.” The Dhampyre replied. “Then we would have sit down to a nice little table side discussion about the benefits of sharing, I suppose. You mentioned as much earlier.”
“Just like that, hmm?”
“Yes. I adore you, Sypha. You and I stood side by side and back to back in battle more than either of our companions. I would not rob you of the father of your children. I will in due time find only adoration for those little ones in your arms, as well. They are of you and Trevor, so they are as safe with me as you know you are. There can be no other choice but to love them.”
“Say it, then.” Sypha challenged.
Alucard did not even have to ask to know what she meant. He spared her a glance with a slight smile, but did not stare too long at the nursing mother. “Congratulations on the birth of your daughters, Sypha Belnades. They look just like you.”
The Mage made a pleased victorious noise. “I did not too poor a job, if I may say so. It's a shame they have his eyes, the both of them. My bloodline almost won out completely.” Her pride was clear, as it should be. She did have beautiful little babies.
“A shame, indeed.” Alucard surrendered to the moment, laughing back. “All right, fair Mother, so if we are able to trade this horse out for a fresh animal in the next village or farm, we can probably keep travelling another day without stopping. I am assuming that was your plan, in between two to four hour feedings.”
“You are coming with me?” She said, incredulously, as if she hadn't believed he would take her up on the earlier offer. “What about Trevor?”
“He'll want to know for certain that you are safe, as would I. Out of the pair of you, I believe you are my friend most in need at this time, Sypha. This place for people like you and I, it is safe? You are confident of this?” The Mage nodded. “Then once you're there I'll go look for him. There are only so many paths between where the Castle lay and Wallachia. He has to be along one of them. Perhaps he just got dragged into some local trifle and stayed to help out.”
“Then what?”
It was obvious what she was getting at. She truly did not believe he was just going to accept that the three of them were now intertwined, and that he was going to be fine with that. “Then I will bring him to you and his new babies. He hasn't seen them yet, given the timing. After that, we will have that table side chat about how we three adults will come to an arrangement. As well, you'll have to permit me a moment to scold of our dear Hunter about some of the disadvantages of sticking his cock in more than one person at a time.”
“It's been three years, in his defence.” Sypha supplied.
Alucard waved the excuse away. “That was still my cock. Didn't you see my name on it? For that matter, didn't he see my name on it?”
The Mage's ensuing cackle was just as it had been three years before, and Alucard kind of felt relieved to hear the familiar sound plucked from memory. It moved him closer to a semblance of normal. The new normal his life could be. “I guess I should have looked a little closer. My apologies. It was an all right piece of equipment. You should be proud to have your name on it.” Babies settling back down, the Mage climbed back over the Wagon again to catch his gaze, still tucking and shifting her dress and cloak around to cover her breasts, little care for what he saw. “You are taking this remarkably well, yes? I was expecting to have to fight you to the death. Desire demons don't usually like to share their toys.”
“If it was anyone but you, Sypha...” He breathed in deeply, exhaling more slowly. “Let's just say you are the only person I would be okay with in this situation. I know you. I know you love him too. He deserves to be loved, and so do you.”
“So do you.” She offered, quietly.
“Am I not? I feel loved.” He grinned. “Looks like I will have a large family soon. Four kids, a wife, a husband. We can get a dog or two.”
“Just like that. You're my joint husband now?” Sypha laughed. “You think he would go for that? The little pure flower that he is?”
“I am very persuasive, Sypha. I had him moaning my name in less than a month's travel. He'll be delighted by the time I am done asking him.”
“Well, if you say so, then all right.” The Mage agreed. “I can think of worse men to be tied down to.”
“But you can think of better, yes?” Alucard supplanted and shook his head. “I missed you and your backhanded compliments, Sypha. This is going to be a fun marriage, I can tell.”
“Let's start by getting to safety.” The Mage agreed, taking back the reigns. "Husband number two."
"At least let me Husband number one?"
Sypha did not dignify that request with a response.
*****
Autumn 1480 ~ Lost Commune, Balijhet Mountains
Hidden away from prying eyes and malicious intent, the Commune had become not only a refuge, but the first place that gave Alucard the same sense of belonging and of a home as he had in Lupu. Astonishingly, the demons, man beasts, mages, and other open minded individuals making up the secret village's inhabitants did so coexist in a way Alucard had never thought possible. There were no lines drawn in the sand between the demons. No need to eat or be eaten. The Harpy next to the home Sypha now resided in did not care he was a Dhampyre that could easily kill her in a fair fight. She cared only that he refrain from cutting through her back garden in his bat form on his way to visit Sypha's. She had no fear of him to tell him so, either. There were no other Dhampyre in the commune either, but that did not matter. He was welcomed. He was home. The Matriarch of the commune saw to it that there were more options to the villagers here to live and settle their disputes than the cruel animalitsic laws of yore.
After enough time spent in her presence, he was convinced the Matriarch was exactly the person he needed to trust with his quest. So far there had been no success in locating Trevor Belmont. He was unused to asking for help, and less so to receiving it, yet the old woman had welcomed him into her home to plead his case, listening intently to his every word. When he was done, she considered him with kindness in her features.
“Looking for a Belmont or one of their clans is very dangerous work, you are aware?” The Matriarch's low voice crackled, like dried leaves on the wind. “This commune exists so that we may live our lives without fear of the hunters.”
“You understand why I seek this particular one, though?”
“A child should know their father, yes... Two of them and a young mother... It does ache to think of our dear Sypha without the help of the one who put her in this position.” The Matriarch intoned. “This boy hunter has more than tempted his own fate, siring witches and bedding down with demons. How are you certain he has not been hanged or put to the torch?”
“Great Mother, please.” Alucard beseech. “I was told you know of one who can help me. An ancient demon who is particularly good at finding those of the Belmont bloodline.”
“Dhampyre, the one you are asking after is more dangerous than any hunter I've met. He will eat you alive if you let him. You are exactly the kind of prey he delights in the most.” The Matriarch reached slightly for her teacup, and Alucard, like everyone else in the commune, found himself fetching her desire instinctively. “Thank you, Dhampyre. You are so welcome here with us. Why not stay and continue the beautiful work you've done building us up?”
“Great Mother, that is my plan. I love it here and what you've done for us. But I need him with me. Sypha deserves the father of her children to put in some work raising his own. I have looked everywhere I can think and we still do not know what has happened. This Vampyre... I was told he can find any Belmont.”
“You are a fool. Perhaps this is your fate.” The Matriarch's sigh of surrender burgeoned Alucard's heart with hope. “You are looking for a Vampyre by the name of Joachim Armster. He does well to hide in plain sight amongst the humans. Last he exchanged news with me, he informed that he was on his way to Vienna.”
“Austria is not so far away. Do you think I will find him there still? I can travel quite swiftly alone.”
“This Vampyre does quite the opposite. He enjoys his travel and is in no hurry that I have ever seen. I imagine you may find him there still. I want you to be safe, Dhampyre, so I will give you something of mine to share with him. Perhaps he will be less... vicious with you, if you have this in your possession.”
Here the Matriarch busied herself patting down the many pouches sewn into her robe, searching until she procured a small clasped hand mirror made out of some prismatic shell. This was the item she pressed into his hands and only let go when he closed them around it.
“This is an echo mirror. You will not be able to use it to it's full capacity with your current talents without some training, but it will echo back to you the sound of the one Joachim keeps with just a bit of magic on your end. You should be able to track him down by following the echo. It of course goes without saying that he will hear your echo too. You will not be a surprise guest.”
“Thank you, Great Mother. Truly.” Alucard grinned, far too excited at this new avenue of hope to understand the Great Mother's warning.
“Thank me by returning alive, Dhampyre. I would like to see you home. Perhaps, if possible, persuade my grandson to visit home as well.”
*****
Spring 1481 ~ Secluded cabin on the far outskirts of Vienna
Finally.
After walking across the whole of Austria and back again, the magickal echo in his palm confirmed without doubt that this secretive cabin in the woods was where he would find the owner of the other mirror... The owner hopefully being the one he had been searching for all this time. The cabin itself was not derelict, but aged. Constructed many moons ago, and repairs seemed carried out only to keep it standing and nothing more. Inside lights flickered, but smoke did not rise from the cabin. So candlelight only, Alucard surmised. That was not quite normal for humans this time of year. The chill of Winter had not yet been chased fully away by the lengthening days.
He approached with caution, in a misty form that crushed neither leaf, snow nor stick. Listening for any signs of life within the cabin walls. Re-materializing by the door, he could hear the low singing of a child. Repetitive and almost trance like. It was an unnatural sound, which raised his hackles and drew sharp his defensive instinct. A woman's sighing sing-song voice could also be heard, mindless and nonsensical, over the low voice of a man. The man sounded plaintive... Desperate. There was no pain in the voice, and from where he stood, he smelled no fear or blood.
Alucard stood straight up, hesitant to intervene, but unsure what else he could do. The echo from his mirror had come from inside... But he did not think it very wise to get between a Vampyre and his meal. The child's singing drew him to place his hand on the door. Perhaps his intrusion could at least save the child. That was worth the risk, right?
Noble intention or not, the Dhampyre never actually got the chance to make the altruistic choice. With a terrible crash, the door tore open pulling him along with it, the bric-a-brac on the shelf behind the entrance clattering across the dwelling from the force. He was greeted to quite the scene once inside. Off side in a small bedroom sat the young girl who indeed was in a trance of sorts, singing hymns Alucard was unfamiliar with in a language he could only assume was German, or Germanic. Directly in the middle room, looking like a debauched King, was without question the demon Alucard had searched all of Austria to meet.
A Vampyre reclined in the most prominent chair with a leg up on a footrest. His skin shades paler than even Alucard's father's had been, and his hair and eyes a silver of indistinguishable shade from one another. Behind him was the woman whose voice he had heard chattering. She stood also in a trance, babbling platitudes incoherently as she combed the Vampyre's hair with her fingers and caressed his shoulders. Finally, between the Vampyre's splayed thighs was the man he'd heard, and yes, he was still begging the Vampyre but not for the reasons Alucard had first assumed. The Dhampyre could only stare rather dumbstruck for a moment at the display of petting and moaning the man was putting on, realization slowly dawning on just what exactly he had interrupted.
“I have no issue waiting outside until you are done.” Alucard stated to no one in particular, turning his gaze to the side so that he was not looking at anything he did not need to see. Just in time too, as it seemed the Vampyre, growing indifferent, wordlessly acquiesced to the pleas between his thighs, allowing the man to begin unlacing what the desperate human desired.
“Leaving so soon, and after you have followed me all across Austria too? One look at me in the flesh and you are now so shy?” The Vampyre's liquid voice submerged his better senses, cloyingly banishing any form of logic the Dhampyre ever possessed. The Force of Will was absolute. A Vampyric power to rival perhaps even Dracula.
Still, perhaps in part due to his lineage, it was possible for Alucard to keep a semblance of his awareness. On some distant level in the mind of the Dhampyre that had existed before the Vampyre had sung his siren song, Alucard realized that for all the care and preparation his father had spared teaching him to survive... The Master of the Castle had never once placed him in front of another full blooded, fully up to form Vampyre. His father had, in all his lessons, never taught Alucard how to survive against another being just like Dracula. One like this terrifying creature before him right now. Maybe Dracula had never wanted Alucard to be able to defend himself against his own Father. Who could say what the great demon's intentions had been at this stage? And it did not matter what the answer was, either. Not where he found himself in this very moment, looking into the silver eyes reflecting what was quite possibly his own demise.
Gaps in his knowledge or training not withstanding, Alucard knew better than to show fear, the cardinal sin to display before a hungry predator, but lacked the talent to keep the scent of it to himself. His father had never taught him to mask his emotions, and now... It was all over all ready. Ever growing trembles betray his unease in sharp juxtaposition to the seemingly relaxed Vampyre. His knowledge on how the Vampyre would perceive him in such a state, only serving to ramp up the fear. Dismayed, Alucard could only admit his cards were played before he had even sat at the table. It was looking to be a losing hand.
“When you are done. I did not come here to meddle in your affairs.” It was a weak deflect, an even weaker plea for mercy. Long gone was the altruistic desire to save the child in the other room. He was afraid he was not going to even be able to save himself from this miscalculation.
The same ghostly force that had pulled the door open along with him blew it back into place with a terribly final click. Alucard felt helpless. The aura in the room shut off from the rest of the world nearly choked him. The Vampyre was studying him intently, paying no mind to the head bobbing about it's task and moaning just below his gaze.
“Now see... that is not the truth, is it. That old witch seems to have made you my affair, by way of gifting you my mirror. You know I have to wonder what she sent you here for.” The Vampyre hummed thoughtfully and shrugged a shoulder, as if finding no satisfactory answer. “Let's see what I have here then.” Liquid voice swam through the Dhampyre's ears and into his very being. “Come.”
His feet obeyed the command, much to his continuing dismay. Each step sent his mind reeling, but his body trembled with an anticipation that had nothing to do with the fear of dancing with this incarnation of Death. As if he might on some deep down level, obscured from common sense and reason, actually want to go to the beckoning ancient Moroi. To please and obey him. Alucard's will, wholly perverted.
“I was not sent by the Great Mother.” He corrected in a hushed voice. The loudest he could muster with the reverberation of that silver tongue still caressing his eardrums. “I came to ask a favour of you.”
“I do no favours for strangers.” The Vampyre cut him off. Unlike the the warm bathing of his previous tone, the voice denying Alucard was ice in his veins. “Know me, and I may listen.”
This was perhaps his last chance to escape. To beg pardon for his rude intrusion and flee while this enigmatically powerful monster was occupied with the three already in his cabin. But Alucard was just as desperate if not more than the moaning man slurping between the Vampyre's splayed legs. Impossibly foolish, he tried again. “I need to find a Belmont, and you are the one who hunts that clan. The Hunter of Hunters, right?”
“The youth of today simply do not listen.” The Vampyre mused, only partially concealed within the mirth was a knife's edge. “I told you I do not bargain with strangers, Stranger. If you want to talk then we will have to become acquainted.” Here the Vampyre laughed outright. A threatening ring across the increasingly shrinking cabin room. “Most do not survive such a meeting, little demon. Let's see how you fair.”
Alucard couldn't help letting out a yelp as some force beyond his ability to sense pulled him down to straddle one of the Vampyre's shapely thighs, before he froze in that position. Feeling the outside of the Vampyre's clothed leg, sterling buttons and details along the hemming pressing into the inside of his thighs pressing home just how real and deadly a situation it was. The creature's hands were on his waist, roaming his sides, back and stomach through a too thin shirt, making him wish retroactively that he had reached for the sweater the morn he'd left the Commune. His eyes darted briefly to the now displaced human, backing up to watch jealously as their Vampyre desire instead play with the newest prey. If only the human could take back his place, for Alucard did not want any part in playing this Vampyre's prey. The tremble in his body grew more obvious, and he hated that the Vampyre cooed at him affectionately for his display of fear.
“You act like you have no idea how demons of our ilk get to know one another. I would guess newly turned, but you smell genuine. You got some small spark in you as well, I can tell.” The Vampyre continued to assess him like a butcher choosing the best cut. “This is lovely.” He purred, playing with the soft curls of Alucard's hair. “You are of a fine pedigree, certainly.” Roaming hands moved to his thighs before slowly feeling their way back up, ending with the creature cupping the sides of his face with a deadly look in his silver eyes.
Here, Alucard was foolish again. Impulsively foolish. With no chance but to appease the demon left to him if he hoped to make it out of this cabin alive, his flailing ego at being the prey in his captors hands had him instead snarling at the heavy petting, shaking his head violently enough to throw the thumb brushing his lips to the side. The act of defiance only served to excite the Vampyre more, ultimately accomplishing nothing. The Dhampyre was still at the absolute mercy of a monster.
“What are those in your mouth, little demon? Such tiny fangs.” The Vampyre cooed again, appallingly going so far as to reach out and pinch one between his fingers and give a little shake that his head had no choice but to wriggle with the motion. “What ever are you going to do with those?” The dismissal forced a flush to Alucard's face that the Vampyre took great delight in. “Oh look here. You even have little miniature claws too. This is quite adorable.” He both mocked and discarded Alucard's uselessly limp clawed hands in the same fashion, leaving the Dhampyre red with shame and a childhood's worth of self-doubt and self-hatred brought to the surface, only worse. The taunts were never felt so harshly when out of the mouth of a harpy chick of beastman pup. This ancient monster's dismissal cut so deep. “Perplexing. You smell genuine, but what even are you with these little kitty claws and teeth?”
If this is how I am going to die, being mocked and derided, then just give me a swift death already.
“Ohhh...” The Vampyre's eyes lit up, looking at him with a renewed sense of interest. “Of course... I've never seen one of you grown up. You usually get eaten while you are still tiny. Now that is a fascinating turn of events. What a rare specimen that's climbed into my lap.”
When Alucard gave the menacing creature a confused look, it grinned back at him wolfishly.
“Dhampyre.”
“I am.” He admitted in a small voice, unsure whether the revelation was going to help or hinder the situation. “I didn't crawl into your lap either; You made me.”
The Vampyre waved off his comment just as he had dismissed Alucard's earlier useless angry outburst “All grown up it seems you look genuine, and smell so too. The feel of you is very human, however.” The Vampyre observed with another full body molestation. “You are terribly emotional like a human too. Look how you are behaving right now. Desire demons touch to know, Kitten. I am getting to know a great deal about you, and you are rapidly losing your chance to learn anything about me.”
Stupid or not, Alucard spoke on instinct, without any forethought for strategy. He simply did not have it in him, caught by this Monster's gaze and under it's Force of Will. “Then I am no longer a stranger, I take it?”
This drew a great laugh from the Vampyre before him and he found himself suddenly back on his feet. Alucard barely noticed the forgotten man crawl back to his place as the dazed woman stepped out from behind the Vampyre's chair, halting at his side. “This one knows the way home for the child in the other room. I am not here for either of them, and I care not of their fates. See them home, or not. Devour them, or not. I do not care one whit which way your desires fall. But when you are done, Kitten, you will come back here without delay. Or I will be forced to come and find you. We will continue growing acquainted upon your return.”
Threat given, Alucard found himself walking the woman and girl home at a nervously slow pace, drawing out the time before he had no choice but to submit to that incredible Force of Will once more. There was no use in running, in casting the echo mirror aside or not. This was the Hunter of Hunters whispered about in demon circles. Alucard was no predator it had turned out. Yet, he was still alive. The very novelty of his being Dhampyre having staved off being devoured so far. He feared more what staying alive would mean with each passing minute. The Vampyre wanting him alive to study... to touch, felt strange and perplexingly flattering. As strange as it did that in a baffling way, he also wanted to touch the frightening Vampyre. Not in any sexual manor he could decipher, but the urge to place his hands on the powerful demon and know it inside and out disturbed as much as it confused him. Alucard had no frame of reference for these inhuman desires. His father... had never told him what to do or how to act in such a predicament. His father... Well, Dracula had taught him to never be at another's mercy to begin with. So much for that lesson.
Too soon he found himself back at the cabin door, waiting for the unseen force to pull him inside. When it did not, he realized the creature was testing him. To do as he was asked to the letter and return to it's side dutifully. As a compliant little pet. He was going to have to subject himself to it's whims until it was satisfied... if it could even be satisfied. With a shaky breath he stepped inside and closed the door to freedom all of his own volition.
The man from earlier was stripped bare and semi conscious upon the bed in the other room. Bite marks marred his flesh in both the usual and more intimate places. He was alive, however, and seemed fairly satisfied by the dreamy noises he was making. Alucard was not sure what that meant for him.
The Monster was still where he was first found, sprawled across the chair in the middle of the main room, only now a leg thrown over one of the armrests, smoking from a pipe a pungent mixture whose smoke had his head clouded before the Vampyre's overwhelming Force of Will had even the chance to take effect. His trousers were also still... unlaced, Alucard also could not help by take note of, as was most of his shirt beneath the open coat. The Vampyre certainly did not seem to care too much about being partially exposed. Other than that, there was no sign the creature had savaged the man in the other room. Not a hair out of place.
“While I was fairly certain you were going to come back to me, Kitten, it is very pleasing that you did not make me have to come get you. That could have been a touch messy.”
Saving them both the time, Alucard closed the distance and waited for whatever was to come next. This act of submissiveness drew a purr from the Vampyre. He slid back enough in his chair to make room for the Dhampyre to half-perch, the leg drawn over the armrest sufficing as a backrest for the terrified but resigned Dhampyre. Here they were still for a measurable amount of time. The creature studied him, puffing on it's pipe thoughtfully. The smoke, Alucard was coming to realize, was a mind altering substance.
“Do you truly have no idea what to do in a meeting of two Desire demons?” The Vampyre asked, tapping the mouthpiece of his pipe against his lips before setting it upon the table. The cloying smoke still filled the room from it's resting place. “You will never learn anything meeting me as your human half.”
“I... do not understand.” The admittance did not elicit more mockery, to Alucard's surprise.
“Hmm. You have too many human reservations, that is why. How are you so grown yet so young, I do wonder. How could you have you survived so long without being devoured, Kitten? You must know how delectable a meal you'd make?”
“I am not a kitten.” Further adding to the shame of this encounter, not even his defiance had any bite. What he sounded like was what he was. A petulant child. “I have a name. Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş.”
Here the Vampyre produced a long knowing, if bemused sound. “There we are. That explains it all now, doesn't it? Daddy Dracula has been your keeper. I had heard he not only sired but pampered a halfbreed stripling, but I never saw hair nor hide of you. It must be said, he raised a rather large spawn. He must have loved you dearly. Pity he is dead, I hear.”
“He is dead, yes.” Alucard stated out loud for the first time in years. It still cut, even now.
“Kitten... Kitten... Kitten...” The pet name seemed like it was here to stay. So were the Vampyre's hands, as they had returned to caressing and gripping at his body, even pulling him near on top of the reclining Monster. “If you tell me you have come sniffing after my trail so that I will take care of you in his stead, I am really not sure how I am going to react.”
“Perish the thought, for that's not why I am here.” The Dhampyre shifted in the Vampyre's grip, but as expected could not squirm out of it. “I was told Joachim Armster was the Vampyre to seek if I wanted to hunt down a Belmont. I am looking for the Belmont who slew my father. You are Joachim, it seems.”
“I am. You found me, Kitten.”
At least he was correct. At least there was that, in this whole bungle. “Then I only need convince you to help me.”
“I do no favours for strangers, Kitten. You've had your chance to know me and you've failed to do so.”
Why bloody not just go for it? Alucard thought, throwing all common sense to the wind. He was still alive, after all, and this mad monster seemed to be quite taken with him for whatever reason. Why not follow the avenue open to him? “We are not strangers anymore now, are we? I am your... Kitten. And while I am reluctant to even imagine what goods and services you accept as payment for yours, I will pay your price.”
This drew another sharp laugh from the Vampyre, one that actually made him sit up and take notice. In this new position, Alucard was pretty much in the other demon's lap. There was no other way to put it. They were locked in a loveless embrace, the creatures arms completely encircling him, and he politely placing his palms against the back of the chair for lack of anywhere else to place them that did not belong to this Joachim.
“I hate to inform you, Kitten, that I am not for sale either.”
“Then how do I ask you for a favour in a manner you will entertain, Joachim? I am all ears.”
“Oh, Kitten....” The Vampyre sighed, this time sounding a little disappointed, which caused Alucard's blood to run cold. “I have been telling you and showing you all along and yet you fail to pay attention. On top of that, I think you need a little lesson in Demon Hierarchy and etiquette, as you seem to think my goodwill and tolerance is permission to run your mouth. Dracula spared the rod a lot, I see. You are quite a spoiled child.”
“What do you mean? You haven't shown me anything?” Alucard had time to ask before being yanked back and turned around with no effort on the Vampyre's part. He found himself facing the door, his back pressed against the body behind him, wrists seized and held to his sides. He means to bite me. Was the first fear to cross his mind. He had never been fed upon by another Vampyre. Never even had his energy been drained by an incubi nor succubi or the like. But the bite never came, and the fear of the unknown grew ever greater.
“Who said I was done with you, you willing little cocksucker?” The Vampyre called out loud enough to be heard in the adjoining room. “You ruined my whole night being so eager. I meant to ruin you, not unleash your greatest fantasy. It wasn't even good for me, chattel.” Then softer so that only Alucard could hear, he added. “Seriously, the livestock may wish to pretend it was my Force of Will for the rest of his life, but this was all him, and I stand by my strong opinion that you shouldn't fuck your food. It was vile.”
“Fuck your food..? Wait. Wh-why do you need the human..?” Alucard hedged, looking away from the nude clawed-at flesh of the figure just stepping into the candlelight. No amount of refusing to look at the man stopped the human from kneeling between his legs this time, deft hands going to work finding the clasps of his own garments. “No.” He pleaded. “No, make him stop touching me.”
“I am not making him do anything, that is my point! He has completely ruined the whole purpose of being here.” The Vampyre spat. “You want him to stop, you make him.”
With urgency, he gathered his Will, swelling with it even... But he could not make the pliable willing human bend to his wish. What am I doing wrong? This should be a simple thing for one such as he. His Vampyric talents encompassed just such a task. It was a talent Alucard excelled at, even! He'd forced humans less willing to do much more that keep their lips off his manhood, so why then was he so powerless to stop this violation? He tried to move away, but could not. His legs would not close on their own, nor would his arms raise to push the offending act away. It seemed in no time at all he could not even look away from the assault, his head would not turn. His eyes would not close. Mind, body and aura all pinned in place and powerless to stop this unwanted act. It was the Vampyre's Force of Will preventing him, he was almost certain of. As it filled the cabin, there was no room for his weaker own.
The Vampyre's hands came into his purview, held out so that he could register that in spite of being rooted to place, he was not even being held down. I don't want this. His mind cried out over and over. Not even his voice could form the plea to stop this. Shame coloured his feature as his body responded to the mechanical stimulation from the human below. Am I betraying Trevor because of this? That uncertainty stabbed at his heart.
“You cannot stop him.” It was not a question, the Vampyre was asking, but a statement made with certainty. “This is your first lesson in Demon Hierarchy, and the perfect situation with which to figure out what you need to do so you can know me as only Desire demons can. As you seem completely bereft of any knowledge about the interactions of your own kind, I will help you to see and learn this lesson well, Kitten. Look.” He commanded, and Alucard obeyed.
Every space but the one Alucard occupied, including that of the human molesting him shimmered, ghostly tendrils coiling about the cabin. They pressed against, inside, and around every item, living or inanimate. It confirmed his suspicion. Of course a lowly weak Dhampyre could not exercise his Will here, it was painfully understood. He was surrounded by the Vampyre's. Both human and demi-demon were at this greater one's mercy. How had Alucard not felt this complete crushing Force around him before? Had he known... Had he just known such a deadly demon could exist, he'd have run from the cabin on sight.
Although the Vampyre did not need the use of his hands to hold the Dhampyre, he returned them to their toying playful caresses as he continued to hammer the lesson of futility home. “I am everything for you right now, Kitten. Each one of your current little pants and moans are by my permission. You were never in any position to seek favours or barter, you simply amused me with your brazenness and drew my curiosity with the very nature of your pedigree. You look good, I will admit that much. Props to your father for breeding well.” The ensuing laugh was shallow, almost mournful. “Looking good is all you have demonstrated. I gave you a chance to know me as only a Desire demon could, and even forced you into a position where the only action you have is the correct one, but you still seem to be too human to arrive at the correct answer. Pity, as I am in a receptive mood.”
“I don't know what you mean by that.” He gasped out, trying to keep those 'permissible pants and moans' he was graciously allowed under control.
“That is what I am telling you, Kitten. It grieves me to say that I do not believe this is going to work out between you and I. For all the proper look and smell, tiny teeth and claws aside, you are just too human to connect. A real Desire demon would know that only humans have to ask. Perhaps I should just eat you and end this misery. Or would you like me to let the human finish the job first? My receptiveness could allow for the mercy of letting you go out on a wave of pleasure.”
“If you are going to kill me and I am permitted a dying request, I just want to know why. I've never sought out another demon before. I don't know what you want from me. I'm sorry I don't understand how to be a Desire demon, but it is not like anyone has ever bothered to show me how! I am a halfbreed, I get it. For once,in this miserable life I just wish someone would tell me exactly what is so offensive about being myself. So would you care to explain, before you end my evidently repulsive existence?”
Alucard did not know what he was expecting after his presumably final tirade. He only knew years of being an outcast from either side of his lineage was not how he wanted to go out, that much was a fact. The humans had more than beaten into him what they found wrong. It would at least give him an iota of peace finally knowing exactly why he never could measure up to his demonkind kin even as he lived and died as half of them. Alucard did not expect a reply, but an agonizing and drawn out death. This Joachim seemed the type to play with his food.
Instead he found himself being stood up, the human falling away and promptly forgotten. The Vampyre turned him once he was on his feet, and some distant part of him took the smallest satisfaction in realizing at the very least, he was taller than the one who seemed keen to end his life. The Vampyre waited before him a moment, and sighed in that disappointed fashion when whatever Alucard was expected to do was not done. The demon took one of his hands and held his palm to Joachim's chest. With the spare, he mirrored the action, splaying his fingers against Alucard.
“There is no point to giving a student the answer, in my opinion. I thought I had provided you the perfect scenario to learn. I am a poor teacher, it seems.” The Vampyre spoke slowly, with purpose. Without saying it, Alucard knew he had somehow, in some way, bought himself one final chance to survive this encounter. “Since you have walked through that door I have learned that you are very brave, Kitten. You have come with an urgent need that has made you reckless, but you did not come to me with any intent to deceive. You are so honestly afraid, a touch desperate, and your heart is wounded. You are lonely and your aura is heavy with sorrow. I feel your uncertainty, both about your path and your own perceived failings. It was an easy guess that your little kitty features are a pain point belonging to that sense of shame you wrap yourself in. I know you now, Kitten. You are an honest and noble demon who evidently does not know how to be one.”
“The only problem then is... That I don't know you.” Alucard whispered. And if I can't learn how, I'll never get another opportunity to know anyone.
“I am in a receptive mood, Kitten. Come here and know me. I will not hide from you.”
Vampyre led Dhampyre by hand to the adjoining room, to the mess of sheets and blankets from an earlier tryst swept aside by those nigh invisible tendrils. Without resisting he allowed himself to be laid down next to the other demon, sidled up to, and caressed mindlessly until the creature closed his eyes in a meditative rest. Only then did those hands still and Alucard could take stock of what might be his last moments on earth.
How do I know you, Joachim? I don't know what to do. For a time he watched the flickering of the candlelight casting off shadows from the other room. Moving more than his arms a little was pointless, as the oppressive expanding ghostly entity that was just as much the Vampyre as the body laying against his, prevented anything else. There was nowhere for him to go... All around was Joachim. Nowhere for his own sense of Will to drive...
Except... No. His breath caught. Is there really nowhere? Nowhere at all? But dare he even try? That was the real question. Surely the Vampyre would know the moment he even attempted. But then... if this was not the answer, why would the Vampyre have left him this small range of movement? It was certainly not an oversight. Maybe the Vampyre was honest when he had mentioned he would not give the Dhampyre, the Student, the correct course of action, but Joachim never mentioned refraining from removing all the other incorrect choices. I... I think you really want me to pass your test, Joachim. All right... What have I to lose?
With a deep, courage mustering breath, Alucard reached out towards the resting Vampyre. One arm he curled around the demon's back, holding a shoulder to keep in place. With the other, he reached into the darkness and found the hand on his chest, threaded their fingers, and held tight. What little space was left for his own aura he let spill, cognizant perhaps for the first time of his energy butting up against an outside force. The force did not give an inch, but without any other ideas he did not exert himself, instead letting his essence ebb and flow against the Vampyre's. The rhythmic slide had a strange calming effect. Lulled, he closed his eyes to just feel the gliding energies intertwining, but never mixing.
It was not an immediate realization, that his ebb and flow had so much more space to fill. More the feelings that echoed but did not stem from his own, gradually revealed themselves. The profound sense of loneliness. The painful desire to be seen and understood. Anger and shame. A hollow chasm that drank up his essence as it skirted along. The lesson became clear to him then. Joachim was not just around him but within. That's why he was still alive. Through no knowledge of his own he had come to the demon with a naked soul bared, and the demon had in turn chosen to bare himself. It was through dumb luck alone he had come before Joachim in a state the Elder Vampyre would receive. Only Alucard had not known how to see Joachim's reception. Now he could both see and feel the soothing balm of energy between them. All Joachim had wanted was to be seen by him...
Around the room the oppressive aura drew back into the resting Vampyre. Only the connection between remained, flowing from the points in which they touched, sharing wants and needs, desires and sentiments through the bond. Alucard at last could say he understood. He did not need to figure out how to ask Joachim for help. He already had.
He did not move even though he now had the freedom to, instead holding that connection like the lifeline it was. When the Vampyre roused from his meditation, Alucard rose with him, keeping their hands clasped, and his energy filling the vast frightening void of loneliness he'd discovered within the other demon. They sat together like that, very still until the burgeoning morning light disrupted the candlelit intimacy.
“You want to be my friend.” Alucard was the first to break the silence, though his voice was just barely a whisper. “You're pretty sure I will not hurt you or betray you. You are willing to risk that. You also... Think it's funny that I have no idea about demon customs in spite of being sired by Dracula. I am... strange. You see yourself as... strange. You would like to help me if it means you can know me more.”
Had he really inferred all that from this demon link?
The Vampyre did not immediately answer, but Alucard could swear the ghost of a smile touched his lips. Even the slightest sense of warmth accompanied it along that... Connection. That's what this was. Instead of answering, the creature bent forwards slightly, catching his head in the free hand available. Alucard was guided closer, almost as if being drawn into a kiss that never came. Well, not a human one, at least. Joachim pressed his crown against Alucard's hairline and paused. His voice was also hushed now when he continued his lesson. “The greater demon bares their weakness to show trust. To show love.” The Vampyre explained. “To give the other the chance to prove they are worthy of it.”
His weakness... Alucard's eyes fell as he pondered the meaning... and settle upon the answer. His neck. I could tear his throat out this close. The Dhampyre did not, however. Instead, he let instinct guide him, choosing to reach fingers out into the Elder Vampyre's hair and pull him closer. Out of danger, into more or less a nuzzle. With his hand still laced with Joachim's he could feel the change in the other demon.
“Just now you are... apprehensive?”
The Vampyre shook his head and closed his other hand around Alucard's. “Close enough. I am actually what comes after apprehension... Relieved. I have never met another honest demon before. I find being subject to the games our kind play excessively exhausting, so it is pleasing to find another to be honest with.”
“You are eager just to have another to finally belong.” Alucard corrected before he realized the words spilling from his mouth. “I'm sorry, I just... I feel like I am inside your head.” Still stupidly running his mouth, he blurted out a question. “Did you just kiss me? Was that the way demons kiss?”
The Vampyre gave him a bemused look. “You are so human, Kitten. However, your assessment is correct. I find I am quite eager to have you around. Now, we have an hour or so before it is time to escape this human dwelling. Make yourself decent and come here.” The Vampyre gestured offhandedly to the state of his unclasped trousers before seeing to his own laces. He waited by the headboard for Alucard to join, no longer petting or caressing the younger Dhampyre, but simply holding. “Humans call our particular species 'demons of desire' because we touch all the time. It is how we learn and communicate our wants and needs. The problem is it can be very dangerous to touch the wrong demon. You are lucky you are captivating, Kitten. I am happy to be touched by you.”
I've never been so unsure what to do or say or how to act... Alucard admitted to himself. But instinct had gotten him this far, had it not? It was so radically different to communicate in this new foreign fashion, and quite overwhelming if he was being honest. His own emotions were difficult enough to sort out on a good day, but the Vampyre's were almost terrifyingly loud, threatening to drown everything else out. They were speaking words now, but so much of the tone and inflection was gathered from the touch... It must really be as Joachim was saying. This was how demons of Desire were meant to be. I don't believe I have ever... Just been a demon after all.
“Next time I want to touch a demon, I should ask your opinion of them first, I gather?” He found himself joking in spite of everything that had happened this night. It was all the touch. The touch let him know he was safe.
Joachim's shoulders shook with a silent laughter. “When you next find you want to touch a demon, come find me instead. I will keep you safe, Kitten. I find myself with a rapidly growing affection towards you.”
“Then... You will not make another human or demon... touch me... if I don't want them to in the future, right?”
“Is this about that sorry excuse for a hunter, the Schneider clansman in the other room?”
“What do you think?”
“I thought I was clear, I didn't make him do anything.”
“You certainly... facilitated.”
“There is your human emotion peeking through. Free sex is free sex for demons. Really it wasn't even about the sex, it was about making you understand you can't always play to your human half, Kitten. If you had come to me as you are right now, the lesson would not have been necessary.” When Alucard still stared, puzzled, the Vampyre tried to explain. “I thought it would give you the distraction from your fear to see the only place you had need to flow was the only place you could have in that moment, which was into me.”
At a loss for words, Alucard said nothing. Perhaps this was just the first of many striking differences between his bloodlines he'd have to reconcile would never be reconciled.
“You want an apology?” The Vampyre asked, studying him.
“Would I get one?” He inquired right back. “It's apparently my faulty human desire for one.”
“I apologize then.” Joachim offered, without further prompting. “Next time I feel you need a demon etiquette lesson, I will be more aware of your human sensitivities.”
“That is a terrible apology.”
“It is the only one you are getting, so make due.” Joachim quipped, beyond the event all together. “Now, considering you are looking for a Belmont but have no interest in the Schneider clansmen sucking your cock, I shall assume you are not looking for any old Belmont or their cousins. The one who killed Dracula, you mentioned. Out for a little bit of revenge, dear Kitten?”
“The man over there is a relative of the Belmont's?”
“That is why I am here. Call it a personal grievance, but I hunt Belmonts and their ilk like the dogs they are. Tonight I had this spark of inspiration. I thought, what could be more vengeful than a boring death? How about making them debase themselves and live with it. I had no idea this married father was going to like it so much. What a family man. I even put aside my personal preferences for this debacle. Tonight has truly put me off the whole idea.”
“I... Well, I don't know what to say to that, I'm afraid.” Alucard breezed past, another thing to reconcile would never be reconciled. “I am looking for the man who defeated my father. Trevor Belmont. Not for revenge... I helped him kill my father. He has gone missing, and I mean to find him.”
Silver eyes studied him in silence.
Still following instinct, Alucard took the Vampyre's hand and placed it back against his chest, where surely the demon could feel his heart beating below. He lay his hand over Joachim's and looked back into the silver irises peering at him.
“You ache for him, this Trevor Belmont.” Joachim surmised. “Now that is very interesting to me, Kitten. This is a tale of romance and patricide I would love to hear in our days ahead.”
“Thank you, Joachim. I heard you could find any Belmont.” Alucard felt the strength leech out of him, body at last believing his mind that he was in the clear. He collapsed against the Vampyre and took a moment to just breath in. This was surely the most dangerous and strangest bedfellow he would ever make in his long life. Of that he was a certain.
Joachim was very tolerant with the weight of him fully against the other demon. The senses from their connection perhaps even betraying that he kind of enjoyed it, even. The Vampyre's tone was not unfriendly, but not as affectionate as just moments before when he spoke. “I am not going to find this Belmont for you, Kitten. You are. I will teach you how a demon hunts. You may have gotten this far playing a human, but you are going to need to be a demon if you wish to hunt a Vampyre Hunter.” With a quirk of his lips in jest, he added. “And to not get me killed along with you.”
It was a fair offer, so he accepted the guidance of the more experienced demon with grace.
Alucard remembered Trevor asking him once in a moment of weakness a question he often thought about. Was he a monster or was he a man?
He was both.
Until meeting Joachim, he had thought he knew what it meant to be both. He had been wrong all along.
Trevor had taught him how to be man, accepting he was also a demon.
Joachim would teach him how to be a demon, accepting that he was also human.
He followed his new companion out of the cabin dwelling, neither demon caring or wondering what would become of the man left inside. Joachim hummed an unfamiliar tune as he took the lead, and Alucard followed silently for a great distance, studying how the Vampyre moved, weaved between humans without care, avoiding threats, his glamour impenetrable from even children's gazes.
Alucard knew the risk had paid off in short order. This was his best shot at finding Trevor.
Still... Something was bothering him. Something he could not just let go. It was hours later, a great distance of trailing the Vampyre and imitating his methods passed when Alucard finally broke down and asked one more time. “Indulge me, already, Joachim. Back in the cabin... Was that a kiss? Did you kiss me?” The warm tingle of that little lingering act could still be felt if he focused on it.
Joachim stopped momentarily, tilting his head. With a small laugh he resumed humming, never answering the question.
Chapter 27: Roller Coaster
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
August 2037 ~ Suginami Ward, Tokyo, Yomiuriland – Evening
Unfortunately due to work constraints it was a few days later than previously suggested, yet Alucard was pleased to have finally made good on his promise to show the younger Belmont what an Amusement Park had to offer. In truth, this was also the Dhampyre's first visit to the park that was only a hop, skip and a jump away. There had never been any incentive to explore the area he'd taken up residence in prior. Perhaps he truly was becoming a bore in his advanced age as Yoko had theorized to explain his perpetual muted energy, but would he ever admit that to the perky sorceress? Absolutely not. Besides, as he watched the nightlife splendour's effect on Trevor, there was a stirring in his chest of something long gone dormant. An awakened urge to re-engage with the world around him and integrate. Plus, the new knowledge that it... was kind of fun to be carried through the sky on roller coasters and the like, even for a creature who could fly under their own power and volition.
The massive looping roller coaster had been the Hunter's favourite. He'd rambled a great deal about how thrilling it was to go through so many sensations at once. The lurching anticipation, the thrill of the speed, the fear at the worst of the heights, and the often nausea inducing after effects.
Trevor's enthusiasm for the rides and Go-Karts seemed to extend beyond his physical capability to participate, much to Alucard's surprise, but they had seemed to find the delicate balance between jostling the Belmont's brain and letting his body find it's equilibrium. It had only taken a few episodes of lightheaded spells with Alucard having to hold Trevor up on his feet to find the Hunter's tolerance level. In between the thrilling brain busters they walked the park, admiring the lights, tasting snacks, and engaged simply in the spectator sport of people watching. Feeling the limit of his human companion's tolerance for anything more exhilarating in the foreseeable future, he'd thought to finish the night's activities on the relaxing Ferris Wheel. Giving Trevor the promised view of the cityscape and lights from above. A little innocent energy on the Dhampyre's behalf may or may not have shorted the ride out just as they neared the peak. Nothing the mechanics below would not be able to resolve in ten minutes or so. Which is what he told Trevor when the the Hunter asked if they should be concerned... Minus admitting to his possible involvement.
“At least you can admire the view longer. Happy accident, wouldn't you say?” Alucard mused.
Trevor gave him a wry smile, perhaps suspect he did indeed maybe have something to do with the happy accident, but the brunette did not throw any slanderous accusations around. Instead, the human gazed long out over the twinkling lights and sighed. “I couldn't have envisioned such a landscape in even my wildest dreams. And yet, you just see this every day. It's normal for you.”
“I'm ashamed to say I really haven't taken note in such a long while. You're correct; It's normal for me. It is fun to see it through your eyes however, Trevor. I have a new appreciation for the little wonders around me again in part thanks to you.”
The Hunter sighed again, wistful and long drawn, the scent of the melancholia from earlier creeping back. “It's quite... This is rather romantic a predicament to be in, isn't it? Intimacy in the dark, with stars shining above, and man made stars shining below.”
“I... won't disagree. I hope you know that my intentions were just to give you a good view of your surroundings.”
“Oh, you're innocent, I'm sure. It just seems like such a waste of all this beauty and emotion.”
“Well... Have you ever heard of the term Romantic Friendship? It's a term for friends who share an extremely close emotional bond. A friend you would live and die for. Completely removed from the sexual connotations of a romantic partnership.” The Hunter gave him a bemused look, but Alucard persisted. “It's a real thing. Poets and philosopher's write about it. So fret not. It's not a wasted moment of beauty and emotion.”
To this, the Hunter laughed in response. “Well then... I think my wife had one of those romances with a friend of hers.” He paused to squint his eyes and peer at the Dhampyre. “I am quite earnestly in friendship with you. Romantically so, I would say, even.” With a shrug and a throwing up of his hands, the Hunter slid over the few inches separating them and threw his arms around Alucard's waist, head resting comfortably against his arm. “This is a friendship embrace. A romantic friendship embrace.”
“I accept your romantic friendship embrace. I am strictly returning one in kind.” Alucard chuckled soundlessly, enclosing the hunter in his own, and resting his head upon the pretty brunette's.
“Next you'll be telling me romantic friends kiss.”
“Some do, but I'll control my passionate feelings of friendship towards you.” The Dhampyre informed with his own wistful sigh.
“I suppose I can do you the same courtesy.” Trevor replied, no hint of offence or agitation in his tone or scent. “I don't want to go back just yet. Is there a forest or something nearby we can walk? It's been so long since I've been in the woods. I miss them.”
“Absolutely. There is a park close by the river, actually. It's not far at all.”
“Oh no, our romantic friendship view.” Trevor lamented as the Ferris Wheel lurched back into motion, their lofty vantage point dipping back down to reality. “It's a good thing we can have a romantic friendship moonlight stroll though by the river.”
“That was close. We almost had to write-off the night completely as a failure.” He played along, but honestly was reluctant in letting the Hunter go. There were only so many moments of warmth and ease left between them before the truth came out, his mind never stopped to remind.
Leaving the bright lights and noise from Yomiuriland behind in favour of the dark riverside park, Alucard welcomed the distance and cooler air wafting off Misawa river. The footpaths were by and large vacant, as if reserved for the two anachronistic wanderers. The Dhampyre was glad to have the comfortable silence in privacy, not just for his own sake. He could both see and smell the calming effect the trees bent overhead had on the Hunter. Canopy of leaves and brush insulating against the hubris of cars and city just beyond. He made a mental note to lookup more nature reserves and parks nearby to take Trevor, if only for therapy's sake.
It never once occurred to him to hustle the Hunter along when he stopped to feel the bark or leaves of nearby foliage, or examine wildflowers in the moonlight or occasional lamp post. He even followed wordlessly after the Hunter as he weaved off trail into the brush, seeking the riverbank. They followed the water, hopping fallen trees and stones. Trevor was smiling, enjoying the simple act of discovery, and Alucard found himself doing the same. Enjoying Trevor's secondhand simple pleasure.
“What is that?” The Hunter whispered quite suddenly, lowering into the tall grass.
Alucard instinctively followed suite, gazing in the direction that had drawn Trevor's focus. Butting up against some plastic waste - an oddity for such a pollution conscious country - was a clutch of eggs, swollen near to bursting with the lives contained within. From one split gelatinous egg crawled about a frogish yokai creature Alucard had seen only in the deepest of this land's woods.
“They do not spawn here. The eggs must have washed in with the trash from afar.”
Trevor twisted his cross-body bag around and pulled one of Alucard's belt knives from it. Pilfered from right out under the Dhampyre's nose. It was not exactly an issue, the man should have a weapon on him in case of an emergency witch incident, but it was troubling he'd found just that particular knife Alucard would be mostly likely to let go unnoticed. A thought for later, certainly. “They are dangerous?”
“Not at that size, no. But they will be if they grow. Best to get rid of them.”
Before the Dhampyre could even ready a small ball of Hellfire, the Hunter let loose his stolen knife. It nailed the small nimble creature mid-jump through the eye, killing it instantly.
“You've not lost your touch.” Alucard whistled, mildly impressed.
“I've been practising in your garden.”
“Against what?”
“Your tree.”
Alucard clicked his tongue before he could stop himself. “I like that tree. Stop stabbing my tree.” Following the Hunter's footsteps as he hopped across the river to free his stolen knife, Alucard pondered out loud. “If you've filched my knife, what else of mine have you gotten into, I have to wonder.”
“Well your clothes, for one. You keep wearing more or less the same things but you have such a large closet. It's full of nice things you never wear. Your cabinet in the bathroom has two nice perfumes you never use as well.”
“That's formal wear. You don't wear a three piece suit just because anymore.” Quickly, he corrected. “Over here, I mean.” A stupid slip up, but Trevor did not seem to notice, it seemed. “Same for cologne.”
Wiping the blade off on some pulled dried grass, Trevor's shoulders shook with slight laughter. “Your bedside table has a weird aspic or balm. It's smells a little like fruit. It's very slick.”
“Stay out of that drawer.” Alucard grit out.
“There's silky cordage and colourful sticks in there too. They are a little on phallic side. Some kind of totems?”
“Stay out of that drawer, Trevor Belmont.” He snapped, pointing a finger for emphasis. “You had to go digging to find those. They're under the tissues, a book, a flashlight and box of spare charging cables.” Muttering in English, he cursed under his breath. “I should stick a totem right up his ass, the nosy little brat.”
With the decency to look just a touch contrite, Trevor offered him the knife back, cleaned and sheathed. “Here. I'm sorry I took your knife.”
Alucard shook his head and pushed the proffered item back into the Hunter's hands. “You keep that one. You are missing the Vampyre Killer, after all. We should probably find you a whip stringed with some silver for the time being as well. Wouldn't want to leave you defenceless.” With a measured breath, he continued. “It's fine about your snooping too. I get it. You've been cooped up inside and you are bored. Just try to keep it to things you don't have to dig through drawers to find, perhaps?”
The Hunter nodded solemnly before a slight mischievous smile split his features. “Does this mean our romantic friendship has been downgraded to just a normal one now?”
The Dhampyre couldn't resist the snort of laughter that came out. He grabbed the Hunter by the strap of his cross-body bag and pulled him close, placing a swift chaste kiss on the crown of his head. “Perish the thought.” With another equally swift movement, he fired off a small stream of Hellfire, rendering the frogspawn and the freshly killed corpse to nothing but ash and a foul momentary stench. “You can't claim you've had a boring day. You ate all kinds of food and rode all kinds of death traps, and you even got to slay a monster.”
“I'd rather study than murder it, truth be told. But you said it would grow up to hurt people. Better to be safe than sorry, so they say.”
Alucard made a pleased noise. “That's partially why I grew so fond of you in the first place, you know? You are okay with letting animals and demons be so long as they are not threatening anyone. It's a rare form of compassion not often extended to my kind.”
“That will change one day. I'm certainly not the first to think that way. I can't be the last.”
He's going to be pretty disappointed on that front. Alucard let the statement be. Let the Hunter be disappointed about that lack of progress at a later date. “Are you ready to go home now? I'm not exactly dressed for a swim.”
“Guess it's a good thing I can't swim.” Trevor gave a slight bow of his head and waved Alucard on. “You lead. I'll follow.”
The Dhampyre did just that, picking the shortest path back towards the parking lot and his beloved car, all while a pet project formed in his mind. “Perhaps I will make you a whip, instead. That way I'll know it's the best quality.” He pondered out loud, slipping behind the steering wheel.
“You can do that?” Trevor asked, sizing him up anew.
Alucard preened under the scrutiny. “It's my own talent. After all these years, I still haven't seemed capable of gaining the level of aptitude for mechanical devices and magickal seals as my father had mastery of, but I sure can design some efficient demon slaying gear. That's how I met Yoko's lover, Hammer. He is very reliable in acquiring the materials I need. Funny guy, too. Kind of like Grant. You'd like him.”
“Just to hear that you have friends is pleasing to me. That you haven't been lonely. But I'm sure I will enjoy this Hammer's company... As well as any gift you make me.”
“What about you? Did you make any friends in Wallachia while I was away? You haven't mentioned anyone new.”
The Hunter shook his head with a laugh. “Perhaps it's terrible to say, but I find most people utterly exhausting. I didn't have friends in France, and I didn't want them in Romania either. I'm not sure what it says about me that the only people I liked were my wife, a Dhampyre, hedge-mage, and a bandit king.”
“It says you have good taste, is what.” Alucard supplied. “But you should give it a try. Other people, I mean. They're not so bad after all, and this is coming from me, the Dhampyre you like.”
“I'll just be friends with your friends. You've already vetted them.”
“Even Joachim?”
To this the Hunter made a Belmont Pause, and settled on the affirmative. “He's very interesting to me. With his strength he must be very old. I bet he's just a wealth of knowledge and history just waiting to be plumbed.”
“Oh, you may want to be careful about that, Trevor.” Alucard warned. “Joachim just may be all to eager to plumb more than a wealth of knowledge if you let him. If you think he's into me, you should hear how smitten he is with you.”
“Was it the holy water kiss?” Trevor inquired and sighed when Alucard nodded. “Demons are so weird about that stuff. If you backwashed some acid down my throat I would not be coming back for seconds.” With a shudder and a disgusted noise he added. “If you backwashed anything down my throat I would not have a positive feeling about the interaction. I killed a succubus once in the foothills around my house back in France, and I swear she shuddered with pleasure as my sword took that final plunge. I couldn't even touch my wife for a month following the experience because I would think about that succubus' death orgasm.” Another shudder and the Hunter all but spat. “Why does my mind always go to the worst memories? I do have good memories in here too. Hardly seems fair.”
“I suppose us demons are just built differently... Tell me about a good memory then. Change your thoughts.”
“What kind of good memory?”
“Any kind.”
“Hmm...” The Hunter was quiet a few minutes as he thought. They were nearing the house by the time he piped up. “I had a dog briefly. Sort of. It was a wild wolf. But it was very tame. Never bit me or the kids. I used to take naps with it by that old mangled tree. It wouldn't come home with me, but it would walk me home. The strangest thing. He was a great dog.”
Alucard bit his lower lip and made a mildly encouraging sound. “He sounds like he was an amazing wolf.”
“He was... It made waiting for you kind of fun. The tree was a meeting place but I guess I kind of made it a lot of things while I waited. It was nice to have an excuse to get out of the village and just give my dog a ton of belly rubs. He really liked those.”
“I'll bet he did.” Alucard managed to respond in a level tone and completely normal candour. Inside he was of course dying of laughter. Those had indeed been some fairly epic belly rubs the Hunter had doled out generously.
“I hope he's okay. He never had blood or anything on him. Maybe he was too old to hunt and that's why he kept coming around?”
“I'm sure he managed without you as best he could.” Alucard promised, backing into his driveway. “Life always moves on.”
The Hunter made a non-committal noise and exited the vehicle. Far from the nervous and cowed young man who needed the Dhampyre to buckle him in and out weeks ago. Perfectly comfortable letting himself into the dwelling with his own key, knowing exactly where to place his shoes, zip-up hoodie and bag for the the next outing. With effortless familiarity he popped the kettle on for herbal tea, found mugs and the usual tall water glass Alucard drank from to fill, flicked on all the relevant lights and returned just in time to take Alucard's coat and hang it up for the Dhampyre. “I could be persuaded to fetch your slippers as well, except you don't have any.” Trevor replied when the Dhampyre made a pleasantly pleased noise of his own at the service.
“I could be persuaded to buy slippers just for the luxury.” He responded in kind, placing his shoes next to the Hunter's. While Trevor vanished back into the kitchen to finish up preparing his tea, Alucard took a moment to just look at the pair of shoes lined up side by side. A little slice of imagery of what he could have expected to see coming home six centuries ago. Give or take another two pairs of small boys footwear. Sypha's and two girls slippers as well, had he actually found Trevor like he promised he would back then. It would have been a very large, happy family.
His office opened silently, welcoming him inside to find his record player and put on an album from the 1930's in the dark, nostalgic as he was suddenly for days long past. He rejoined the Hunter in the kitchen and something about the ambient music in the background of another room made his heart ache. Vaguely he recalled his parents dancing to music while he played in an adjoining room. The music playing now had a similar ghostly quality, but bestowed that same sense of comfort of being somewhere safe with people who loved him. He'd had a wonderful evening spent with Trevor, so perhaps he was just yearning for more. The desired comfort of an impossibility such as Sypha and the children playing in a separate room, distant and dreamlike as the music streaming out of his office, but instead knowing that poor Trevor had no inklings their loved ones really were phantom dancing in another room far beyond their reach?
Now I am being dramatic. He chastised himself.
“Why do you listen to music that makes you sad?” The Hunter asked him in a small voice, between sips of tea.
“It doesn't make me sad... It helps me remember people I used to know who aren't here anymore. It's bittersweet.” Alucard shrugged. “I guess remembering them makes me sad. But it's a good kind of sad. It helps me to be grateful I knew someone worth being sad about. If that makes sense.”
“It does... It's just... I don't like to be sad when I remember my mother or Estée's passing. I like to remember them how they were in good times. My mother was very frail and skeletal when she passed from pneumonia. That's not who she was. She was a force to be reckoned with. I'd rather celebrate them.” The Hunter was quick to add. “If it helps you, by all means. Be sad for a bit if you need to. Just don't be too sad for too long. Anybody who loves you wouldn't want you to be.”
“You give good advise... Would you take it if you needed it?” Alucard probed. “That advise in particular.”
“I am now, aren't I?”
The Dhampyre studied the brunette with what he knew were closed off features. He weighed the words that had been spoken against the weight of the items he held in stasis in his office. Where the ghosts of people past currently danced. Where the proof he was speaking only the terribly brutal truth lay. He wondered... Was now the time? Hot off the high of a wonderful evening that highlighted there was still so much more to learn, see and experience? Was Trevor ready for the truth? Strong enough in body and mind from his ordeal, from the drawn out torture he'd been subjected to? Was Alucard ready, for that matter? He'd be the only one in Trevor's world once the other shoe dropped. The only one Trevor would know from his past life, and the only one left who was still alive to love and comfort him. To catch him as he fell. Just as he promised he would all those years ago.
“Let's go to the study. The couch is more comfortable than this table and these stools.”
“Why do you have furniture you hate?” Trevor inquired absently, but gathered his tea and followed along after the Dhampyre. He didn't wait for Alucard to settle down by the couch before the piano in a sprawl. “If you're going to play for me, that would make the night complete.”
“Perhaps later.” The Dhampyre answered just as absentmindedly, and he hesitated before brushing aside the cloth covering the cold storage unit. Another hesitation, and he cracked it open, removing the magickal seal to grab the most innocuous of the evidence first before resealing the rest. “Trevor...” He began with a deep breath. “Have you seen this before?”
The runette extended his free hand to accept the old beaten mildewed book. “Wow, that is in some rough shape.” The Hunter commented, turning the yellowed faint binding over to reveal equally yellowed and faint pages. As his eye scanned the French text, his face lit up. “Would you believe I do? I was actually in the middle of reading this before I left Wallachia. My copy was in much better shape than this, though.”
“What about these?”
Just as carefully, as the volumes were delicate and nearing the end of their days, Trevor turned over and inspected the rest of the handful of books, smiling as he recognized the titles of the ancient dog-eared novels and encyclopedias. “That's incredible. These are some of my favourites. Where did you get these though? They are in really poor condition.”
“Maybe look harder at them. You are certain you haven't... seen these copies before?” The pit of his stomach was threatening to out right drop, but he stilled himself and waited on edge as the Hunter obliged his request and turned over the pages more carefully. Page by page, each deepening the small furrow between the brunette's brow. Alucard's heart was in his throat.
So intently was he watching the Hunter's features for the spark of recognition, that the sudden rapping at the glass door in his living area caused him to jump from his seat. His own nerves caused the Hunter to startle in turn, dropping the ancient texts in a clatter on the ground. The constant incessant rapping could only be one person. That one person with the absolute perfect ability to always show up at the worst times.
“I... I'll get it.” He told Trevor, but the Hunter was already out of the study, leaving Alucard to gather up the ancient texts and stash them back on the coffee table. Fucking hell, Joachim. Did you even go home? What about Leila?
Just beyond the study door, Joachim and Trevor stood in a sort of face-off that made Alucard uneasy all over again. The Vampyre filled the frame of the glass patio door, eyes red and hungry, going above and beyond to be quite clear he was enjoying studying every inch of the Hunter before him. All the while Joachim was making an audible purring noise that also did nothing to ease Alucard's apprehension.
“Won't you invite me in, Chouchou? I've come a long way to see you.”
“Just to see me, have you? My, mister Vampyre, you are very flattering.” Trevor purred back. Frankly, Alucard had no idea how he managed to just slide into such an effortless flirty tone and both smell and sound like he meant it. “The idea of letting you in is quite tempting, but you'll have to ask the Master of the house. I'm just the housekeeping.”
“The housekeeping.” Joachim's purr deepened. “Oh, mon chou, what are you doing here with the halfbreed? Never mind coming in, I'll instead invite you out. You'll be a King in my domain, and I promise to show you the pampering a delicate thing such as yourself is due.”
“A King, you say?” Trevor extended his hands, inviting Joachim to take them, which the lecherous Vampyre did the second the offer was made. “I am just a simple man, as I've said. But perhaps we will pretend for a bit. Adrian, can we invite your friend inside?”
“I think you already did.” Alucard sighed. “Please, Joachim. Make yourself at home.”
With a quirk of his lips, the elder Moroi cast a painfully faux apologetic look in his direction. “Don't despair, Kitten. There is no helping my being more handsome and desirable than you are. It's the full blood.” He explained in a chipper tone. “Besides, I brought you a gift. It's just outside. Bring it in won't you, while I get acquainted properly with your little paramour.”
Sure, why not. Dhampyre serviceman left the two briefly to comply, finding a crate full of champagne waiting to be hauled inside. Well at least it is a nice and normal gift, and not some bizarre cursed relic. Or a severed head. Or recently flayed pelt still dripping from the kill. Since he was the one up, he left his dearest and most beloved person alone with Joachim a second time in order to fetch an ice bucket and glasses for their surprise gift, returning to find the Vampyre still with Trevor's hands enclosed in his own. Kneeling so close before his human that the Vampyre's knees splayed to fit Trevor's inside his thighs. Deep breath, man. He repeated to himself over and over again as he placed flutes. Joachim can't help being a Vampyre, and Trevor can't help being goddamn Trevor Christopher Belmont. Bloody Incubus, I swear. Did Joachim really have to rub his thumbs over the back of the Hunter's hands he held? Really, was that necessary?
“I like you much better this way, Chou. Docile. You are much easier to admire up close this way, and there is, in my esteemed opinion, much to be admired. A bit waifish and masculine for my usual tastes, but then I suppose that is why you caught my Kitten's attention. He does fetishize that bony, sickly look. The only creature I know who gets excited about a famine.” The Vampyre wriggled a little closer to Trevor as Alucard made a noise of displeasure at his gross exaggerations. “Oh, he doesn't like to admit that,” Joachim explained with a little laugh. “He's afraid it will look poorly on him that he looks poorly on full figures. So in the end it is all about his own vanity, see?”
“I do not hate... people with an abundance of fat stores.” Alucard stressed in English. “Jackie Brown era Pam Grier is sexy as hell.”
“She's not fat in Jackie Brown.” Joachim rolled his eyes, also switching to English. “But it says a lot about you that you think she is. Shame on you, Kitten.”
“Oh, for fuck's sake.” He threw up his hands. “Drink your champagne and get off my human.” He then all but threw the glass at the Vampyre and transitioned smoothly back to Romanian. “Trevor, please try some. I think you will like champagne. It's like wine but with a fun twist.”
While he started to pour the Hunter a glass of his own, Joachim had other plans, lifting his flute to Trevor's lips and encouraging the boy to sip. As the liquid passed the human's lips, pale blue eyes widened in a mix of surprise and delight.
“It tries to bite you!” He exclaimed, no doubt referring to the effervescence, and was happy to drink from Joachim's hands the remainder of the flute.
To hell with both of you. Alucard narrowed his eyes, and kept the fresh glass he'd poured for himself instead. Let them share and serve each other. “What is the honour of your visit, Joachim? Surely you've not come just to get drunk and hold hands with my house guest.”
“Does it bother you that I have?” The Vampyre teased, lifting the one hand of Trevor's he still held and wiggling it in the air for all to see. “Your other dogs have currently vacated the premises, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to behold this creature you are so fond of.” Turning to Trevor, he continued with a flash of his fangs. “And what a creature you are. Your features and your scent do not betray your thoughts or your fears, Little One. Thank goodness I have other ways of knowing your intentions.”
Trevor's eyes cast downwards for a moment before they returned to meet Joachim's still hungry red gaze. “As I keep telling Adrian and now yourself, you are placing far too many expectations on me. I am just a simple man. Nothing more.”
Quicker than the eye could track, the Vampyre had his hands on each side of the Hunter's face, holding it upturned so he could look directly into the distinct Belmont blue-grey irises. “What is most impressive about you, little Chou, is that you are such an excellent liar it seems that even you believe the falsehoods on your tongue.” The Vampyre held fast, quietly studying the face captured before him until finally, to Alucard's dismay and concern, a chink in Trevor's armour gave way. Joachim's smile was not menacing or cruel, but victorious. “I see you, Little One. I know you, now.” Still he held the Hunter in his grip until even Alucard could see the slightest change in Trevor's expression. A hint of apprehension followed by the faintest sound of a nervous swallow.
Alucard wished distantly that he could say something or intervene, but it seemed even he was caught in the spell. He watched the Vampyre nearly fall over the smaller human, eclipsing him in a mockery of an embrace. But strangely, all the Vampyre did was rest his forehead against the Hunter's and close his eyes. The room fell still. Who could say for how long, but the spell did eventually break. Trevor came back to himself, regaining his autonomy only to surprise the Dhampyre by meeting the Vampyre in a more human embrace of his own free will.
“Thank you, Joachim.” The Hunter spoke softly, his arms thrown loosely over marginally broader shoulders. “For taking care of Adrian and being his friend. Thank you for helping to search for me.”
In response the Vampyre stilled, considering the Hunter's gratitude before accepting it. Just like that Trevor was released and Joachim flopped back down in his own place and space, leaning back on his arms to look both human and Dhampyre over with a pleased smirk. “Little Chou, would you please for the love of Leviathan put on any other music than what is playing right now?”
“With pleasure.” Trevor replied. He traded a quick confused glance in Alucard's direction but stood up to comply with the Vampyre's whims.
With the Hunter out of the room, Alucard felt free to narrow his eyes and hiss in a low English voice. “What the fuck, Joachim?”
“You are so human, Kitten. I was looking out for you, that's what.”
Completely at a loss for words, the Dhampyre simply gestured with his hands again in the universal 'what the fuck' motion and waited for the explanation he clearly needed.
Joachim rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly, as if he could not believe he even had to justify his actions. “He is genuine, you halfbreed nitwit. You can stop worrying about him being some imposter.”
Alucard sputtered a moment but regained his composure. “Of course he's real.” The words that he meant to be absolute came out with a falter even the Dhampyre could not deny sounded... weak.
“You should take some lessons from your pet. You suck at lying, and you reek of uncertainty. Maybe you think you were hiding your doubts, but every time you look at him there is a wriggling little suspicion in you plain as day. That boy, at the very least, believes himself to be genuine. He is honest with himself and intends to be so with you. So you can relieve yourself of that one worry, courtesy of my affection for you.” Joachim waited a beat and rolled his eyes again. “This is where you say thank you and I say you are welcome, sweet Princeling.”
Alucard was too distracted by the news to take the bait. Had he really been doubting Trevor was Trevor? He had at the start, when they first found the Hunter in the cave. An impossible miracle too perfectly placed to entrap the Dhampyre. But... He had thought he'd chosen to believe in the young Hunter. So why was there a tension leaving his body he'd not even been aware of holding if so? Was that really what this whole display was about? Assuaging his fears? Fears he didn't even know he'd been keeping?
“Are you trying to tell me you had your hands all over my boyfriend strictly for my benefit?”
“That's what I just said. Clean your ears out, halfbreed.”
Alucard's brain just... would not process. It did not compute. “I didn't even know you could do that with humans. I thought it was a Desire demon thing.”
The Vampyre stared at him in open disbelief for a solid thirty seconds before his features changed to one of equally open disappointment. “You are so dumb, you know that? It's like everything I teach you goes in one ear and out the other. Do you really think--” Clawed hands raised palms facing the Dhampyre and the Vampyre halted his own tirade. “Oh there is no helping you, you simple-minded child. You are the absolute worst demon to ever play at being a demon. You'd be dead a thousand times over if it weren't for me. I hope you learned that much.”
“I don't even know what's going on anymore.” Alucard gave up.
“That is the only thing you have demonstrated tonight. I am speechless, halfbreed. Absolutely speechless. Thank Gamori you've got a pretty face because you certainly aren't winning with any of your other faculties.”
“Are you done?”
“With what, exactly? Dressing you down for being a box of hair or drinking? Because the answer is to be determined for either.”
The Hunter clearing his throat from the office door frame caught their attention. Joachim's features smoothed out while Alucard knew he looked just chastised and confused as he had been under the Vampyre's scrutiny.
“Would you two like some privacy to continue...” Trevor hedged a guess, using only tone and body language between the two Moroi. “...Your argument?”
“Please.” Joachim extended a hand to bid the young man back to the chabudai in a dismissive tone. “There is no argument here. Just some harsh truths. Come here and let me look at you some more, mon chou. I have heard an endless array of tales about you. Let us see if you match the stories, and of course, drink more champagne.”
“That sounds lovely...” Trevor began, picking a slow pace back to the table. He did not sit just yet, instead looking over the two demons carefully, grey-blues darting side to side as if sizing them up or comparing them against one another. Alucard was not sure how he felt about that, nor did he feel like he'd want to know where he fell when measured against his Vampyre Master. “It does not seem quite fair though. I do not know anything about you. Where you hail from? Were you born Moroi, or turned? When, if so? There is a beautiful chain around your neck that keeps catching the light. I wonder what hangs from it?”
Joachim gave Alucard a curious look before returning his gaze to the Hunter. With another small wave, he bid the brunette to sit by his side, which Trevor did. The sole solace Alucard could find in the Hunter's newfound fascination being that Trevor had chosen to sit between Dhampyre and Vampyre. Still technically next to Alucard, he could argue. Joachim was already pulling the little strung ring free from out it's hiding place against his skin to show the Hunter. The ornate little ring Alucard had never really taken notice of other then to register the Vampyre never seemed to take the thing off. He still didn't, instead forcing Trevor to lean in close to admire it.
“May I touch it?” Trevor asked, to which Joachim hesitated before acquiescing. “It's got such intricate details. Someone worked very hard on this. This was a gift from someone, correct?” The Hunter nodded to himself when he was convinced he'd guessed accurately.
“The monster who turned me into what I am gave it to me.” Joachim divulged. “Stealing me out of my bed when I was a tiny boy, my Master chose to keep me as a plaything for himself and the court. Sweet Walter went through moods. When he got tired of enjoying me in all the stages of youth he turned me after an accident so that he could preserve my 'beauty', he'd claimed, and so that I would be useful beyond his appetite and games. A millennia after serving as his armies Commander, dear Walter had another mood, and I was then his favourite to punish. Exquisite torture, that mood. Yet another mood overcame my Master and he saw fit to leave me to earn his love or to rot.”
Oh no... Alucard stiffened in place.
“That is...” Trevor trailed off, disturbed. “Why are you keeping such a thing?”
“It is a symbol of our love, mon chou. I was his slave and he my Master. My life is to serve Walter's desires.” While Trevor shifted back in the face of this sudden fanaticism, Joachim was in far too deep to take notice. “Sweet Walter only wanted me to be perfect. His pains and punishments were to encourage me to be my best, Little One. He put me in that prison of water to prove to him my love was so pure, I would walk through that agony worse than a thousand deaths. Only then would I have been worthy of him and he accept me back. Worthy of all the years my Master spent educating and correcting my endless faults. Of bending me until I broke and moulding my being to fit his needs. I just had to walk out there to prove it to him. That's all I had to do.”
Eyes wide, Trevor attempted to subtly move away a few more inches but Joachim caught his wrists and held the Hunter in place. With no escape, Trevor steeled his nerves and instead asked in a tentative voice. “Where is this Walter right now?”
All things considered, Trevor had been thus far fairly lucky in his interactions with the Vampyre. Joachim had been more or less sociable and 'normal' around the Hunter. Trevor had not seen the full blown bouts of insanity Julius or Yoko had been subjected to. That Alucard skirted in every exchange by purposely avoiding anything that could be tangentially connected to the Walter topic. He'd never asked about the jewellery around the Vampyre's neck for precisely this reason. There was no way to know if it was connected to Walter Bernhard. One just did not bring up the Walter subject in the presence of the fanatical disciple of the first Lord of the Castle. One did not ask Joachim any personal questions because who the fuck knew what could be attached to the Walter Bernhard topic.
“He is with me, of course.” Joachim replied in an aggressively earnest fashion. “I keep him in my room with me always. I need to protect him until I can walk through that prison of water for him. I need to show him I am worthy of his love. I need to get to the Castle so I can do this for him. He wants me to.” The Vampyre stood suddenly, the Force of Will pushing the off-guard Trevor away sending the Hunter toppling back into Alucard's arms. “Why am I here? Poor sweet Walter is all alone in my room. I should return to him. He'll be so lonely without me.”
Repeating that final phrase like a mad mantra, Joachim levitated, intent on returning to his long dead Master. Only Alucard's swift reaction to leap from his place at the table to open the glass door kept the Vampyre from shattering it on his desperate flight back to the Lost Commune.
When the demon vanished into the night sky and Dhampyre could no longer feel his aura in the air, he spared a glance back at the stunned Hunter, still flat on his ass where Alucard had dropped him. In some small way, it was sort of comforting to know that even Trevor Christopher Belmont could not handle Joachim at maximum zealotry.
The bewildered Hunter took stock of himself, patting his body down like he had expected to be wounded from the exchange, before finally shaking his head and meeting Alucard's eyes. “Adrian... What is Joachim doing with this Walter... in his bedroom?”
Alucard gave a long sigh before he indulged the Hunter's morbid curiosity. “Walter is a severed preserved head right now. Joachim keeps the head in his bedroom. He keeps a few severed preserved heads in his bedroom.” He explained emotionlessly. “I do not know what he does with Walter or the other heads in the privacy of that space because I have never asked. I never will ask. I don't need to know what he does with them. Nobody, as far as I am concerned, needs to know what he does with them.”
Trevor nodded in agreement. “I am very concerned right now that I hugged him back. I do not want to be a preserved head in a room having who knows what done towards it.”
That caused him to snort a laugh. “For what it's worth, I think you share my immunity now. I believe he's accepted you.”
“That's not reassuring at all, no. Sorry.” The Hunter shot back. “Say... This Walter wouldn't happen to be the the same one my ancestor Leon defeated? The same one your father took the stones from?”
“Walter Bernhard, yes. The same one.”
The Hunter frowned and stared hard. “This is very contrived, don't you think?”
“What are you talking about, Trevor?”
“Just all the chance connections. I go missing and wind up in this country, across the sea. You happen to be in this same country. A relative of Sypha happens to be in this same country. She is betrothed to some weapon-smith you mention you only met because he gathers materials you need. You are friends with the Vampyre in the waterways Leon chronicled in his journals. That Vampyre was defeated by my ancestor. That same Vampyre helped look for me at your behest... the son of the man who used my ancestor to steal Walter Bernhard's stones. The man who became Dracula. Who is dead. The Castle that is gone, you said, finally master-less. The witch coven you're looking for was using my blood to cast some tendril into the Void it is banished unto. All these interconnecting points. It is too much to be anything but by design, right? You have to think so too?”
“Trevor...” Alucard faltered. “Sometimes things just... happen. There's not always a rhyme or reason. I find there isn't most of the time, to be honest.”
“I'd like to believe there is a reason my children are on the other side of the world from me at this moment. That there is some purpose I wound up right here with you right now.”
“I would too...” The Dhampyre offered simply. “I hope you find one that you can live with.”
After a moment of stillness, the Hunter finally picked himself off the ground and closed the distance between them. He opened his arms in an invitation Alucard quietly stepped into to accept. It was a warm embrace. Almost apologetic, though Alucard could not seem to find a reason why Trevor would feel the need to apologize. When the embrace lasted longer than he'd anticipated, the Dhampyre came to realize he was pensive and distraught, and Trevor intended to hold him until he stopped being so pathetically vulnerable.
“I'm sorry, Adrian. I was not trying to take my frustration out on you again.”
“What?” He began but comprehension soon followed. “No, I didn't think you... I'm not upset about that. I am just...”
“Well... I'm sorry I did anyways. Also, I am sorry to witness that your second oldest friend is so... sick. He needs help.”
In little more than a breath, Alucard agreed. “Yeah.”
Not quite satisfied with his guarded responses, Trevor tried to look at his face from where he was fitted against the Dhampyre's chest, but Alucard turned his head just enough to obscure the Hunter's vision. How could he tell the Hunter the true cause of his fallen mood? Joachim's sublime precision to distract now gone, he was left with a broken resolve, an increasingly suspicious potentially six hundred year old friend, and a cold storage unit full of evidence he'd lost all will to use. What am I going to do? He lamented. Tonight had been the night. Everything had just naturally lined up in such a fashion he could break the news. Trevor would have refused to believe him. He would have been angry and confused before the hurt and heartbreak seeped in the cracks. But Alucard had been ready to weather that. He'd had the proof, patience and compassion to guide Trevor through this. The memory of the night's exhilaration and wonder would have still been imprinted on the Hunter. Even in the grief that would follow, his body and mind would still have the ghost of those pleasant new memories within. The knowledge that there was more than his old life to be found in the great beyond. Trevor would have been okay... if he had told him tonight. The moment was... It was too late.
“You are shaking.” Trevor murmured. “Will you tell me what is wrong, Adrian?”
A braver, smarter demon would have taken a page right out of Joachim's book and flown out the glass door after the Vampyre. He could do it. Shift into a bat and be gone. Return when he was composed as if nothing had ever happened. But he was a needy and greedy demon instead. He couldn't step away from Trevor's embrace as long as the Hunter was offering it. Even if it would be his undoing.
“Let's go...” The Hunter urged gently, pushing him towards his bed. Alucard could give no resistance when Trevor lay them down, allowing the Dhampyre to curl up with his head under the Hunter's chin. The heartbeat he'd spent mornings listening to on their long journey was beating faster than his memory recalled. “It will be all right, whatever it is. Even if it's not all right, we're here together. We'll make it all right in the end. I promise.”
“I hope so...” His voice was even smaller than he felt.
The Hunter continued to try and sooth him through touch, and while he was appreciative, nothing but the truth could lift the weight from him and he already knew the moment for truth had passed. Then Trevor, playing true to his nature and that of all the Belmonts before and after him, cut right through the murky mire of doubts and emotions to strike at the heart.
“You were trying to tell me something right before Joachim came knocking on your door.” Trevor's voice was a whisper, but his certainty was fierce. “It was very important to you that you tell me. You had that posture you adopt when you are worried. Will you tell me now?”
“I...” Alucard tried. The Void knows he tried. But he broke instead.
He'd meant to be here this night holding Trevor Belmont's shattered pieces in place. Just like he'd promised and failed to do in the past. Like he had been prepared to do until a scant handful of minutes prior.
But he broke.
Heaving uncontrollable sobs.
And Trevor... Trevor Belmont was now the one holding him together. Of all the unfair and blackly comedic circumstances, the poor unaware Hunter soothed him through his tears. The tears that rightly belonged to Trevor. It was his tragedy Alucard wept for. He was such a greedy pathetic demon. He'd stolen Trevor's tears, and when he ran out of those, he wept his own self loathing ones. Once there was nothing left inside him to weep, he simply lay nestled by Trevor's embrace in a stupor. Still as the dead. Listening to that steady heartbeat that now synced up with his memories of it's rhythm. That resting slow march that seemed to make his own slow down to march alongside. Two calm heartbeats in stride.
“I had a lot of fun today, Adrian.” Trevor's voice ghosted past his ear. His breath felt in his hair. “I was also scared for a minute when your friend had his episode. Now my heart aches that you are so troubled. I felt every one of those things to full intensity for the first time in I can't recall how long. I may not remember my captivity, but I remember how long it felt. How awfully cold and dark and lonely it felt.”
“Trevor...”
“No matter what, I want you to know that I love you. No matter what. You gave me back my life. If you need to tell me something you think I don't want to hear... When you're ready you can tell me. I can't and won't promise I will make it easy, or that I am not going react poorly and say something you won't want to hear... But when it's said and done, I will always come back to this point. Where I love you, no matter what.”
“I love you more than anything.” The Dhampyre choked up.
“I know.”
“If I don't get up and leave right now, I am not going to be able to, Trevor. That line you set is going to blur. I want to be close to you so terribly.”
The Hunter inhaled slowly, taking a moment to run his fingers through Alucard's hair. Not solely in a soothing way, though the touch would always bring him comfort. It was instead how Trevor had combed through his locks when they'd snuck just outside camp. How he'd done whilst they were tangled in the sheets of his childhood home. That knowing familiar touch of a lover that intended to elicit a pleasured sigh. Intended to cause the small hairs on the back of one's neck to rise in attention. Intended to let one know they were indeed desired and loved.
The touch nearly broke him again.
“Tonight there is no line.”
The statement nearly stopped his heart.
The Hunter rolled him onto his back and climbed over him, hands pressed down on the mattress to either side of his head. Trevor was searching his face for some sign of distress or reluctance. As if he would ever consider or be capable of denying the brunette's advances. Like a man lost in the desert stumbling across an oasis, he reached out apprehensively to run his hands along Trevor's sides, terrified as the aforementioned cliched desert wanderer, that he would find his salvation was only a cruel illusion. Trevor was real, however, and he was lowering himself over Alucard to allow the Dhampyre easier access to touch. To assure himself what was happening was real.
“Sypha...” Alucard voiced weakly. She was dead. Long dead. But not to Trevor. Not yet.
“Sypha is smarter than both of us combined. She's not blind either. She knows exactly why I went to the woods every Sunday. I am a grown man making a decision knowing that it may hurt her, and I am going to tell her everything I do here tonight. I will live with the consequences.”
“Maybe she'll be into the idea.” Alucard joked, also weakly. One day he'd try to tell Trevor he'd had a similar conversation with the Mage, and that she had not outright rejected the notion. He doubted the Hunter would believe the convenience.
“You were always her favourite. It would certainly remove a lot of heartache and boundaries.” The Hunter agreed seriously. As if he'd considered the idea as well. More than once, it seemed. Pulling away, Trevor sat back to straddle his hips, looking down still with that grim seriousness in his eyes, but a small affectionate smile softening the gaze.
His hands picked at the Dhampyre's belt undoing the buckle and sliding the leather free at a painstakingly slow pace. Alucard could only watched transfixed as the Hunter examined the craftsmanship of the leather-work and then deftly used it to loop around his neck and pull the Dhampyre up for a kiss. Lips and tongue just as he recalled in the finest dreams. Gentleness guided by strength, drawing him in to drown, only to breath life into him anew. Once Trevor was sure Alucard had the wherewithal to keep kissing him he discarded the belt so that those nimble fingers could pop open each button on his shirt and slide the garment back down the Dhampyre's shoulders. True to form, the Hunter made a pleased sound as his hands traced the slopes of his muscles on display, the appreciative noise sending a bolt of lighting straight down to his cock. This too Trevor noticed, perched as he was directly on top of the aching organ.
In all the years he had been alive, no one had ever looked at him the way Trevor Belmont did. The way Trevor was looking at him now. Being desired was such a powerful drug. His weepy mood melted away in favour of a sense of awe. Just the raw realization that he was wanted, coveted, and loved. Seizing upon the emotion, he reversed their positions, pushing the Hunter into the mattress below him and tearing the shirt straight off his body. In spite of Trevor's care to undo his, he may have also torn his own garment in the desperate need to get as little fabric between them as possible, as swiftly as possible. Ruined shirts were hardly a concern once he felt the Hunter's hands skimming the waist of his jeans, feeling his abdominal definition and tracing with his thumbs the V-shaped cuts that vanished beneath his waistband.
“I may tease you for it, but your vanity is well earned, Adrian. You are the real sight to behold.”
Alucard let out a breathy laugh. Somewhere between relief and release. Compliments about such 'shallow' notions of beauty were hard to come by from out Trevor's lips, so to think he would be getting one six hundred years after the fact... “Do you feel this?” He asked, guiding Trevor's hand up along his body, ensuring every ripple was traversed until he settle upon a spot just over his heart. “This scar. Do you know what it is from?” Trevor shook his head and Alucard was more than pleased to remind him. “The first time we met. I challenged you and we ended in a draw. I had your throat, you had my heart.”
“I won that duel.” The Hunter insisted.
“I had your throat.” He reminded the brunette. “I could have tore your larynx out.”
The Hunter shook his head slowly, almost patronizingly. “Only one of us walked out of that crypt with what they had set out to get, remember?” He grinned. “You wanted us to turn around and go home. That didn't happen.” Continuing, the Hunter's grin grew wolfish, and then Alucard could only say, coveting. “I wanted you, and I walked out of there with you in hand. So I won.”
“You were such an impertinent little brat. I think I fell in love with you that very night. You were in my shirt drying your hair by the fire. My clothes were clinging to your skin and I couldn't take my eyes off the rivulets of water running down your chest. I had never wanted to be a piece of cloth so badly.”
Trevor didn't say anything for a while, although Alucard could understand everything the Hunter's eyes conveyed as he looked up longingly at the Dhampyre nestled neatly between his thighs. “Fetra.”
“I'm sorry?”
“The city of Fetra. Where we got snowed in for those few days while I had that nasty fever. That's when I finally believed you weren't just chasing me because you were a Desire demon with a fixation that would go away once the next person caught your fancy.” Trevor finally revealed. “That's when I realized I did want more than just the temporary companionship and the games, and the pleasure of having you feed on me. I didn't think I was allowed that luxury though. My wife was barely in the ground and I was the man who would defeat Dracula. So I... buried the feeling. Not that my efforts were a success, it just kept growing and I didn't know how we were to make it work as a human and a Moroi demon... When we parted... The last time I saw you standing all alone at the edge of the woods...”
“Trevor...”
“I didn't care that I wasn't sure how to make it work. I was in love with you completely and you deserved more than being left alone at the edge of the forest. But you told me that you needed time. You weren't ready.”
“Trevor I...”
“I loved you so completely in that moment, how could I force you to stay if you needed to go? So I let you go all alone to fade back into those trees. But I keep thinking... I should have forced you to stay. No matter how much I know that would have been selfish of me, and knowing by confessing this that I am wishing my daughters away every time it has crossed my mind.” The Hunter turned away, almost grimacing. “I don't deserve either Sypha or you, Adrian.” Grey-blue eyes found gold. “But I still selfishly want you.” Deft hands were undoing the front of his jeans, a familiar warm palm sliding against his straining flesh locked inside. Blue eyes were locked on yellow. “I do always want you, Adrian.”
As the admission left those sweet honeyed lips, the Dhampyre felt his body jump to respond to the plea. Urging to give Trevor exactly what he was asking for. And why not, gods and demons be damned? He'd waited six hundred years to find out this was still a possibility. After everything he'd been through, didn't Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș deserve a win? For that matter, he was no longer the inexperienced demon following the lead of a nineteen year old human. The years and lovers he had taken on in between had each tempered his instinct, helped establish self control, and refined his ability to trade short term pleasure for long term ecstasy. He would not give this impertinent Hunter the easy route to the end he was seeking. If the Hunter was willing, then fuck it, he was going wring out every last ounce of wants and needs he'd built up holding a candle for Trevor the last centuries. He was not going to make it easy for Trevor to get his satisfaction and pretend nothing had happened the next morning. That's not who Alucard was now.
He let the Hunter keep the hand against his aching need because he liked how it felt. It was a promissory sensation of what was to come. Yellow eyes bleeding into red, he hoisted the Hunter's legs up from under the knees both so that he could feel them against his body, and so that Trevor could see when he used his claws to shred the garments covering them clean off his body in a deliberate show. The man's undergarments went with them, and Alucard took note, but did not focus on the fact that the hunter was slick and eager underneath. The man was going to be that way for a while still. With a slight quirk of his lips he pushed the Hunter back against the pillows, and then the whole lot, human and fabric, against the headboard. Trevor was comfortably nestled in a prison of silk in about more or less the height and angle Alucard needed him for what he had in mind. He locked eyes with the uncertain but undeterred human and crawled slowly up the slender body until he could capture the man's chest between his thighs. Which he did.
Falling forward, he placed his hands comfortably along the headboard and peered down at he Hunter beneath him. “You are so keen to play with it, take it out already.” He suggested, even going so far as to capture the Hunter's spare hand and guide it where it needed to be in order to better comply. He made sure to respond vocally in an encouraging fashion as Trevor freed him, giving languid exploratory strokes. As if the Hunter was re-familiarizing himself with the swollen organ. Alucard supposed he was, only the Dhampyre did not have the familiar in mind. He wanted to try something he'd never gotten from Trevor before. He slid back just a touch, taking hold of his own cock and pumped a few time to get himself properly lubricated, before allowing the weight of it to rest on the Hunter's chest, between pectoral muscles.
He took a moment to enjoy the sensation of gliding along the small cleft of the human's skin in that area. Perhaps a game to play later, but not what he wanted right now. “You know what I would like Trevor?” The Hunter's rapt attention made him confident, fuelling his already bloated ego. Alucard revelled in attention, he would be the first to admit the fact, and here he was playing to a captive audience. “You are such a good kisser. I can't stop thinking about how your lips must feel down here.” He stroked himself once more for emphasis. “Would you... ever consider doing that for me?”
The mere suggestion tinged the Hunter's face with a rosy glow and drew an self-conscious depreciating laugh. “I-I... I have never...”
“I know.” Alucard purred, cupping the Hunter's face. “Such a delightful experience I know you'll have only ever given me. It would by my pleasure alone, courtesy of your attractive little pout.”
“I do not have a pout.” Trevor, still pink hued, pouted.
“A little bit of one, yes.” Alucard insisted, rubbing his thumb across the pale plush lips in question. With only a gentle bit of pressure the digit breached the velvet gates, and as if by instinct, the Hunter closed his eyes and sucked. Oh, the world of possibilities. The Dhampyre shuddered with anticipation as the pad of his thumb glided over that nimble tongue below. “Look now, Trevor. You know what to do.”
“Seriously...” The Hunter sighed, releasing his probing thumb. “I didn't say no, just so we are clear. Fair is fair, and I have been on the receiving end from you.”
The Dhampyre shook his head, rebuffing the proposed logic succinctly. “I'm asking you to do it because I think you want to, and already know I would like to let you. Fairness has nothing to do with the request, only desire and pleasure.”
Left without an excuse to hide behind, he expected the Hunter to flounder a little, insistent the man always was that he was not - for lack of a better word - a slut. Instead, he was rewarded pleasantly with the return of Trevor's hands to his body, and another's breath cooling his fevered flesh as the Hunter puzzled out how best to proceed with this new task. Alucard stayed still and silent so as not to distract the Hunter's thoughts as he gathered his courage and made the commitment. Just a slow drag along the side of the shaft to start, to test the waters. The Dhampyre's grip on the headboard was starting to chip the varnish as he forced himself to remain still and allow the Hunter time to explore at his own pace. Uncertain and hesitant licks slowly grew bolder, more assured, sweetly and agonizingly concluded with the Hunter's lips finally closing over the head.
Thankfully, the sound of the headboard cracking did not deter the Hunter.
The lights played off the strands of auburn hair in quite mesmerizing ways as the head below bobbed away at a leisurely pace, Alucard thought. At last the Dhampyre felt it appropriate to let free the moan he'd been holding at bay, his whole being trembling with the release and realization of a desire he'd always regret not following through upon. Practice would make perfect, but his toe curling pleasure was derived not in the particular skill of the blowjob being received but rather in the knowledge of who was the one giving it. It would be a lie to say otherwise; This one was a hundred percent for Alucard's satisfaction alone.
Lovingly, he gently placed a hand on the side of Trevor's face, guiding him into a rhythm and position that allowed another inch of Alucard to glide in and out between those slightly reddening lips, mindful not to choke his partner by pushing too far too soon. His hips started to thrust in small movements in time, and it was enough. The pleasure built up steadily, but when those pale blue eyes looked up to check in, the image of Trevor swallowing his cock while staring into his eyes pushed him over the threshold. He hadn't meant to cum in the Hunter's mouth. Not the first time, anyway.
The Hunter took it surprisingly well. No coughing or spitting or outward signs of indignation. His eyes had widened, but he swallowed it down and even continued to give soft strokes and laps of tongue as the Dhampyre's member calmed down. “That was different.” He concluded on the whole matter.
With a victorious cry, Alucard slid back down and captured the Hunter's mouth with his own. He could taste himself in the kiss, which yeah, that was different, but he could certainly get used to it considering the activities that lead up to such a circumstance. His hand reached back blindly and found the Hunter's aching straining state just as he'd left it, and was satisfied Trevor was ready for what he next had in mind. Teasing with firm but slow strokes as he deepened the kiss, he mused all the while about how until just moments earlier he'd intended to fuck Trevor within an inch of his life. It seemed now, however, that what he wanted most of all was to feel the Hunter inside him. His hand currently gripped the very tool that had taken his virginity so long ago. It seemed almost poetic to have that same instrument fill the hollowness it has first carved out inside of him, right? Alucard thought so.
Trevor watched him pull back and tug at his own clothing just enough to clear the way for what he needed, that's all he wanted. With a hungry growl, the Hunter reached out and tore the denim free. Impressive feat of strength, for sure, but the hunger and impatience on Trevor's part was what truly set Alucard's passions ablaze. He leaned back on his hands and allowed the Hunter full view, ego feeding on the singular attention to his every movement, and lowered, sinking slowly down to the Hunter's organ until he'd hit the hilt, unable to wait a moment longer.
Eyes closed to enjoy the physical stimulation more fully, he could only feel the hands caressing his legs, climbing his torso, gripping the back of his neck. Could only imagine what Trevor looked like pulling him back close, into a kiss much different than before. This one lingered and savoured. Though still, Alucard felt the twitching inside his body as the Hunter's own responded in kind to the emotional connection. It felt incredible to be so coveted and adored. Hands roved the landscape of his back and gripped at his hips, wordless pleas Alucard could not ignore. He begun to move, hips rolling for a moment before his thighs joined in. Rise and fall, deliberate and with purpose. Breath and gasps shared in the small space in between kisses.
Through sensation alone he could feel the Hunter nearing his limit, and reached back to grip the twitching cock by the base until it settled down, much to Trevor's dismay. Alucard ignored the aggravated noise, moving in more shallow motions to still maintain his own building wave of pleasure without giving Trevor over to his own. His own cock was nearly back to full and fine form by the second time he had to stall the Hunter's orgasm. Loudly, he moaned, sinking deep to enjoy the second instance of solo ecstasy thus far. Prostate teased into releasing streams of fluid even as he grew more erect by the moment.
“Maybe we do need to talk about fairness.” Trevor all but panted, eyes glued upon the white ribbons each hip thrust drew from Alucard's tip.
“Perhaps.” The Dhampyre humoured before shoving the Hunter back down flat and pulling free of the poor abused manhood he'd just used as a dildo so selfishly. “That's a good boy.” He sighed, beyond smitten as the Hunter let the Dhampyre feed him his cock again, annoyed twitch of an eye at being called 'boy' aside. The technique was already improving, but he didn't intend to engage in the activity for too long. Mostly he had just been curious if Trevor would let him do it again, and was thrilled that yes, Trevor not only would service him in this fashion, but would let him ask for it in such a brazen, possessive fashion. “All right, I'll consider being fair then.”
“Please do.” The Hunter responded in an exasperated tone. “Whoa!”
With a simple hook under the knee, he dragged the whining Hunter to the edge of the bed and knelt down between his dangling legs. With a pause for thought, he narrowed his eyes at the bewildered face looking back at him. “I feel like you're going to try and cheat if we just leave that in the open air.” He surmised with a small gesture towards the still twitching eager cock on display. So neglected, the poor thing.
“Cheat at—Hey!” Trevor squealed as he was unceremoniously flipped over.
Satisfied with the view, the Dhampyre tilted the Hunter's hips and leaned in. Fingers massaging circles into the taut gluteal muscles and beyond, Alucard probed the tightest ring of muscle with his tongue before pushing inside. He ignored the somewhat strangled sounds of disbelief Trevor made, concentrating instead of ensuring everything was as wet and slick as the poor Hunter was going to need for the final desire on Alucard's hit-list. Even going so far as to run his hands along that trapped shaft for a stroke or two in order to pick up enough pre-cum to slather in place. Pushing two fingers inside he gauged the Hunter's readiness but concernedly found his body rigid with tension. Looking over the flesh lay out before him, the Dhampyre could both see and smell Trevor's sudden anxiety.
With a soothing sound, he let the Hunter's thigh go and the man free to crawl away, drawing his knees up to his chest as he sat back to half-look at Alucard, mumbling a stream of apologies so quickly strung together not a single one could be understood. “Hush now.” Alucard whispered, climbing over to settle by Trevor's side. The Hunter let him place his arms around the smaller man and lay his head against the Dhampyre's chest. “You don't have to let me fuck you. I should have asked first.” He soothed. “I apologize my selfish enthusiasm has caused you a fright.”
“I am not afraid.” The Hunter murmured back, automatically. Defiant to a fault. “We just never... Not this way.”
“It's fine.”
“No it's not fine!” The Hunter spat but then buried himself deeper into the Dhampyre's embrace as if afraid the outburst would cause Alucard to give him some personal space. Had he not clung on so tightly, Alucard probably would have chosen that response. “What did it... feel like? The first time. Do you remember?”
“How could I forget?” He replied in a soft soothing tone. “It was a little frightening at first, but I trusted you. It felt full, almost uncomfortably so... then it burned... like overusing a muscle. But after that passed, I just felt good. Warm shivering waves spreading out from every thrust. It felt so good.” He confessed. “I am so happy I got to feel that again tonight, but that's not to say you need to feel that good in that way. I can use my hands or my lips if you'd like to give you a little taste of fairness.”
“But I do trust you...” Trevor frowned. “I love you.”
“You can love me and still have healthy boundaries. These things are not mutually exclusive.”
“Not tonight.” Trevor reiterated. “There are no lines tonight.” When Alucard made no move and said nothing he insisted. “I want you to have me. I just need to relax. That's all.”
“Just relax, hmm?” Alucard shrugged a shoulder and coaxed the Hunter into his lap. Intending to go no further than that, he simply let the head of his erection brush against the brunette's entrance, with just enough pressure to unmistakably make clear the next step was going to be a cock in his ass if that's what he really wanted. “You are the opposite of relaxed.” He advised the freshly tensed human in his grip. “Let's indulge this idea, however. Perhaps turn around and lean up against the headboard.”
“You broke the headboard earlier.”
“Cracked it, not broke it. It'll hold. Then it will be just you and the wall...”
“And the broken headboard...”
“And that cracked headboard, as well as your body and mind. You won't have to worry about me seeing your expression or what you're thinking. It'll be just you and your comfort level to work through.” Kneeling back to give the Hunter a moment to get into place and take a few breaths, he did his best to telegraph exactly where he was and what he was doing without voicing anything that may break the other man's war within, by caressing his back and thighs, broadly before gradually zeroing in on where he was going to need to be if they were going to do this. The headboard was now cracking – cracking not breaking – under Trevor's grip, as he settled into place, resting his sex just along the cleft of the Hunter's ass and gauged his reaction. It... was not promising. “It will be painful for you if you are like this.” He informed gently. “Why are you so intent on doing this now?”
“I have to know, Adrian. I just need to know what could have been.” With a semi-defeated sigh, Trevor leaned back into him, body flush against his chest and reached high to thread his fingers into the baby hairs along the back of his neck. The tension could be felt leeching out of his body, and from the advantage of added height, Alucard watched a spark flash in the Hunter's far-off gaze. Lips spread into a mischievous grin. Like a boy about to get up into all kinds of trouble, the Hunter ceased toying with his white locks and instead pulled his own chestnut to the side. “Bite me.” He commanded. “It will relax me.”
Alucard raised a brow. “Being devoured by a Vampyre relaxes you?”
“Being bitten by my Dhampyre, does.” Trevor replied defensively. “Come on. Who says no to free food?”
“I feel like I am back on the roller coaster...” He sighed but what the hell, might as well try, right? Trevor was right. Only an idiot would say no to free lunch. But he wasn't just going to bite the Hunter. That was not how he fed on Trevor; He'd decided that much a long time ago in a burnt up husk of a village called Yomi. “It's been a while.” Alucard murmured, kissing the flesh of the Hunter's neck, trailing his hands along his arms and back up again, feeling the final remnants of rigidity fade away. A pliant little human left in his arms all but waiting to be devoured. “Do you mind if I leave a mark others will see? It will be hard not to at this angle.”
Boneless and meek, Trevor shook his head. “I'll wear your brand with pride.”
The reply drew a purr from the Dhampyre. “Very well... You remember you will lose your strength, yes? I will catch you so you don't hurt yourself.” Trevor nodded dreamily, caught in the Desire demon's spell. “Trevor... When I catch you I am going to possess you. I will be on you as well as inside you. I am going to make you mine. You are okay with that? I need you to say it out loud for me.”
“I want you to, Adrian. Put your mark on me.”
A very simple request to grant.
Dhampyre fangs breached flesh, releasing the sweet honey known as Trevor Belmont's blood that drove Alucard's hunger and desire into overdrive. Quicker than expected the strength in the Hunter's legs gave way, but it was no problem at all to hold him up and savour that sugary taste perhaps a touch longer than necessary. He placed the Hunter's forearms along the headboard so that his forehead would rest on them instead of the hard curvature of wood, and put the pliant docile thing in place, knocking a knee a little wider to the side so as to allow him the perfect access. Just as he'd promised, the slick head of his cock found it's mark and he pushed into the Hunter. Mindful it was the first time, he made only minor movements for the first few minutes, allowing Trevor's body to get used to the sensation of being stirred from his very bowels, and for his higher faculties to bleed back in from the dreamscape of his Dhampyric spell. The closer Trevor returned to his senses, the faster he picked up the pace, knowing from experience he was now around the point where Alucard would be starting to feel incredible were the shoe on the other foot.
“Are you still okay with this?” He asked the softly moaning, mewling human completely at his mercy. “I would like you to give me some sign of consent.” The Hunter, who had slipped from his perch along the headboard to brace himself against the mess of pillows and mattress under the assault, seemed entirely incapable of putting words to voice. Before Alucard decided to pull out and get some kind of positive communication between them, the Hunter pushed himself up and back once more, flush against his torso. With a trembling hand he found the one Alucard used to grip his hip and brought it around to place a deliberate firm kiss along the top. “I'm glad to hear it.”
The matter of consent settled, he eased the Hunter back down into a comfortable position mostly on his side, but hooked one of the brunette's legs over his shoulder so he could watch and enjoy each and every gasp and moan escaping Trevor's lips. The cock wagging like a dog's tail happy to see it's owner was just a bonus. So was the Hunter's hands splayed against his belly as he thrust into brunette's waiting body. Not to push or pull him away, but just to have some point of connection that wasn't jack-hammering away in the general direction of his prostate. Which speaking of...
“Oh, my love. I'm afraid to tell you that your whole world is about to change.” It was probably a pointless warning, as he could see the Hunter's lidded pleasure addled features come to sharp attention. Certain he knew where to leave his second mark forever inside the Hunter's body, he dropped the leg in favour of lifting the Hunter's hips. There were any number of signs he was in the right place one could take. The full body shudders, streams of fluid spurting out with each deep plunge, or even what sounded like French prayers or curses drawn out between endless moans. “You really do make the best noises in the throes of passion.”
Petulance long gone, the Hunter seemed at a loss what to do with himself. His hands ran the length of his own body, eliciting hisses of pleasure as he passed erogenous or otherwise sensitive zones. He balled fists in his own hair and tossed his head from side to side. Seemingly at his limit Trevor at last reached out to touch his perpetually leaking member, seeking relief from the ceaseless barrage of pleasure. When Alucard stopped him from the act, the stricken expression in response was so close to tears the Dhampyre was nearly guilted into letting him have his way.
“Shh... don't despair.” He soothed, curling over the Hunter and placing the smaller hands on his shoulders. “Just hold onto me and let it happen. You're so close, I promise. Its almost over.” Thankfully from the Hunter's perspective no doubt, the promise was correct. He watched his French fleur transcend the physical place they embodied together, far off into the lands where only a teeth shattering hardcore prostate orgasm could take a man. The very sight of Trevor naked and with needs that could only be satisfied by his own flesh brought about the Dhampyre's third orgasm of the eve. Reluctant to break their union, he just lay them down together, spooning the smaller man, his softening member still tucked safely inside the other. He pet his delirious lover until some semblance of sense came back to the world. “And here you are. Back in one piece.”
“Why is it...” Trevor's voice was hoarse and weak. On account of all the singing he'd been doing, evidently. “Why the hell is that still hard?” He bemoaned, staring at his own still full erection.
Alucard tried not to, but failed miserably, at holding in his laugh. “You didn't need your cock for that ride.” He managed to get out. The Hunter let out such a pathetic little whine and pushed back into his embrace, encouraging the Dhampyre to wrap his arms more tightly around. “Do you want me to take care of that for you too? It would be my pleasure.”
The Hunter scoffed at the suggestion and wriggled free. “You were still inside me.” He made note as he rolled the Dhampyre onto his back and climbed back on top of Alucard. Exhausted and spent, they were now back where they had been at the start of the encounter. Just one neglected state of arousal, and start of an early sunrise light peeking in through the window the only difference. “How is your Vampyric stamina these days?” Loaded question fired off.
“I am much better than you remember me, Trevor. I will wear you right down to a raw nub if you let me.” He threatened. “So why do you ask?”
The brunette, pale, sweaty, weak as he was, still managed to cast a fierce sneer down in his direction. His fingers rolled the Dhampyre's nipples playfully as the human's hips slid the abused forgotten erection against his stomach. “Wear me down, Adrian.” Came the low, husky command. “I want to take that roller coaster ride again.”
There may have been a record broken that morning from flaccid to half-mast. Clawed hands acquiesced, forcing the Hunter down so he could plumb those depths once more.
“You sure about that stamina?” Trevor teased. “You feel a lot smaller than before.”
“Give it a minute.” He hissed. “You wanton whore.”
Trevor didn't bother, already moving his hips back and forth, pressing into his still hardening length and using his abdominal definition as a masturbatory aid. Which at that point, Alucard decided to 'fuck it all'. He lay back to simply enjoy watching the Hunter ride him into the sunset... well sunrise, technically. He only graciously assisted near the end when the waves of pleasure made it too hard for the Hunter to maintain the pace and rhythm he'd set up. Only out of the kindness of his heart. It was probably why he'd also given that woefully neglected cock it's much deserved final strokes of relief. In the end it was a mostly clean, if still explosive in sound, orgasm. Dhampyre dick had milked the Hunter's seed dry. He considered that one a win in his books.
When he next opened his eyes the brunette was sitting by his side, watching him with a tilted head, tracing mindless patterns on his flesh with his fingers. I swear if Trevor wants to go another round I am going to have to bite him and just say we did. Still, fatigue aside, he found himself reaching out to reciprocate the mindless touch of a lover. The return to tenderness made the Hunter blush, and Alucard felt the tinge of melancholia return. The light had grown bright in no time, basking Trevor in a yellow glow. It was no longer night. The line was only gone for the night.
They were back to reality... Yet deep in his heart, Alucard kind of hoped the passion and lovemaking had planted a seed of future possibilities within the Hunter. The ride didn't have to stop here.
“Adrian...” Trevor started after a long comfortable silence. “Will you tell me what was wrong now?”
The Hunter lay down at his bidding, and he curled around the exhausted body next to him. Like they had so many nights so many years ago, he lay his head on Trevor's chest to listen to the calming heartbeat and closed his eyes.
“It can wait.” He whispered his reply. “Everything with us has always been organic. When it's time to tell you, there will be no other choice but to come out and tell you.”
“I will not like this news, will I?”
“No, you will not, I imagine. But I believe we will get through it. I believe so more every day we spend together.”
“...I trust you, Adrian.”
“...I know.”
“I love you.”
“...I know...”
“Then you also know that...”
“...No matter what, you will always come back to loving me.”
“So then don't worry about it. I don't want to see you cry about it anymore, either.”
I can only hope you're telling me the truth, Trevor...
Notes:
I think this chapter is a personal record for length. Did you enjoy the ride?
Chapter 28: Distractions
Chapter Text
August 2037 ~ Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Warmth and comfort enveloped completely, accompanied by the faded scents of sweat, sex and laundered linens. Linens that would need to be laundered again, but that was a thought for a more conscious Dhampyre. Here in the semi-dreamscape, thin slice between reality and all possibility, there was only the feel of familiar flesh and breath. Memories made manifest, by some benevolent entity that had sought to return to a long heartbroken Dhampyre wretch, that which his heart had ached for. Body still humming from midnight exertions, and extremities leaden... In a most satisfying of ways, of course. Balancing on this line between dreams and the world, he self-soothed with promises this was not the last time he would be in this place. It was... permissible to get up and leave. To abide by his lovers 'line' drawn in the sands the poor boy had yet to discover shifted. It would only be for a little while, after all.
So he did just that.
Trevor continued to sleep soundly as he extricated himself from blankets, limbs and tousled hair. Expression relaxed in the fashion of one still chasing his dreams, but hopefully the small faint smile touching his lips meant they were dreams worth chasing. Alucard made him more decent and tucked the covers up around where his own body had formally occupied. Satisfied, he gathered shredded clothing to trash and returned to lay out an outfit for both himself and the still sleeping Hunter. Last night's shirt was only missing two buttons, so that he tossed on the bedpost. It was salvageable.
Before stepping into the shower, a quick scroll through his phone let him know Yoko was 'deep into the witchernet' thus would not be by that day, and that Julius was on a date with Iron Liza and would stop by maybe, depending how things went with the Ice Queen. Alucard shot off a few texts of his own to Hammer requesting some materials, screenshot Julius' message to send Yoko with a green barfing emoji face, and declined an in-person meeting for his liaison work. His very neglected liaison work of late. Finally, becoming self-conscious about standing around naked in his own house, not something he could really say he did on a regular basis, he took that damned shower.
One of life's simplest but most satisfying pleasures, that. Feeling a touch on the luxurious side, he spent a bit of time post wash actually styling his hair so it would curl perfectly in soft coils, and even applied a small amount of that cologne Trevor had mentioned was wasted sitting in his cabinet. He dressed silently and was just in the kitchen filling that routine tall glass of water when the phone vibrating in his pocket preceded the sound of Hammer's jeep pulling into this driveway. Stopping only to open up his office and leave his water glass upon the coffee table, he greeted the man pulling out a large crate from back of his vehicle just in time to help him bring it inside.
“You look great, Genya.” Hammer commented as they shuffled into the office with the plain wooden crate. “You also have great timing. I was literally twenty minutes away, and I have something right up your alley I bought a few months ago. Just on a hunch you would want it for something.”
“You do know what I like.” Alucard mused in return. “Where are my manners, may I get you something to drink, Hammer?” When the vet waved him off with a negative, he simply knelt down and waited for the man to crack open his goods with the crowbar they'd also carried on top. “There is the blessed silver and platinum alloy I wanted.” The metal had a pleasing sheen as Hammer lifted it out. Aside from the base materials, he also had some already combined and smelted into reels of tiny box chain. Purchasing the chain would save Alucard some of the work, for sure, so he agreed to take it as well.
“So, when you asked for some hide suggestions, I had just the thing for you. A while back this hunter was selling pelts, and he'd managed to take down a hydra with very little damage to the broadside of it. The result, my dear connoisseur of weird requests, is this.” Hammer hefted a bundle from out the crate and triumphantly unrolled a near complete skinning of a greater hydra. The lustre of the scale pelt was exquisite, mottled greens and blues glittering like semiprecious gemstones. Easily, twelve feet strips could be cut from the durable leather on display. Seeing Alucard's satisfied expression, Hammer guffawed. “See, I knew you would love it. You always appreciate my best stuff.”
“You are correct, my friend. I simply must have that as well.” Readily agreeing to the at face value seemingly exorbitant, but given the scarcity and quality, fair mark-up price, he continued to dig through Hammer's little crate of wonders for anything else that may catch his eye. With a growing theme in mind now due to the beautiful hydra pelt, he set aside some giant merman and rahab scales, and kept digging. Fairly engrossed in the search for treasure as he was, he did not hear that they had been joined by the Hunter until Hammer made a boisterous pleased sound.
Trevor hovered in the doorway, dressed in the clothes Alucard had picked out, his hair damp from a shower the Dhampyre had also not heard take place. He wore a curious expression, and was a little taken aback by how happy Hammer was to see him, having never been awake during the army vet's many visits to his bedside. He stayed in place as the large strange man came over to shake his hand and pull him into one of those back-slapping bear hugs old friends would trade. The Hunter took this too in stride, but gave Alucard a raised eyebrow look during the sudden hug, expecting some kind of explanation.
“This is Hammer, Yoko's lover.” Alucard introduced, and provided context. “Hammer came to see you while you were sick in the hospital several times but you were never awake each time he swung by.”
“Oh.” Trevor gave a small smile and peered up at the hulking man, before he continued in heavily accented but fairly accurate English. “You are the American. The land with all the large food and the guns. Uncle Sam.”
The Hunter's English was improving at an exceptional rate. If Alucard was his tutor, he'd have been pleased beyond words. But he wasn't, the progress owed solely to Trevor's tenacity and adaptability, and it was just another reminder that soon there wasn't going to be a way to keep anything from Trevor Belmont. A problem to worry over later.
The gross exaggeration and simplification of American culture as defined by an anachronistic Frenchman pleased Hammer to no end. He gave a hearty laugh, clapping the smaller Hunter on the back and nodded. “Uncle Sam, that's right.” And then, to both Alucard's surprise and Trevor's delight, Hammer continued in French. And while Dhampyre still did not understand the French language, he was fairly certain he'd just heard Hammer refer to Trevor as 'Napoleon'.
Continuing to rummage through the crate for goods, Alucard listened to the ongoing exchange between Hammer and Trevor. It sounded pleasant and cordial, although he could tell there were differences in pronunciations and word choices between 15th Century French and Hammer's modern. The differences did not seem to stop them from conversing well enough, and Alucard was kind of a bit shocked and in awe at how fast Trevor actually spoke when conversing in his mother tongue. The sounds of his words running seamlessly and musically along were nothing like the careful and heavily accented way he spoke Romanian or German. While he knew Hammer was warned not to mention dates, current events, or anything that might tip the Hunter off that he was out of his perceived accurate time and place, he was still concerned that he did not know what was being said between the two men. He'd just have to trust Hammer was better at keeping his lips zipped than Yoko.
Again, he was far too preoccupied setting aside the last of the metals and stones that had caught his interest to notice the pair return to his side. Trevor was offering a hand to help him up, which he took just because why would he not take anything Trevor offered him? He followed them to the couch with mild curiosity, but more than pleased Trevor kept holding his hand for the entirety of the small walk. Once seated, Hammer sat on the coffee table and dug out a small box he offered to Alucard.
“I'd like to ask you opinion, since you have such an eye for quality.” Explained Hammer in an uncharacteristically shy way.
Inside was what the Dhampyre expected there to be. A lovingly crafted engagement ring inscribed with runes of protection. Woven within the band, made of the same silver and platinum alloy he'd just purchased, he could sense the enchantment Hammer must have sought out another arcane user to place. A ward against curses and hexes.
“I thought that at the very least, she could bitch-slap a demon with it and cause some damage.” Hammer laughed nervously as Alucard and Trevor looked over the craftsmanship.
“It is very beautiful” Trevor assured the man in that adorably accented unpolished English. “This is for Yoko? She will love it much.”
“I couldn't agree more, Hammer. You could not have chosen a more perfect ring for Yoko. Congratulations ahead of time. Do you know when you are asking her?”
“As soon as we're out of this sweat box and back into Romania. I am kind of working something out with her cousins and immediate family back home. My parents and brothers will fly over. It'll be a big thing, for sure. She likes a spectacle. You are of course invited, and maybe I could even convince you to help out with the pzazz? Jules said he'd be there whether he was invited or not. You're invited too, Jules Junior.” Hammer joked, and thankfully it didn't seem like Trevor was following along as competently as before. The American always moved fast, thought fast and spoke fast. The man accepted his ring, now safely boxed up, and stood just as swiftly, eager to move on to his next hustle. “You know where to send me the money. I don't haggle with friends so flat rate is good. I should probably get out of your hair. Napoleon here says he was going to try and ask you to take him to the beach.”
“Was he, now.” Alucard gave Trevor a sidelong look. “Who was telling him about the beaches, I have to wonder?”
“Ten to one says it was Julius. That's what he's going to retire to; Beach-combing with a metal detector. He's got beach bum written all over him. Hope that Liza's got at least one beach-side property.”
The image of Liza in swimwear gave Alucard a full body shudder. To distract himself from it, he helped Hammer gather up the remainder of the goods and carried the crate back out to the man's jeep as a courtesy. Returning to find the other two men conversing in French once again in his kitchen, he hovered nearby and listened for tone and cadence, determining it to be a far more familiar and comfortable exchange that the previous. Trevor was pulling out a meat pie he had made the day before to give to Hammer, and in his explanation Yoko's name did come up. Alucard knew Yoko liked the Hunter's meat pies, so maybe it had something to do with that. Either way, Hammer was quite appreciative and gave the younger man another one of those bear hugs in parting. With a wave to Alucard, the American was peeling out of his lane way and gone. Just as fast and furious as he'd arrived.
“That was kind of you.” He told the brunette, returning to Romanian. “You spent quite some time baking those pies.”
Trevor gave him a mischievous grin. “Your friend Yoko does not eat properly. She won't eat anything that is good for her. I've been mincing up so many different vegetables and adding them to everything I make so she stays healthy. It's working, so I told Hammer so that he can continue to do the same. A happy healthy wife will make your life a lot easier.”
The admission, likely coming straight from experience, made Alucard chuckle. “Your secret is safe with me.” The girl could use some vitamins and minerals, after all.
The Hunter hummed satisfactorily and asked. “So what is all that wonderful new stuff in your office?”
It was about then that Alucard's brain caught up and he realized Trevor was... Well... It was as if last night hadn't happened at all? He was expecting some awkwardness or a discussion at the least. The Hunter needing to sit and think outside in the garden for hours on end or something to that effect while he processed his guilt and complicity in their – from Trevor's perspective – act of adultery. Instead, he had this warm welcoming creature, friendly in tone and manners. He had Trevor Belmont, his first true friend. The friend who was effortlessly flirtatious somehow unbeknownst to himself. The Dhampyre for sure could have used a discussion about some ground rules, and maybe establishing new or rewriting some old, but having his cake and eating it too was not the worst of the outcomes from last night's affair. Maybe the entire event was just processing in the Hunter's mind and the fallout would come later. But if there was going to be a meltdown, then why had he held his hand so long in the study? Why was he so eager to go back in and have Alucard tell him all about the pretty pelt, scales and alloys? Why was he smiling at the Dhampyre in that playful little way, his body doing that slow sway that mesmerized so many? Why did he smell so good? Not the soap or shampoo, which was pleasant, but so damned exquisite under all of that? Overpoweringly so.
Very suspicious. Alucard surmised. This man is an incubus. I just need to find out what species.
“Adrian?” The little cloying creature prompted.
It was impossible not to indulge such a pretty little thing. He waved the Hunter in the direction of his study and laid out all the pieces he had purchased from Hammer for Trevor's inspection, with particular care of the hydra pelt. The younger man whistled as he touched everything, and that he was pleased with Alucard's choices in turn pleased the Dhampyre immensely. “These are what I am going to make your new whip out of.” He revealed with a bit of giddiness. “It will be one of a kind.” The news broadened the smile on the Hunter's face, which again, increased the size of his own. They were clearly in some weird satisfied feedback loop, but Alucard didn't mind so much. “I think it will be uniquely beautiful when I am finished. I still have to work out the braiding pattern before I begin. The design is the most important part of the planning phase, and must be finalized as it can't be changed once I start.”
“May I watch you make it? I actually have no idea how whips are made. Embarrassing for someone whose used one from the moment I could hold things.”
Alucard purred before he could stop himself. He loved being admired. Of course Trevor could watch and admire his handiwork along the way, which he told the Hunter just so. “I'll let you know when I am done the blueprint.”
After some light discussion back and forth about what was going to be used for what, and Trevor balking at the price he had just shelled out for all the materials, Alucard rolled up the leather and had Trevor help him lay everything out on his work desk, the Hunter handling the anointed silver to spare him having to fetch gloves. Once everything was off the floor, he told the Hunter to go get his shoes on. While clearly excited to leave the house for any reason, the Hunter did stop in the door frame to ask what for.
“You need a bathing suit to go to the beach.” Alucard explained. It was mid-afternoon by this point, so there was still plenty of time to enjoy the sand and then the sunset. “And a hat. I need to fetch my holy symbol so the water doesn't sear me out from my coat. And we both need, I would hazard a guess... All of the sunscreen.”
*****
Internet Cafe, Nakano Station, Tokyo
With too little sleep, too much caffeine, and far far too much internet, Yoko groaned inwardly, but otherwise stayed in place, endlessly scrolling a few online communities she'd joined to chime in here and there and build rapport and street cred. She had three usernames going: COCYTUS_AF, MALPHAS_IS_COMING, and GG_DOMINUS. It kept her amused for a little while, but the endless barrage of tripe was really wearing her down.
She was in no way a Gatekeeper to her craft. Arcane abilities were inherited mostly by blood, but sometimes the world just spat out another mage by fluke. There were crafts that could be honed without the inherent power or talent. Glyphs could be taught. Medicine was long and gone spread to normies and perfected by research scientists and Big Pharma. Certain rituals were not dependant on innate power but the power of the materials gathered. You did not need magick for those, only the knowledge. The girls – let's face it, most of these usernames typed and sounded like younger girls – talking up Moon Water and blessings were probably ninety percent just girls who'd watched The Craft one too many times. But who was she to tell them to get a life and leave the arcane arts to those who had to walk around with a licence to practice? Ultimately, they were just bored girls playing pretend. Harmless normal human girls.
Most of them.
Some of them knew what they were talking about. Those ones seemed to talk in a coded language that Yoko was quickly cluing into. Those ones also hung around the forum posts about Arcane Rights, and debated quite fervently against needing a license to practice. Following suit, Yoko also started to pop in over at these hot debates. She was still in the mostly observing phase, with only a few questions and comments made, but the more she read into the topic, the more unsettled she felt.
Not because the seething rage of some of these girls and women was palpable, though the fire of their anger was very much felt through the screen, but because she found herself more and more kind of agreeing with them.
She'd been raised in the Belnades Clan since birth, only ever leaving to go to college and university overseas. The Clan with it's close ties to the Church, and it's centuries of service side by side to defend the world from hell-spawn and demons. Her sisters within the Clan and others like hers, Aulin, Renard and the like, never spoke like these women were. There were never questions about having to register and be recognized within the Church to practice her magick. Never questions about the need for obtaining a license to do the thing she had been born capable of doing. Quite the opposite, even. She remembered cousins going off to test for their licenses and coming back triumphantly with the card she had stashed in her wallet. She remembered the party her sisters had thrown for her when she'd come back with hers. The licence meant she was a Church approved witch. The license meant she could conjure in broad daylight and never think twice about it.
And she had truly never thought twice about it. Not until these girls online made her.
It wasn't a good feeling, the one currently in her stomach. She kept scrolling through message boards mindlessly, but her mind was racing with questions she'd never once thought to ask, and now wondered why she never had.
Why was she registered with the Church? Why did she need a license to do something she was born into? Why did she need to check in monthly to her superiors on her location, or any time she flew off for vacation? Why were girls with Arcane talents the world over registered to the Church records? Why did women who were not working for the church need to get a license and permit to use Arcane talents for their own purposes, business or otherwise?
Yoko had always likened it to gun laws and gun safety. Just because you own a gun doesn't mean you know how to safely use it, store it, and maintain it. But to this, the women online made her question that line of thinking. No one was born with a gun in their hand. People were born with magick. Magick was not a choice these people made to possess. Why should they be regulated and documented differently just for being born different? It was clear and blatant discrimination and control. That was what they decried on these forums and calls for action.
And it was what Yoko found she was increasingly agreeing with. She had never known any different viewpoints on her Clans relationship to the Church. They were favoured allies. She'd never felt the Church interfere with her enjoyment of life. But then also... was it because she was Belnades? Were they such proven good Arcane pets they were allotted more freedoms and less hassle than these small town girls born with big time potential?
Her phone vibrated with a screenshot from Alucard and a very warranted puke. Her lips twitched lightly into a smile but it felt hollow and empty. She must have typed, deleted, re-typed, and so on a hundred times before she simply shut her phone off completely to avoid any more distractions.
Her eyes drifted back to her screen. To the angry bitter women she believed were justified in feeling so maligned and marginalized and... yes, discriminated against. It was not a crime to be born. It was not a crime to exist. Normie, arcane-endowed or demon. Was her lauded place in her Clan so lofty that was why she had had no idea what it was like to be a common street witch? A little jingle played in her headphones as she saw a private message come in. It was to her GG_DOMINUS account. Without any hesitation she clicked over to her account and opened the message.
It was a recipe for creating fire salts. Well, almost. It was missing a few steps. Unsure what to do and still lost in her own thoughts, Yoko replied by copy/pasting the recipe but filling the gaps in with red text. Very close, but try this. She suggested politely, before even wondering what some novice witch would need fire salts for. It wasn't exactly your every day salt. A few minutes later a reply came back. A simple thanks, and a polite praise that she knew what she was talking about. Out of curiosity Yoko clicked on the username. There were no public posts made by the account that had private messaged her. Furthermore, the account was only 48 hours old.
Her fingers froze over the keyboard. Methodically, she typed a polite reply to please feel free to reach out if the user had any other questions about incomplete recipes. And then waited. And waited. And waited for hours more. Until the user went offline and then their account was deleted. They had never responded back to her. Yoko had screen shot everything with trembling hands and a racing heart. She couldn't say with certainty by any means, but she believed she had just been talent scouted by a real witch. She had been issued a test and passed with flying colours.
She believed she had a real lead.
Shouldn't a break after months of eating nothingburgers feel like something to celebrate? Instead, card-carrying Church witch shut down her laptop and closed out her usage bill. In a cloud of doubt she entered the station intent on heading back to her hotel, leaving her phone powered off.
She wasn't in any kind of mood to talk.
*****
August 2037 ~ The Fast Lane, on route back to Tokyo
It had now been two full days where Alucard had done absolutely nothing productive in so far as the investigation and hunt he had spearheaded. The fact was not lost on him, and he did take a few seconds to acknowledge that he was not pulling his weight as he drove back towards his temporary home in Tokyo. However, in complete fairness to him, he'd been on the clock since the 1800's, minus that hazy period between the 1960's and 70's where he'd gotten way too drunk for way too long and hate-fucked that awful banshee. For a decade. There was a lot of hate they had to work through, and damn had she given as good as she took. Considering that even watching the banshee had been his 'job' at the time, did it even count as a break? Not in his eyes.
So playing hooky for a few days just to be with his long lost and dearly beloved friend was no huge crime. Also, it had been fun.
Straw hats, sandals and rashguards in hand, the beach adventure had been good clean fun. Watermelon had been delicious and refreshing, as were the Popsicles. Failing to teach Trevor how to swim had been more fun that it should have been, but at least he'd managed to teach the basics of how to properly tread water. At least Trevor could now keep his head above water should any nautical related accidents happen. Dinner beach-side had been fresh and tasty, from what he could tell of the stolen bites off Trevor's plate. The setting sun had been stunning, and the sunscreen sufficient enough to stave off any burns on either of them until the ball of fire was finally below the horizon.
What more could he ask for? He was one deliriously happy demon spawn, clearly on some kind of high with no discernible, and likely multiple causes. One suspicion he did have was the intoxicating scent coming off Trevor Belmont all damned day. Not to say he'd not enjoyed the scent of the Hunter prior. That scent was in part what drove his hunger and interest in the young man the day he'd walked into his crypt centuries ago. With this intensity, however? No, this was something else. Whether stemming from the Dhampyre or the Hunter, this was certainly something else. A wonderful something else, regardless of origin.
Still... he was going to run them off the road if he could not keep his eyes at least partially on the road ahead, so he hit the switch to lower the convertible roof and let in the fresh summer night breeze, which just so happened to allow Trevor to wonder at the stars whipping by above. The Hunter really enjoyed that open air combined with the speed, remarking about how wonderful it felt in his hair. Alucard could agree with that sentiment. He also enjoyed fast cars and the wind in his hair. Hell, for good measure he even dialed the satellite radio to a metal station to really let Trevor enjoy the ride. Which was thoroughly enjoyed until they got into the quieter burbs of the city, and then to not be assholes, the party had to be packed in. They did not want to be bad neighbours, after all.
Given the vacant street, he took the time to back into his driveway upon their return. The Hunter hopped out and carried all their beach gear inside. Alucard simply sat behind the steering wheel for a bit to get his head on straight without the all consuming scent clouding his thoughts. This was of course pointless, as the source was just inside his home, where they would both be for the remainder of the night. What was so wrong with having clouded thoughts anyway?
Inside, he sent the Hunter to shower off the salt water and leave him the swimwear and rashguard. Changing out of his own, he placed both sets as well as the stripped sheets off the bed in the wash to run, the Hunter finishing his shower just in time to help him place the spare set of sheets on the bed. There was something just incredibly intimate and domestic about making the bed together, in Alucard's addled mind. As if they were back in Lupu. Playing house in a place that would never be their home. The Hunter was giving him that playful smile as they smoothed down the duvet, the intoxicating, cloying, maddening scent heavy.
Unable to hold off any longer, the Dhampyre fixed the Hunter with his gaze and just asked honestly. “What did you do differently today, Trevor? There is something so magnetic about you.”
Lips opening to answer, the Hunter faltered. He shook his head and accused instead. “I have no idea what you mean. You are the one who is different today.”
“The smell of you is just... everywhere. I can hardly think straight. Did you get a perfume or something I am not aware of?”
To this, the Hunter seemed to take great offence. “I do not smell. And I have had two showers today. Your eyes have been weird all day. That's the only thing different I have noticed today.”
“You scent is driving me to distraction, Trevor. I didn't say you stink. Quite the opposite.” He continued, head swimming.
“There, right now. You're doing it again. The eye thing. They've been doing that all day.” The Hunter insisted.
“What eye thing?” Alucard questioned, struggling to process the words coming out of that pale little pout, and not just focusing on the lips moving, earnestly wishing they'd stop talking and instead were moving against his own.
“They are a weird colour. They've never been that colour before today.”
“I am hungry.” He admitted, with some semblance of clarity held onto. “You know they turn red when I am famished.”
With a sarcastic exhalation of air, Trevor rolled his eyes. “I know that. I was a Vampyre Hunter.” He spat. “Your eyes are not red, Adrian. They're... weird. Like the hue of the sky at dawn.” When Alucard obviously was not following along, the Hunter pointed to the prismatic compact mirror sitting out on his dresser. “Look in your mirror then and see for yourself.”
It was a command he complied with. If for no other reason than to put some space between he and the object of his desire lest he leap over that faint line in the sand Trevor had drawn prior. When he looked, all he saw was his yellow irises, not even the crimson he'd been certain to find. He shrugged and returned to face Trevor. The scent wafting off the Hunter hitting him like the ocean waves earlier.
“Hmm, they're back to normal... No. Look again!”
Marginally annoyed now, he complied again, because who could possibly say no to Trevor Belmont? This time, however, he was quick enough to catch the rosy pink hue of his eyes before they faded back into yellow. “All right.” He conceded. “That is weird and I have never seen them do that either.”
“They've done that every time you've look at me today.” Trevor confessed. “I think it's pretty. Just like the sky before the sun comes up. But it's weird, right?”
“It's weird, yeah.” He agreed. “But every time I have looked at you today, you have this aroma coming off you that is driving me to madness. That has to be why.”
“I can't control how I smell other than being clean. I am human. I don't have crazy pheromones.” Trevor dismissed him in an aggravated tone, but his eyes soon returned to Alucard's. Almost as if he was as lost in them as Alucard was in the human Hunter's scent, compelled by forces unseen to draw in closer, within arms reach. “They are so beautiful to look at when they are that colour though.” All aggravation seemed to have vanished.
That overpowering arousing scent was stronger than ever. Logic and reason losing ground, Alucard pushed Trevor hard onto the bed and fell over him. The Hunter didn't fight back, instead half raising onto his elbows so that their gazes met.
“I am starved.” The Dhampyre growled, desperately. “For only the taste of you, Trevor Belmont. No other walking this earth will satisfy my palate.”
Cobalt eyes held his for a what felt like eons, before a force stronger than the Dhampyre was moving them, reversing their positions so that the Hunter could straddle him and stare back on equal level. The sharpness in the gaze cut him deep. Strings snipped with only a look, like a useless marionette his hands fell away from the Hunter, and he was wholly submissive to his puppeteers whim. Fingers curled into the nape of his neck and pulled him close, granting permission.
Then all there was was blood and honey. Greedy mouthfuls of ambrosia and an explosion of ecstasy.
Slowly he came around back to the present moment, lap full of Trevor, of whom he was currently licking up the trickling blood from puncture wounds. Placing playful little sucking kisses along that neck that had been offered to him. Fingers were still at the nape of his neck, half cradling his head, and half combing through the tangle of hairs back there. More fingers were laced with his own, wrapped around and sticky with the mess they'd collectively made between them. If asked, he'd have been hard pressed to remember when dicks got added to the mix. Based on how Trevor, now coming out of his own hazy reverie reacted, Alucard would say it was the same case for the Hunter.
“Oh no...” The Hunter whispered, Alucard thought more to himself, and it was just how they close they were that made it audible. When he next found his voice, it was to ask. “What just happened?” There was no accusation or anger in the question. Just utter bewilderment.
Lacking any form of an answer for the poor Hunter, he instead reached blindly behind him, feeling for the bedside table to dig the box of tissues out. Each cleaned up their own half of the mess and arranged themselves more decently, eyes unable to meet. Still, the Hunter did not move away and he hadn't the heart to push him off or climb out from under the man either. So they stayed like that, faces flushed with a baffling kind of embarrassment, but still drawing a strange form of comfort from the fact that at least they were bewildered together.
“That... Sex on a silver platter aroma you have been giving off... It is gone.” Alucard realized out loud in an unsteady voice. “I can't smell it anymore.”
Some time after the confession, Trevor leaned back a little to finally look at him. He was quiet for a moment, and only once Alucard gained enough courage to meet the Hunter's eyes did the the brunette nod slightly. “Your eyes are normal. Yellow.” Then a nervous laughter overtook him, building to an almost frantic off-kilter degree before it died out in singular, mournful, defeated sigh. “Sypha is going to rightly charbroil me. The one time I could explain and maybe even get away with. But twice without talking it over with her?” More settled and, Alucard guessed, resigned to his dead man walking fate, he asked again. “What could have happened to us? I felt like I was possessed. Your eyes were mesmerizing.”
The Dhampyre could only his shake his head, at a loss. “I wish I could say. I wasn't trying to use my Force of Will to seduce you or influence, and it only works to the degree you seem to want me to anyway, even if I were trying. I was drunk on that aroma.” Trevor seemed more troubled the further he confessed to having nothing to do with the utter loss of control, but he rambled on regardless, seeking to make some kind of sense of the bizarre event just transpired. “You know, honestly I can't recall a single thing anyone else has said to me today after we got in the car to go shopping. I just remember you. Everything you did and said. Only you.”
“Arghhhh!” Trevor groaned and rolled off him, flopping down on his back. Hunter refusing to even once look at the Dhampyre no matter how Alucard tried to catch his attention, feeling anxious as he was about the sudden outburst. “What kind of man am I, really? I thought I was better... Or that I had morals. I am just worse than refuse. I am worse than horse dung you'd scrape off your boot.” With another disgusted noise, he turned on his side, facing away from Alucard. “After all the grandstanding and even allowing that one single concession... Allowing that one single betrayal for the sake of letting go. I only feel a little bit bad about what just happened. I just betrayed the mother of my children for the second time in a twenty four hour span, and I only feel a little bit bad about it. Who does that!?”
What does that say about how you think of me? One did have to wonder. “You're not that bad...” Alucard said automatically instead, but it was clear the Hunter was not listening to him. French curses muttered ceaselessly from the curled figure before him. It was starting to feel cruel being the only one knowing that Sypha was a long buried happy grandmother of seven grandchildren and twenty-three great grandchildren. Surely there was a little relief from the guilt he could spare the Hunter. In spite of his anxious fears, the desire to stymie some of this copious self-loathing on display moved the Dhampyre passed his wall of apprehension in order offer solace. Trevor hadn't even noticed him get up and leave to retrieve a few drawings from his office, nor noticed when he'd returned until he shook the man's shoulder. “Here.” He said, offering the three pencil and ink sketches, biting his lower lip as the pages passed from his grip.
The sour-tempered Hunter took the pages seemingly only to keep them from being continuously waved before his face, but once he realized what they were, his features softened considerably. Pale grey-blue eyes misted over, a single stray hot tear escaping as the rest were blinked away. A father's instinct true, he asked already knowing the answer, but needing to hear the confirmation. “You... Are these them?” Trevor's voice faltered as he sat up. “Are these my daughters?”
At the top of the collection was a sketch of two baby girls. One asleep in her swaddling, the other cooing. They had been born with heads crowned of curly reddish gold, heavier on the gold, and his ink washed sepia fill showed that. They had come into this world bearing Sypha's distinct pert little nose, the reason for which Alucard had flattered the Mage by saying they looked like her. But in truth, other than the curls and the nose, the little girls had always looked like Sonia Belmont to him. More so when they grew into women, and most of all when they became mothers in their own right.
“Look how sweet they are...” Trevor whispered, voice strained with what could only be a torrent of emotions. “This one looks mischievous. There is always one who is trouble with twins, I guess.”
“Luna and Soleil.” Alucard pointed each out, Luna being the more bratty one. Well... the one that grew up into a sublime brat and, yes, Alucard would have labelled her trouble. Luna was the one that ran away numerous times saying she was going to find her real father and live with him instead, though she never made it further then the edge of the forest. Soleil had always been sweet and took care of her mother as the Mage ailed in her later years. He pulled the next page from out the Hunter's hands to show Sypha's home in the Lost Commune. Simple wooden structure that it was, framed by gardens and a rope swing for the girls made once they were older, but Trevor did not need that info now. “This is where they are growing up, and where Sypha lives. The village is very safe, and away from Wallachia.”
The Hunter did look, but his eyes kept returning to the sketch of his daughters, misty and emotional, which was completely understandable. The babies he had not, nor would ever see in real life. Life was truly cruel and unforgiving, but those babies had grown up happy and content. They'd never struggled hard. The Hunter would have to take solace in that fact. His daughters had thrived in the Lost Commune. “What's this then?” Finally he asked, having managed to look away from the first sketch to see the one made in an entirely different art style. Not by Alucard's hand, but a friend in the Lost Commune. It was the one Alucard was most nervous about, but the one that would offer the Hunter the most relief from his current mire of self-loathing and guilt. The final sketch was of a few of the old crew in the village, friends and neighbours, the harpy, man beast, and the like, but also Alucard and Sypha. She was resting her head on his shoulder, as she often did, as they often sat close. Looking it over quietly for a few minutes, the Hunter asked once more, this time his question pregnant with a myriad of possibilities. “What is this?”
Seeking only to assuage the Hunter of any guilt, Alucard found a modicum of courage and answered gently, but honestly. “When I found out Sypha had bore your children, I was quite jealous of her. I understood why... I had been absent for years... but it did not change how I felt about the matter. The problem was, you were missing so we could not really settle the matter without your input.” Alucard explained, trying to keep as matter of fact and emotion free as possible. This wasn't about making excuses or seeking forgiveness, it was about telling the truth so that Trevor could offload some of his guilt. “It had been my intention to have you and your sons by my side wherever the wind took us, but when I arrived on your doorstep ready to keep my promise, you now also had another lover and daughters. Which... given this lover was Sypha, whom I adored as well, I found it rather easy to just... Fit her perfectly into my fantasy life with you. I felt no jealousy within the confines of that decision, if it was one you and she would agree to. Rather, I thought it could be quite the charmed situation in the end. From loneliness to both a husband and wife to share my love with, alongside four children to raise. We would of course have gotten that dog or two. Charming a prospect.”
Eyes falling back to the sketches of Sypha on his arm and Luna and Soleil in their blankets, Trevor was quiet for several agonizingly long minutes. The Belmont pause if ever there was one. “Just like that, huh?” The Hunter, face flushed once again, wondered out loud, daring to consider the possibilities. It was not lost on Alucard that the man had responded just the same as Sypha had all those years ago.
Alucard truly hoped he'd sold the truth convincingly. “Now here is where you are going to either choose to believe me, or be unable to accept that sometimes things have a way of working out. I proposed the idea as one alternative solution to the... issues... we three were now faced with, being so emotionally tangled. Of course the final decision could have only been made after all three of us had been given the chance to sit down and discuss the merits.”
“...You are still alive.” Trevor's gaze narrowed, thoughtful expression naked for any to see. “She didn't fry you on the spot.”
“Sypha could think of a worse pair of men to be tied to for life. Her words exactly.”
The Hunter's sombre hesitancy broke, as he answered automatically with the knowing, loving frustration of a man who'd been at the end of Sypha's backhanded compliments for years. “That just means she could also think of two better men to be tied to!”
“That's exactly what I said!” Alucard laughed, happy to be on the same page, even if it was six centuries late. “But my point is that she is okay with it. She is happy to be with you, and she is generous enough to share. I believe she was just waiting for you to agree you would also be okay with such an arrangement.”
“I... want to believe it. But I can't. Not just like that.” Trevor sighed. “You know I need to ask her myself. It would be too easy to just accept.” Then, with a deep breath, the Hunter, ever a Belmont, cut to the heart of the matter. “Does this mean you are sleeping with her too?”
Keeping honesty in the forefront, he admitted a past deed. His participation and part ownership in Sypha's act of betrayal, in so far as the Hunter would probably believe. “Yes, I have.”
Without missing a beat, the Hunter punched his arm, but it was not as hard nor for the reasons he expected. No scent of anger or hurt clung to the Hunter's current aroma. There was only an exasperated groan, head tilted back and spat at the heavens. “You ass! Why couldn't you just tell me about this from the start? Why haven't you shown me all this before? I've been here for months. I've been agonizing about how I feel and the fact that I love you both for goddamn months. On top of letting me languish tearing myself to pieces because I greedily wanted to keep two entirely separate people, you had these drawings of my babies and you just... kept them? You didn't think I would want to know what my own kids look like?” The drawing of Luna and Soleil was held up for emphasis. “This is mine now, just so you know.”
Anxiety and suspicion high, as the revelation was being taken rather well, Alucard soothed. “Of course you have have that.” Continuing, “I am ashamed at my cowardice, Trevor, and that you have suffered because of it. But I was afraid how you would take the news... and I did not think you would believe me. About Sypha and her openness to the very notion we could all fit together in harmony. The drawing I should have shown you sooner. There is no excuse for that.” The Dhampyre spread his arms wide and shrugged. “However late, I have told you now. Now you may at least remove the guilt from your mind.”
“You're an ass.” Trevor spat, without any fight or fire. “It is still adultery. It doesn't matter that she did it first. Or that you did it first, for that matter. I didn't know that when I chose to do that. So I am still just the worst kind of scum in the situation.” The brunette flopped back down on his side with the pencil and ink wash of his daughters and returned to tracing the image with his finger, his body curling into the foetal position. “Your Papa is an awful person, little Luna and Soleil. I hope you grow up into better people than I.”
Following Trevor's logic, Alucard surmised. “Well... That also means Sypha and I are awful people. So... Don't feel too bad. We are all consenting adults in the matter. And we have all fallen prey to our base desires.”
“Tell me then, fellow adulterer, is this what you were trying to confess to me last night? Is this what you were so upset about, you were in tears just thinking over?”
“Well... it's part of the reason. Yes.” Alucard murmured. “Honestly, you are taking this news way better than I thought you would.”
Ignoring his comment entirely, the Hunter made a noise of displeasure. “There is more then.” Trevor inhaled deeply. “What else could there be, Adrian? Are you going to tell me the full story and just get it over with?” When he said nothing, the Hunter rolled over so that they were looking at each other, but stayed in place otherwise. “This wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. This wasn't something you needed to cry over either. So what is the rest? Are you trying to tell me she is having your child now? Are we having a... I don't even know what to call the product of such a union. A Quadpyre? Because I can handle that, if that's what you're afraid to tell me. I'm pretty sure the son of Dracula, an austere powerful mage, and a former Vampyre Hunter can keep a baby quasi-Vampyre from getting out of control with it's hunger. Any child of yours I will raise, keep safe, and love, Adrian. The more the merrier for the Belmont brood.”
Delivered unto him in a halfhearted tirade or not... Alucard found himself with an odd lump in his throat over the sentiment. Any child of his, Trevor had just promised. Any demon spawn from the Țepeș bloodline. Trevor Belmont would protect and raise as his own. “Can we just...” Alucard began but couldn't quite find the words. Where the fuck was the line now? Where was anything that would help guide him to act within the parameters of Trevor's current comfort level? Because the Hunter seemed too fine with what he'd divulged so far. “I wish I could say I was having a baby with Sypha. I would love to raise a child with you both.” He shook his head to try and shake free the sudden yearning for something that would never be. Instead, he just felt his face crumple a little, but held the tears back. “Would it be too much to ask to embrace you? A romantic friendship embrace? I could really use one right now.”
Impossibly, in spite of everything else that had happened so far this night, the Hunter actually let him. Taken gently by the hands with a soft touch, he was pulled into the brunette's lap, cradled even, if he'd been pressured to describe it. Trevor Belmont seemingly all right with all of this. This road not taken that they could have walked... If only Alucard had found him back then. If he had saved the Hunter from whatever misery had befallen him six centuries ago... Trevor, Sypha, Alucard and their children. What a charmed life it would have been. What a charmed possibility Trevor was seemingly wholly open to entertain, if not outright give it a shot. With success, Alucard had gotten part of the painful truth out and found it to be not as traumatic as he'd feared.
The real trauma was that... It was all no longer a possibility.
Like Alucard, Trevor would always be left wondering what it could have been like... If things had just gone the way they were supposed to. Somehow, Alucard was going to have to tell him that nothing had gone as planned.
“You are beginning to scare me, Adrian.” Trevor shared in a low voice, the Hunter trying in vain to sooth his sudden trembling. “If the fact that we have somehow found ourselves in a mutual poly-amorous union is not the thing you're having a hard time telling me... Should I be afraid, Adrian?”
How... Do I answer that?
Could he answer that? Right here and now?
“I have to get the mail.” Alucard blurted out, and bailed. A true coward's exit.
Cowardly haste didn't even give him time to consider taking his shoes or his car. He didn't even consider that he was just leaving the one person a deadly dangerous Witch he was currently failing to hunt waiting alone and mostly defenceless. His mind had room for only one selfish thought; That he'd just needed to get out of there. The store clerk thankfully did not seem to judge him too harshly when he showed up barefoot and wide-eyed asking to collect his mail in the dead of night. He repaid the kindness by purchasing some coffee and a packaged sweet, leaving as suddenly as he'd arrived with the goods and a hefty envelope. Going straight home just wasn't an option either. Still barefoot, he walked towards the park to nervously eat and down his coffee while ripping into the envelope. Anything to take his mind off that impending explosion back home.
Sealed away inside were records. Some minor criminal, and others local government registered. All spanning from sea to sea across South America. Hunters. All the sacrificial victims his contacts had managed to ID had been Hunters. Most freelance or mercenary, but at least two of them were on a government payroll.
The newest puzzle piece stole the place his anxiety and fear formally occupied.
Alucard put down his coffee and sat there in silence, flipping through the records thrice more before he was satisfied.
So, a woman who was self-taught, per Yoko, but immensely talented, as demonstrated, had been trying to open a gateway to the Castle. Her methods were well planned, as she had almost succeeded. Her tools were not random victims. Not by the records he held in his hands. She had chosen Hunters for every sacrificial body. She had somehow gotten all these bodies across the sea into another country. And grown a coven large enough to do all this, unseen and unchallenged. Until Alucard and his merry band had just happened to stumble upon some odd energy and movement in the forest. And by chance he had not been able to let it go, and followed up. Everything had been by chance.
And by chance, Trevor Belmont was her final victim?
Or more likely... By design.
I am missing something... Something very obvious.
The Dhampyre pondered in the dark.
Chapter 29: The Truth
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
September 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Cicadas humming incessantly in the midday swelter, played melodically against the rustling of the large tree canopy from above. Ancient camphor shielding the occupants in the garden below from the harshest of the direct rays of sunlight. Birdsong and dim traffic weaved in and out of symphony, accompanied by the occasional voices of neighbours and locals out and about on a beautiful Saturday afternoon.
On the grass by the gardens, borrowed brushes, pens, ink and pencils strewn about hap-hazardously, sprawled the Hunter on his stomach. Hands worked meticulously in the journal that had been purchased for him to use as he saw fit currently utilized to capture the flowers and stones. A blessedly quiet and easy distraction for a normally incredibly active man who was prone to boredom. But then, the Dhampyre who watched him supposed his human had been quite unusually sedentary of late. Hanging back quietly as Alucard worked. No longer assaulting him with dozens of questions an hour about this or that. Hovering just in or around the corner of his sights while he spoke on the phone, without the slightest attempt to pretend he was not listening, or watching.
Truthfully, Alucard was disturbed by the change. He knew why... Alucard had a secret he just could not spit out. Trevor knew there was more than just his confessions about sharing the bed of the man's more or less second wife. That he'd essentially run away from the Hunter for the second time in his life to get around breaking the rest of the news had created a new tension between them. To add salt to the wound, this new tension had slid into place just as the emotional and sexual desire anchor hanging over them had been relieved. This new weight hanging off them stemming from apprehension, of a kind keenly felt on both sides. Not that either man nor demon would say so out loud.
Focus back on his own work, he plotted out the braiding pattern of the new whip he was making for the final most layer, maximizing the beauty of the quality hydra pelt, within the measurements he had to work with. There was only one pelt, and he could only cut once. The silver and platinum alloy had already been prepared, magick fusing purifying salts to the links in a fashion that would keep the salts from eating at the metals. Maximizing utility and effectiveness against his own demonkind.
It was a rather pleasant time-killer as he awaited Yoko and Julius' impending arrival. Fellow hunters having been hard at work following up on leads. Yoko with her baiting online forays and Julius with buttering up the Iron Maiden's secretary to run some other ID's through the Church records to see if there was anything on the deceased hunters they'd found in the cave. Without, of course, letting Iron Liza know why exactly he was asking.
Speak of the devil. He mused, standing up to let the approaching hunters into his garden. They were mildly surprised to see him outside, but took it in stride, waving to Trevor as they were welcomed in. As Yoko ducked under his arm, he caught a strange scent about her, but she moved too quickly, and the scent too faint to really pin down it's nature. Curious, he watched her bend over Trevor to look at his work, giving compliments in a warm boisterous and all together very Yoko sounding tone. The girl looked pale and exhausted though. Perhaps all the late nights and huddling over a laptop were just catching up with her. Like Trevor, Yoko too was an active busybody, not suited for a sedentary lifestyle.
“I think this is the first time I have actually sat out here since you moved in.” Julius commented in English, taking a seat on the iron wrought bench opposite of him. Looking around the small garden he made a small noise, neither positive or negative. “I see Trouble has been staying out of his namesake. That's a surprising bonus.” Now turning solely to the Dhampyre before him, the old Hunter raised a questioning brow. “You look like you've been through the wringer, Alucard. Are you getting picked on once more? I don't mind sorting him out again for you, if that is the case.”
This made Alucard laugh softly, certain that Julius would take great delight in knocking the younger man down a peg or two. That was just the kind of man Julius was. He shook his head, and seeing that Trevor and Yoko were still all smiles and giggling in their own private world, he dropped his voice to a low whisper and shared. “I almost told him the truth a few nights ago. I got nearly halfway there.”
Mirth fading from Julius' bloodshot eyes, the old man asked in just as shushed a voice. “Define nearly halfway there.”
“That... Well.” He faltered. “He knows I have some very bad news for him. And that I keep chickening out when I try to just say it.”
“That's not nearly halfway.” Julius sighed, but threw up his hands in concession. Who was the older Belmont to argue semantics. His eyes returned to his young protégé and a faint near smile touched his lips as he watched her win over the younger Belmont bit by bit. It was now at the point Trevor would answer some of Yoko's questions with genuine answers. It made Julius proud. Alucard could see and smell it all over the old hunter.
In a weird way it kind of made Alucard proud as well. He'd seen her shape up from a foolhardy novice surviving through dumb luck alone to a capable sorceress. In all that time she'd never lost who Yoko Belnades was, where others had had the darkness blacken their souls and steal their light piecemeal. He would make sure to tell her so, soon. How much he had seen her grow.
“Oh wow.” Yoko exclaimed, peering into the younger Belmont's hands. It seemed he had caught something in the garden, the two trying to study it without letting the creature escape the confines of his makeshift prison.
“You are so beautiful.” Trevor was telling the thing in his hands, almost trance-like.
Exchanging a glance with Julius, the elders of the group had their curiosity sufficiently piqued. They took to joining the others, kneeling down to try and see what all the fuss was about. With Julius hands held out to brace and help catch whatever was inside should it try to escape, Trevor opened his palms to reveal an iridescently coloured beetle. Jewel green with a metallic looking coat, ribbons of rainbows streaking across the carapace where the sunlight hit. For posterity, Alucard took out his phone and snapped a high definition photo. Trevor's open fascination with the insect was contagious. Such an innocent response to a beetle of all things.
Contagious smile still pulling at his lips, the Dhampyre stood and left the trio momentarily to fish out a few things from his office. When he returned there was a collective sound of dismay. The little beetle had just flown away, glittering in the sky before it was finally out of sight. Making a soothing noise, he connected the tiny Bluetooth printer to his phone and printed the photo. Peeling off the backside adhesive of the printer paper, he stuck the high-def picture of the beetle in Trevor's journal on the next fresh blank page. Catching the Hunter's attention he handed over a Japanese guidebook about insects and arachnids.
Trevor's amazed reaction to the photo gave Alucard another dose of that secondhand sense of wonder he'd been enjoying. “See if you can find out what it was.” He suggested, tapping the guidebook. With the younger Hunter happy to comply, the trio left him to it and returned to settle comfortably around the fire-pit once more, residual merriment touching upon all their features. “It is good to see you.” He told his friends, earnestly.
“I needed an excuse to take a break and get out of internet cafes.” Yoko confessed. “I am making a lot of friends online but little else.” Feeling Julius's eyes on her, she hastily added. “I have gotten a few weird vibes from some, but it's very much a bait and wait game.”
The added info seemed to satisfy Julius' suspicions, as the old man simply nodded. “Not exactly like you could just create an account and ask where all the blood sacraments at.” The very notion made Yoko laugh, which seemed to be the old hunter's intention. “I am still trying to get Missy at HQ to run some of those names for me on the down low. She's Liza's favourite for a reason though. I think I am wearing her down, as she seems to be under the impression I am asking for a good, if vague, reason.”
Hot, sexy Missy. Alucard mused internally. She was always so pleasant and helpful, unlike her immediate superior. Yoko and Julius were giving him a strange look, however. Perhaps he may have been thinking out loud again. “Did I..?”
“Oh, you did.” Julius affirmed. “Right in front of your boyfriend too.”
Yoko was more amused by the comment than anything. “I love whatever it is Trevor Belmont has unleashed in you. Since day one you were such a stony-faced serious buzzkill. Not to say I did not like you before, but I just adore you now.” The Mage teased in good fun. “If this is the actual personality you've been hiding this whole time, it's a great personality, Alucard. You should share yourself more openly.”
“I do not hide.” The Dhampyre insisted, defending his honour. “There is a time and a place. Most of the time, it is neither the place nor the time in our line of work.” Seeing how Yoko was openly grinning at him now, and feeling fairly charitable by means of indulging her, he leaned in to meet the Mage eye to eye. With a thumb he gestured briefly over at Trevor, and reiterated. “That's how I like my men. Pale skinned, dark-haired, preferably a foot shorter than me, and that Michelangelo's David physique.” To be complete, he finished adding, “Petite Missy with her huge ringlets of hair and those wide endless pools for eyes, is how I like my women, when I rarely decide to like my women. Satisfied?”
The Mage let out a squeal at the revelation, even stamping her heeled boots a little on the patio stone. “You like them tiny, is what I am hearing. Tiny and cute.”
“He's a demon.” Julius supplied. “He likes it when they are easy to carry off in the middle of the night.”
“Exactly.” Alucard agreed, much to Yoko's further delight. “If you've found I am more candid than you can recall in recent memory, that is only because I am, paradoxically, as relaxed for the first time in ages as I am nail-bitingly apprehensive.” Seeing that he had the Mage's rapt attention, and apparently he was in a massive mood for sharing, he continued. Hell, why not consider it practice for when talking to Trevor was no longer a matter of when, but how. “As a sexually adventurous woman you must certainly be familiar with edging, Yoko?” This question made both the Mage and the older hunter sputter, Julius even going so far as to cough up the water he'd just downed from a bottle. “Think edging, only instead of my dick it's my heart. I am full to the brim with love and happiness, and then complete dread because I am about to break him. Back and forth. Bliss and heartbreak. So really... Sparing a moment to think of hot sexy Missy from HQ is a lovely distraction. I can admire her from afar without any caveats. I am not about to break Missy's heart.”
“Sounds pretty human to me.” Yoko replied, with a look in Julius' direction. “It's fine, Alucard. It's not a crime to have emotions, or feel the need to conceal them.” She paused before adding. “Or harmless fantasies that go no further than that.”
“Thank you.” The Dhampyre accepted her permission to be allowed to think Missy was hot and not have it mean he wanted to do anything about it. Admiring was often enough.
“Someone is staring at you...” Julius interjected, in a sort of sing-song way.
It was true. Trevor was staring right at him, unblinking and serious. In his hands was the field guide, page saved between his fingers. He was still sitting in the grass, but unmistakably all attention on the Dhampyre. It was kind of uncanny and perhaps a touch unsettling, and this sentiment was coming from a creature who adored being looked upon. Once Trevor and the Dhampyre had a little stand-off in the garden, the younger Hunter rose smoothly to his feet and came to his side. In that adorable heavy accent, but disturbingly precise twenty-first century English, he opened the guide to his saved page and asked politely.
“I believe I have found it. The language is written in symbols, and I do not understand. You will read me this, yes?”
Stunned, Yoko and Julius exchanged a quick glance amongst themselves, and then one with the Dhampyre. They had not yet been privy to the younger Belmont's rapid improvements. Julius whistled, clearly impressed, and stuck to English as he complimented. “That is pretty good. Where have you learned so much?”
“That is good?” Trevor, still English, pondered as he put context clues together. “I am good?” He nodded. “I listen. It is not hard to listen.” Came the explanation.
Can you stop listening? Alucard hissed internally, rightfully suspicions of just how much Trevor was listening to, versus truly comprehending the conversations taking place around him these days. The field guide opened to the green beetle was pushed into his hands. He was being asked to read it, so in a pensive fog of equal parts caution and dread, he took a deep breath to translate the Japanese. Before he could parse a single sentence, Trevor stopped him with a request. In English.
“Read it to me in English. I will listen.”
After a moment to gather his nerves, Alucard agreed. In English. Because why the fuck not? “Okay.” What else could he say? No? There was no such thing as denying Trevor Belmont in Alucard's world. He took a shaky breath, fully aware Trevor saw his apprehension and that it made the corners of the Hunter's lips twist victoriously. He translated as simply as possible, condensing factoids and pronounced everything in a clear, even pace. “Chrysochroa fulgidissima, or commonly known as the Jewel Beetle, is a type of insect with iridescent wings. Their body has a green shine with horizontal rainbow streaks. Birds are afraid of things that change colour, so the iridescent wings keep them away. This protects the Jewel Beetle. They are highly popular amongst insect collectors because of their beauty.”
Cobalt eyes fixed on the page – more precisely, on the image of the Jewel Beetle he'd caught earlier – Trevor's smile widened just a touch. “Les oiseaux ont peur...” He began, but stopped himself, continuing with his accented English practice. “The birds. They fear the beetle for it has too many colours.” He nodded when Alucard gave a positive confirmation he had understood the paragraph correctly. “You can say the beetle has many masks? Glamours? It tries to hide the true nature... Which is that it is prey. It is hiding the truth.” The questions were asked rhetorically, for the Hunter did not wait for Alucard to stammer a reply. “It is pretty. The Jewel beetle. You are very pretty too, Adrian.”
Yoko, clearly not reading the room, let out a noise that more or less sounded like the Mage was choking on her air. Julius on the other hand grew deathly still, his mouth a firm line as he watched Alucard helplessly dangling on the line. There was no help offered from either of them.
“Am I...” Alucard hedged, waiting for the attack. He was not disappointed or left waiting for long.
“I am not afraid or fooled by your colours. You are a pretty beetle, and I am a hungry bird. Glamours do not matter, as you are the prey, and I am a hunter. I will catch you no matter how iridescently you glitter. It is something to think about, yes?” With just a quiet moment to let that statement sink in, Trevor raised his hands as if to broker peace, as if he'd not just committed a war crime, and finished speaking with a shift back into the familiar accented Romanian. “You wish to speak with your friends freely. I will go make a soup ahead of time for dinner. Thank you for reading to me about the Jewel Beetle.”
“Well I have never felt more threatened in my life.” He exhaled nervously once the Hunter had vanished inside.
Julius hummed in accord. “You are not as screwed as you think, buddy. If I may suggest, you should just pull out all that stuff you have stored and get this painful business over with. He very clearly told you he's going to get it out of you one way or the other, and while I'm old, I am not blind yet. I am also not deaf and can read between the lines. He asked you to trust him.”
“That is not what I heard at all.” Alucard rebuffed. “I heard an open threat. Trevor Belmont threats are not to be taken lightly.”
“Oh my God.” Julius sighed. “How are you so old and yet so dense sometimes? He's not afraid of you, Alucard. He's not afraid of anything you can say or do. In the natural order of things, a hunter gets their prey. He will have his answer, and he claims to not be afraid of it. You are the one putting on a glamour and trying to hide the inevitable.”
Dumbstruck, the Dhampyre pulled a face which Julius evidently did not appreciate. “That's really what you got out of that exchange?” Julius nodded and Alucard looked to Yoko for support. Surely she heard a threat? Surely Yoko Belnades would agree he was possibly going to be staked in the early morning hours.
“Don't look at me.” Yoko warned him, against his hopes. “With all the pretty beetle parables distracting me, I thought he was telling you he wanted to take a trip down to bone-town. Population, you and Trevor.”
The old hunter grimaced and threw up his hands. They were a lost cause as far as he was concerned, and he told them so as he left them to fend for themselves. Leather coat whisking against the patio stone as he vanished inside with the intention to help the younger Belmont with his cooking. A little family bonding, Yoko suggested out loud, to which he could only grunt in reply.
Feeling an awkward silence growing between the Mage and Dhampyre he offered to show Yoko how he made enchantments on weapons, leading her inside to his study when she readily agreed. Laying out the whip's finalized pattern, he spread the materials out, taking note how pleased she was to recognize some of Hammer's stock, and began to explain the intricacies of imbuing ones essence into every fibre of a product. She watched him cut the hydra pelt into thin strips as she examined the already completed stock and heel knot, as well as the blessed purified alloy. Now stretching the strips of hydra leather one by one with precise care, he showed her how the imbued energy was folded neatly into the object, in this case it was the leather, and both essence and physical item now shared a space previously meant for only one. With a bit of guidance, Yoko managed to imbue her own energy into a few of the leather strips. She was a natural at it, and he advised her as much.
More than happy to help, she worked closely with him to imbue and form the core and first belly of the enchanted weapon, rightfully guessing that they were making it for the younger Belmont in the other room. Learning how to make a whip in particular was not the lesson, but she seemed rather keen on getting the braiding right, how to incorporate the leather and alloy chain, and seemed to enjoy stretching the strips while the Dhampyre worked to finish the first belly and bolster with Dhampyric speed and skill. Her power, that of a Belnades, his own, Țepeș, in the hands of a Belmont... Well something about that just felt poetic. Together they had completed twelve hours of work in a little over five, while his understudy had mastered the basics of enchantments. They admired their handiwork, a third of the way to it's final form.
Detectable in the air – once the focus on their task vanished – was a delightful and varied array of aromas. The culinary mystery called to Yoko and she followed her nose, with Alucard hot on her heels. Surprisingly, both Julius and Trevor were still in the kitchen, the looks of a veritable feast in full production. Yoko was given the tools to set the table and Alucard sent to answer the door... Surprised to let Hammer in, whom Julius had invited over. In quick and short order, Alucard found himself with a full noisy kitchen, that spread to the chabudai. Mustard leeks, poivre jaunet, various side dishes and a soup blended smoothly into a pottage were laid out. Hammer brought brie to bake and a baguette to toast, along with some sweet pepper jelly. Trevor deftly slipped between all the movement to pour a swirl of heavy cream in each soup bowl. Someone had even found the crate of champagne Joachim had brought.
The Dhampyre, feeling a little lost in the commotion, decided to stay out from underfoot and took his place at the chabudai. He knew it was his, because there was nothing but water and champagne set out to consume. In almost no time, it felt like, the humans settled around him to taste and enjoy the impromptu banquet the Belmont duo had prepared. The last to sit was Trevor, who plopped right down beside him with a small plate he slid in place before the Dhampyre. Curious, he looked at the small assortment, a taster's sampling of each dish. A bite or two at most, even a sip of soup on a well balanced spoon. Sweet Trevor Belmont, always considering him.
“You on a diet?” Hammer joked which drew a laugh from him, and then one from Trevor when Hammer explained the comment in French. He could only assume that was what happened, going by how Hammer held his hands out to indicate a round belly. But wait, why then was Trevor holding his fingers a pinch apart? Was he agreeing Alucard, who prided himself on his superb physique was getting a little... plump?
Certainly not.
Work, wars and witches far from the topics at hand, an easy flowing conversation accompanied the meal. Hammer translated fluently between Trevor and their friends, and Alucard was eternally grateful for that comfort it clearly gave his beloved Hunter. He was content to sit and listen, feeling like he had six centuries ago absorbing the banter between Trevor, Sypha and Grant. Picking at small portions of food just to satisfy his curiosity about the taste. A dessert of wine stewed pears, heavy whipped cream and puff pastry served next, before a deck of cards were laid out to play. The rules of the game of which neither Hammer nor Julius could come to a solid consensus on. But the humans seemed to enjoy that chaotic aspect even more.
Alucard declined to play but sat with them drinking his bubbly with mind and soul soothed by their antics. Thoughts turned inward, he felt before he saw Trevor lean into him. Just a press of his body against the Dhampyre's shoulder as he shuffled and looked at his cards, trying to find a way to outplay Yoko. An easy touch, open, but not overly affectionate. But clear enough to anyone who cared to take a second look. The Dhampyre allowed his head to fall a bit to the side, resting it against Trevor's, as he studied the brunette's hand. Settling on a sequence that would surely trump whatever Yoko had left in play, he plucked the cards and rearranged them in Trevor's hand until the Hunter could see his logic.
“That is cheating, you little brat.” Yoko failed to sound too upset about her following sound loss. “Let me borrow him for the next round.”
“I only have one Dhampyre.” Trevor told the Mage with a sly grin. “He is a rare species so I am keeping him. I may never find another.”
Perhaps... Julius had the right end of things. Perhaps he wasn't just threatening me earlier. Alucard settled in more calmly, watching the two most juvenile of the group bicker back and forth.
All right, Trevor. I... I trust you.
Saying goodbye to his friends sometime nearing or just after three in the morning, marginally drunk and with a come-what-may attitude, Alucard found himself inside his study. The dishes clinking together as Trevor put away the freshly washed tableware hardly distracting him from his course, he unsealed the cold storage and picked apart the magickal field. There were just a few things he needed to start, and he found them without needing to look where to reach. Everything within this stasis he had caressed and wept into enough times throughout these six centuries, they were almost too far gone to complete their final purpose. Their proof of time.
Just to start, he pulled the rest of books he had tried to show Trevor that night nearly two weeks ago, and spread them out on the coffee table along with the others in the study. From now on, he would leave the study wide open for the Hunter to access. An open invitation to look that one as curious as Trevor would not be able to ignore.
When the Hunter was ready to ask him, there would be no choice left but to tell him.
The natural order of things deemed it so.
*****
September 2037 ~ The following Friday, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Humid air, still heavy with the sticky heat of daylight, passed under his leathery wings as he soared alongside the smaller white bat, following it's lead, whether that be in fanciful twirls or languid loops. Both creatures in neither a race nor contest with one another, but rather a shared act of synchronized play. The white bat was always pushing him a little further, to change direction at shorter a distance than he was comfortable normally when avoiding trees or other obstacles, or swoop so low to the earth his belly could feel the grass parting in his wake. Rounding now in a frantic arc, climbing higher and higher, so high the thin density of the air could hardly sustain their flight, the black bat reached the pinnacle of his limit. He could follow no higher with the strength in his wings, and plummeted back towards the yawning chasm of the forest below. Spinning in free fall, unable to catch the wind beneath his wings once more.
There was no fear within the dizzying fall, for as welcome as it had been expected, the white bat returned to his side, deft speed outpacing his drop. The black bat reverted into his Dhampyre form with a grin and waited for the arms that wrapped around his back and under his knees, cradling bridal style, as the rapid descent was gradually slowed under the power of the Vampyre who'd caught him. The feel of the wind and air from so high up was pleasant, more so now that he could enjoy it fully without having to work to stay a such a vaulted view. Just endless trees and stars. Natural ones twinkling in the skies, and man-made ones twinkling in the distance below.
The Vampyre carrying him back down to safety was nearly purring with pleasure when he praised the only demon in a millennia and more that had ever been accepted for his tutelage. “How powerfully you have flown this night, sweet Princeling. Never have you been able to soar along with me to such great heights. What burden has been lifted to allow you such lofty reaches, I do wonder.”
Floating along in more than just one definition of the word, the Dhampyre kicked back, head dropping to stare at the world from the wrong side up, and chuckled at the perpetually shifting spin any focal point he picked out seemed to find. “It must be my best friend THC.” Joachim shared his laugh. “We almost reached the moon, Sensei.”
“Kitten, you've been on the moon since about four joints ago. The entire bag of edibles has not done you any favours either.” The Vampyre chastened halfheartedly. “When will you learn that just because something tastes of candy it does not mean you should eat it as so? Your sweet-tooth will be your undoing one of these days.”
“But you drank all the wine. It was only fair.”
Refusing his logical reasoning, Joachim's descent shifted to a more controlled purposeful motion, the air passing against them more than under them now. “We will finish this in your study, drinking your wine instead, my sweet ivory angel.” The Vampyre decided for them. “You have more than enough wine stashed away to sate us both, and I do wish to hear you play music for me. It has been a long time, Kitten, and your skills will wither if not watered regularly.”
Giddy for no other reason than he was high, Alucard patted down the parts of the Vampyre's coat he could reach. “Ahh, you have more in there. I can feel them.” The witches in the Lost Commune grew the most potent herbs super-humanly possible, and Joachim was always supplied in some fashion. The benefits of having the Great Mother for a grandmother.
“I may be willing to share some more.” Joachim considered carefully. “We will see how accommodating your animals are. I may need to calm my temper if the old man speak out of line.”
“I am having fun, Joachim. Please don't threaten my humans. Is it too much to ask for us all to just have fun?”
Making a placating noise, the Vampyre alighted down on the grass with the softest of thuds. Alucard's small fenced in garden came into spinning focus, a small fire catching his eyes. “Oh Kitten, you have been so miserable and pathetic of late I did have something to show you. I believe you will get a kick out of it.”
“Do I even want to know what this is all about?” A suspicious voice asked, and the sound of it filled Alucard's chest with a warm flutter of beetle wings. Maybe they were jewel beetle wings, who could say?
Eager, the Dhampyre spilled from the Vampyre's embrace, smoothly nailing the landing to save from what almost was an embarrassing face-plant. Making as if he'd intended the whole motion, he used the sudden momentum to dive roll over the flames, falling into place just before Trevor Belmont. The Hunter leaned back in surprise as he knelt before him, hands on either side of his pretty Hunter's slender yet toned legs. In Trevor's hands was the French story he had been finishing up. The one he'd been in the middle of when duty had called far back in the year 1479. The Hunter had started from the beginning last Sunday and looked to be in the final pages by the fire before Alucard had so rudely disturbed him.
“I'm so sorry.” He laughed uncontrollably. “I should let you finish your book, you're so close. But you looked so inviting out in the night air and lit up by the fire.” Warm muscled thighs under his palm's caress tensed, but Alucard really couldn't understand why. It was such a wonderfully electric 'last days of summer' kind of night, and Trevor had always seemed to enjoy his touch before. Why tense up under his affection now? Pretty, beguiling Trevor Belmont, and his irresistible charms.
“Your eyes are weird again, Adrian.” Trevor's own narrowed as he studied the inebriated Dhampyre before him. Whatever Trevor saw in him compelled the Hunter to reach out and check for a fever that was not to be found. How sweet, that Trevor Belmont. Always looking after him.
“He is not ill, my little chouchou, do not concern yourself with that. He is simply... dumber than usual.” Explained the elder Vampyre so matter of factually, sweet Trevor Belmont seemed to take him at his word. The pale shape in the moonlight drew closer, sliding in beside the most adorable human in all the realms, arm curling around the Hunter's waist all too knowingly. As if there was a degree of familiarity shared between them Alucard knew for a fact there was not. “Now you, my lovely little porcelain Lapin, are the one I have missed the most these passing days. How have you fared in such a tiny gilded cage, with such dreadful company to keep?”
“Oh, I have been quite content in this fancy little prison. Alucard has found this book I was in the middle of reading back home. I am ever so eager for the chance to finish it.” The Hunter hinted at obviously, all but telling the two drunk and high Moroi straight to bugger off and leave him to the final chapter. Joachim flatly ignored the dismissal, and hell if Alucard was going to leave his favourite most beloved person alone with Joachim just to oblige the sound dismissal. Crimson eyes were broadcasting to the world the Vampyre's enamoured heart. Who knew what he'd get up to if given free reign and access to Alucard's most precious possession. Trevor, ever so clever, quickly realized the pair of demons were going nowhere anytime soon and had the gall to outwardly sigh in their faces. “I guess I can finish this later.” He sighed again.
“Petite Lapin, you could read me the telephone book and I would be satisfied.” Joachim's velvety voice escaped just shy of a moan. The Vampyre, demon of Desire of the highest order, entertained himself by playing with the zipper on the human's sweater, the hemming of his sleeves, and the tangles of his hair. All things Trevor took in great stride, a polite yet tight smile slicing the otherwise rigid stone expression.
“Joachim, my new friend.” Trevor's own tone was musical, but Alucard knew his lovely Hunter inside and out. He knew the Hunter was not very pleased at the forced attention and touch, and it made him laugh without restraint. Trevor was his, and Joachim's coddling would not work. “I am neither a rabbit nor a vegetable.”
“I beg to differ. Either would be a fine addition in my stew.” The Vampyre's petting intensified, adding much to the strain on the Hunter's face. “Your skin is so soft and white, Lapin, just like the pelt of your namesake.”
“All right then. How may I help you two? May I get you something?” The Hunter stood quite suddenly, attempting to shake free of all the limbs resting upon his person, Alucard's included. “You know what, do not answer that. I will go find something to get or do all on my own.” It was not a bad effort, but the poor brunette's escape was easily thwarted by Joachim's Vampyric speed and ability to levitate. The Vampyre opened the door for the Hunter, but of course followed after him inside. “Oh, you don't have to do that. You should stay outside with your little shadow.” The Hunter insisted to no avail.
What was Alucard to do but also play the shadow Trevor had called him? So he did. He followed again when Joachim insisted on pulling the Hunter by hand into the open study, and further still when Joachim lead an apprehensive Trevor Belmont towards the piano. Nestled neatly within it's case on Alucard's grande piano was the well crafted and cared for violin Joachim was partial towards. The Vampyre released the instrument from it's resting spot and with a wicked grin and a flash of his eyes, playfully skirted the Hunter until he could slip behind and catch the man in his embrace. The violin was quite persistently placed in the Hunter's hands in spite of every protest and excuse under the sun the brunette cobbled together until in a momentous moment for the history books, Trevor Belmont – of all people – gave up and just let the Vampyre have his way. After that shocking surrender the impromptu lessons began. How to hold the damn thing took a half hours time on it's own. Squeaky, scratchy, and occasionally ear-splitting scales came next.
Alucard found the whole scenario kind of hysterical. In all their travels towards what could have been their certain doom, Trevor Belmont had been crafty, skilled, intelligent and capable of handling everything their journey had thrown their way. The Hunter's adaptability had been second only to his determination. In no situation they'd encountered had he'd ever seen Trevor in this fashion before. So completely out of his depth, unreasonably vexed, and failing so poorly at a task. The beleaguered thing even went so far as to ask Joachim how long he was to be tortured, to which the Vampyre taskmaster insisted he was not, he was being granted an opportunity to better himself. On the Dhampyre's end, his vision traded spinning from one poison to another. Bottle after bottle of wine was polished off, watching his Hunter's disposition change gradually over the hours from vexation to frustrated determination, and settling some time later upon a disquieting, expressionless concentration. Every squeaked note, an insult Trevor took personally. Whether that was because the Hunter believed Joachim was not going to let him get away until he brought the exercise to a satisfactory conclusion or not, who could say?
The musical scales were sliding high and falling low with amateurish but detectable differentiation when Alucard decided it be best not to miss this golden opportunity to get some sketches roughed out and take some pictures of Trevor's greatest struggle. Entirely for Alucard's own amusement, of course. Joachim had now walked them closer to the piano so he could hit the keys in ascending and descending order for the Hunter to hear how close he was to the pitch, and follow along. The Vampyre, overtly pleased with the progress, was having to reach out and correct Trevor's form and stance, or how he was holding the violin or the bow less and less. Alucard blocked out several compositions of the Lesson from Hell(TM), but settled on fleshing out just one. Set at a perfect angle in which he could clearly capture the exchange between Man versus Moroi; The stony, expressionless to the point one could even categorize it as disdain on Trevor, juxtaposed in the face of Joachim's wicked enjoyment.
“Precious Little Rabbit, I knew you would be able to do it. You have a creative air about you. An veritable artist's spirit.” Compliments came easy with Joachim when he was enamoured with you, Alucard knew, so he did not take too much stock in the Vampyre's assessments of Trevor's musical talents. To his own trained ears, the notes still sounded like the exhausted bow-strokes of an unwilling student after far too long a practice session.
“My back hurts.” The Hunter spoke lowly in a flat tone, as if entirely removed from his own body. “I am twenty-three... No, I suppose now it's twenty-four years old. And my back hurts.”
“There is far too much focus on your technique, you see, that you are forgetting to allow your body to move in sync with the music, Chouchou. It is no wonder your spine rebels, when the body is meant to dance alongside the notes.” Constructive criticism wholly dismissed with a sarcastic side-eye, the ancient Vampyre's adoration of his brunette captive reached critical mass. Leaving the piano, clawed hands found their way to the Hunter's waist, trailing lower until they were so perfectly placed so as to press thumbs into the tender flesh along the base of Hunter's spine. Joachim was delighted when the man let out a strangled yelp, and encouraged to keep kneading away at fatigued muscle. “Poor little Lapin, how stiff you've been allowed to become. Were you never taught how to relax? Or does my dumb halfbreed simply have no idea how to care for a treasure such as yourself? I keep promising I can show you how you deserve and should be treated, if you'd only just let me.”
“Your form of treatment was to have me stand here all night fighting with your tiny whatever this is called.” Affect returned, the Hunter sounded downright exasperated. “It's daylight, Joachim. If you think a little therapeutic rub-down is going to make me forget you just had me stand here all damn night for a perverse form of amusement, you will be sorely mistaken.”
“Oh my, little Bunny Rabbit, you have been acting so docile and oh so sweetly of late, it is kind of exciting to see some fire and spice out of you again.” Joachim was incorrigible, and it seemed Trevor had finally come to understand that. It had taken a little longer than most. The Vampyre ceased his kneading in order to wrap his arms around the agitated Hunter and delighted in the hiss of air Trevor inhaled, undeterred from toying with his prey.
“I didn't tell you to stop.” Trevor grit out. “You caused the problem, so you fix it.” Once Joachim complied, more than happy by the looks of it to be doing so, Trevor set the violin and bow down near their case and fixed his flat ire filled gaze in Alucard's direction. “As for you,” He pointed a finger for emphasis. “What have you been doing all this time? Scribbling and drinking? How about sharing one of those drinks with me, you selfish glutton? You just left me here to entertain your guest for hours while you kicked back and contributed nothing. Agonizing hours full of pain and anguish trying to learn how to play whatever that thing is called.”
So adorable, that Trevor Belmont. The Dhampyre could only acquiesce and pour the poor man a drink. Abandoning his sketches in various states of completion save that perfect depiction of the hilarious face-off and defeat of the Belmont Hunter of Legend, he carried the refilled goblet he'd been drinking from right to the Hunter's lips. Unable to contain his own Desire demon instinct to touch and fondle, his hands found their way to Trevor's shoulders, sliding around until he was able to rub tiny circles into the tendons along the back of the Hunter's neck as he watched the delectable creature before him slake it's thirst. Joachim had been correct about one thing. The Hunter did seem tightly wound up.
“Trevor...” Alucard chuckled, trying to whisper but failing to keep his tone consistent. The absurdity of the moment was sinking in. “Do you know you have a two thousand year old Vampyre massaging your back?”
“I feel like I am two thousand years old and owed a little pampering after putting up with him all night.” The Hunter explained around sips of wine. “Were you enjoying yourself?”
Giddy and lacking any sense of self control, he leaned in to excitedly share. “Oh yes! I flew higher into the sky than I have ever flown before, last night. I was in the stars, Trevor.” He could see the Hunter was giving him a strange but sweet look. Lisa had given him such looks when he was a boy, as he was telling her embellished tales of the hunts or lessons alongside his father. Alucard wasn't quite sure how the connection was made... He had not thought about his mother is ages. Yet Lisa had just danced across his mind, and with her memory brought a sense of homesickness... And Trevor was... His giddiness momentarily leeched, he found himself returning the Hunter's strange but loving expression. Home is... Alucard paused briefly to trade a look with Joachim, his thought petering out before he could complete it. “Well... I was in the stars... but it is much better to be down here with you, I think.”
“Petite Lapin, does that sappy drivel actually work on you?” Joachim teased, giving Alucard a little quirk of his lips.
“If you must know, it does.” Trevor confessed. “But only when it comes out of his mouth, so don't try it.”
The Dhampyre gave the Vampyre a little quirk of his own lips. He possibly would have gone so far as sticking his tongue out, but Trevor was right in front of him, and he'd prefer to maintain a modicum amount of respect. He was already coming off a high and still heavily drunk. Enough vices, addiction and character flaws out on display for one night. Also, he was almost sure he could recall Joachim biting the tongue off of the last person who did that to him. It was a little hazy, like most nights spent in the Vampyre's company. Or like the nights recovering after having been in the Vampyre's company.
“Who would have believed demons in love could be so saccharine, it'd make my fangs ache.” The Vampyre threw up his hands and walked away to filch more wine from Alucard's dwindling stash. On his way back towards the abandoned violin, he did weave around in order to push Trevor into Alucard's waiting arms. “Here, let me help you get to your destination, little Rabbit. I'm sure my Kitten will pet you if you ask him to. As well he should.”
“I'm not sure what kind of entertainment you were hoping for, but I don't put on live shows.” Trevor replied with an exhaustion induced sigh. The refusal to be on display did not keep the Hunter from staying in place when Alucard started to knead his back in place of Joachim. Or keep him from being lead back to the couch to sit between the Dhampyre's thighs so that his ligaments could be better attended to. Joachim's pitch-perfect and precise notes filled the room for nearly an entire rendition of Paganini Caprice No. 4 before the slender Hunter in his grasp whispered a compliment of his own. “That feels incredible...You are much better at this than he was.”
Tchaikovsky's The Snow Maiden playing now in the background, Alucard urged Trevor to further lean against him, allowing better access to dig into the small of the Hunter's back muscles. They could see each others eyes this way, and shared the close and connected moment in the music. Alucard willed an apology through his touch with each knot he worked out. “I hope you are not too put out by your experience.” He whispered, now with far more control and sobriety, beside the Hunter's ear. “The violin has a steep learning curve for beginners, I have been told. I cannot play any better than he forced you to.” He shared with another soft chuckle.
Trevor gave him a wry look but let the comment lay. “Tell me, is this what demon's normally do when they spend time together? Drink too much, fly into the clouds, and put on impromptu concerts?”
“Sometimes.” Alucard admitted, and confessed further. “We also like to race freely through the woods, or hunt down our next meal, same as you. Other times we take mind altering substances and then argue about which is the correct breakdown of themes and messages in art and literature.” More mischievous now, he continued. “Joachim likes to play pranks, and has a penchant for giving people a fright for a laugh. Never anything actually dangerous, mind you. But a hell of a good fright. Most of the time, however, we just cozy up together and reminisce about the past, how things used to be, or how people used dress and act. It sounds pretty normal, doesn't it?”
“Actually, it does... It kind of reminds me about how you told me once the little harpy and beastmen kids would pick on you when you were a boy. It doesn't seem like demons and humans are that different when it comes to so many things.” The Hunter fell contently silent, Giuseppe Tartini's Devil's Trill Sonata floating by in the morning air, comfortable enough to close his eyes as Alucard ceased kneading and simply wrapped him up in his arms.
It felt... Good. So good. To be allowed this open access and unafraid to freely touch and hold what he most desired, and have that desire forgive his excessive whims and welcome his touch. The scent off Trevor lulled him, and he found in no time that he too was closing his eyes. Certainly they dozed off for a bit. He found Trevor more curled around him when his blurred vision blinked away into clarity, Joachim still playing with the obsessive focus only a demon could possess, and the sun neared it's apex of midday. Far too little sleep for the Hunter, but his rousing had the unfortunate effect of waking the peacefully resting brunette. No amount of gentle urging or soothing would get Trevor to just close his eyes and chase his dreams again. The music had caught his attention.
“Nearly everything Joachim does is approached like a compulsion.” Trevor whispered, watching the engrossed Vampyre with heavy eyelids. “I believe he is hexed.”
“What are you talking about?” Alucard murmured into the Hunter's hair.
“Just a theory... Let me think it over some more.” The request made, he fell silent in order to listen to the bombastic start of Antonin Dvoarak's Symphony No. 9, Movement 4. “Compulsion behind the music or not, it sounds amazing. I would feel better listening if only I could be certain he played out of his own enjoyment.”
“I wish I could climb inside your head and just live there for a day. You have the strangest thoughts, Trevor Belmont.” The Dhampyre laughed, and while reluctant to do so, sat up to stretch the kinks in his own spine, forcing Trevor to do the same. “Well, since we are both awake... I oiled and burnished your gift the previous night. I left it rest in a coil, so it should be ready for use now. Would you like to see it?” The Hunter found this most agreeable, so Alucard was pleased to lead him over to the work desk along the window and allowed the man to unwrap the freshly created demon smiting tool. It was some of, if not the pinnacle, of Alucard's best work, which he made sure to mention.
From handle to tip, the hydra pelt and silver chain braiding fell in a beautiful gradient from rich sapphire and tanzanite coloured scale to mottled alexandrite and tourmaline. The keeper, overlay and handle knot all a gentle swirl of the colours, the extra demon scales he'd selected providing the grip. The burnished weighted knot at the end had taken the most time to construct, it's purpose both functional and cosmetic. Within the main gemstone, magickally guided silver, gold, and other gems formed the Belmont Family Crest, upon the Shield of Țepeș. Because he was a perfectionist, there was also a handmade belt of the same Hydra hide, same care and attention to detail in it's craftsmanship, along with a detachable holster for the matching weapon. With the leftover material he'd fashioned gloves from the pelt, and from the alloys a belt knife, and some throwing blades as well. These were his versions of Trevor's arsenal he recalled from rose-tinted memories.
The last Trevor had seen of the whip in production was while he had been working on the third belly. The Dhampyre had delighted to show him how to braid and roll out the weapon in production. There were not any extra accoutrements completed at the time, however. The Hunter whistled appreciatively as he ran his hands over the gifts, inspecting every inch just as Alucard had before, satisfied. Testing the weight now Trevor uncoiled and re-coiled the weapon as he dragged chairs out of place, a coat rack, all haphazardly about the room. On Alucard's main desk the now empty wine goblet was placed. The odd behaviour caught Joachim's attention, and the violin at last ceased it's music, grey eyes studying the Hunter's every move. Especially when Trevor's last adjustment was to drag Alucard into place within his makeshift obstacle course.
Taking his own place near the couch and piano, the Hunter tested the new weapon's tension within his hands once more and then set the first crack into motion. Footwork lightning fast, and hands just as swift, the whip was pulled, wrapped and even stepped on, all to guide it's blink and you'd miss it path. Weaved through obstacles, and even right by the Dhampyre, the tip shattered the wine goblet with perfect precision. Impressive feat, if a little bit of a blood-rush inducement... For an innocent Moroi makeshift obstacle.
“How deadly.” Joachim remarked in a subdued voice. “Kitten, you have outdone yourself.”
“I love it, Adrian.” Trevor enthused. “It feels just like my family heirloom, only the handle is fitted perfectly for my hands. Thank you for working so hard on it all week.”
In a more sardonic fashion, Joachim followed suit. “Yes, let me thank you as well for adding yet another threat to our collective continued existence. You are a credit to your people, sweet Princeling.”
The comment drew out a laugh from the Hunter to which Joachim narrowed his eyes at. “It is only a threat in my hands if you are a misbehaving sort of demon. You are a nice and gentle Vampyre are you not, Joachim? You've learned to coexist with the... livestock?” Trevor held his ground as the Vampyre placed his violin back in it's case and came to inspect the whip. Reaching out to touch the overlay and grip, and hissing when it predictably burned his flesh.
“Even the handle hurts.” Joachim grumbled with a quick flash of his fangs at the pain. Grey eyes fixed on Trevor's grey-blues as he loomed over the smaller Hunter. “Tell me your secret, Chouchou. I would very much like to know how this trick is done.”
“The shot? No trick. Just skill.” Trevor replied with a small but smug smile. “Maybe a little practice, if I am being honest.”
“That's not...” Joachim stopped himself and exhaled audibly. He studied the now slightly confused Hunter before changing his focus towards Alucard, studying the Dhampyre for an equal amount of time. Whatever answers he found caused yet another sigh. “You two are made for each other. You're both... so oblivious.” With a shake of his head and a shrug, the Vampyre pushed passed the Hunter, throwing a comment over his shoulder. “I am going to make brunch. I believe it has been a while since I tasted something of the culinary kind. If you have suggestions, keep them to yourself. I am not taking any.”
With a raised eyebrow, Trevor shook his own head and fell into assisting Alucard to get the office furniture back in organized order, and to safely dispose of the glass shatters. “Does he cook... normal things?” Trevor asked in a hushed whisper. “I am hungry, but not hungry enough to risk life and limb over.”
“I guess that depends on your opinion of Welsh food.”
Realization setting in, Trevor's mouth opened wide in both delight and laughter, connection finally made. “Joachim is the unwashed sheep fucker?” The question was whispered, but the laughter free once Alucard's nod confirmed it. “Well, his coat looks dirty, so I believe it.” Trevor shared another wonderfully playful grin with him before the Hunter moved to return the whip to it's former resting place on the work desk. With a warm sense of pride, Alucard watched him try on the gloves, balance the knives on his fingers, all the while letting out satisfied little affirmations. It was a deeply ego-feeding experience to have Trevor so charmed with his creations, and he couldn't help letting out a little pleased sound himself in response.
“How would you like to try them out tonight? There are a few yokai in the woods by here. Troublesome little pests that multiply quickly.” The Dhampyre nodded when Trevor's attention turned towards him. “That's what I thought. Perhaps we can ask Yoko to come? She did want to show you her witch-fireballs, after all.”
“You know, I am fathoms from home... But it's starting to feel normal here.” Trevor's smile softened. “Here, with you.”
The Dhampyre, feeling nostalgic and still a little homesick, returned the Hunter's gentle smile. “Anywhere with you starts to feel like home to me. Still, I just wish we could settle in one place and actually make our own space once and for all.”
“I am hopeful about that.” Trevor's voice carried all the confidence he'd had the first time a trembling starved boy had stumbled into Lisa's abandoned laboratory and woken up the Scion of Dracula. “When your Witch Coven is dealt with. I am very hopeful about... Creative living arrangements. Now please excuse me, I have got to see what a Vampyre cooking looks like. I have no idea when I will ever see such a feat again. ” When Alucard gave him a strange look for all his sudden interest in Joachim, Trevor added in passing. “It's for research.”
Left with little else to do in the now empty room, he settled for tidying up the remainder of the mess. Collecting far too many empty wine bottles for recycling, returning some scattered papers that had fluttered about in the whip crack's wake, wiping Joachim's fingerprints off his piano, and re-stacking Trevor's French books back neatly on the table. Those he gave a measured look, leaving his hands resting on top of the pile for a sombre moment. The Hunter was almost done the text he had been reading before leaving Wallachia that last time. Soon he would dive into the others, the older possessions. Soon he would know they weren't just old books that looked like his... They were, in fact, his ancient books. Alucard let out a thin even breath that did nothing to calm his nerves, and carried on taking out the recyclable glass.
In his kitchen, he found Joachim being bombarded with questions in French, that the Vampyre answered in kind as they came with a bit of a harried look on his face. Upon the empty plate in front of Trevor, he was placing a freshly fried egg on top of a thick slice of bake bread and cheese, alongside some buttery sautéed leeks, before serving himself. Does everyone speak French except for me? Alucard was starting to wonder. He was also starting to wonder where his plate was once he noticed the batch of what looked like pancake batter sitting mixed up in a bowl by the still sizzling frying pan. Fruits and berries sliced, and hand whipped cream waiting.
“You're making pancakes too?” He asked hopefully, mouth starting to salivate. “I would love pancakes.”
“Crempogs.” Joachim corrected. “They are better than lousy pancakes, you will see.”
“I will be the judge of that... Since when do you know how to speak French, while I am thinking about it?”
“Since forever ago. You do not speak it, so why would I speak it to you? But while I am thinking about it, perhaps you should learn how, so your little pet Rabbit can ask you a thousand and one questions instead. He's quite a nuisance with them.” To this Trevor made what sounded like a very dry, sarcastic, dismissive comment that Joachim tsked at. “That's quite the potty mouth out of you, Little One. You should be fed soap, not delicious brunch.”
“I would like delicious not-pancakes. When are those going in the pan?” The Dhampyre interjected, eager to avoid a spat, but also he really just wanted those damn pancakes. He waved off Joachim's corrected term for fat Welsh pancakes and fetched his own plate, sitting beside Trevor to wait. “You're eating very slow.” He murmured glumly, watching the Vampyre delicately cut his cheesy egg bread concoction into mathematically accurate cubes. To shut him up, Joachim stuffed one the cubes speared on a fork into his mouth before consuming his own. “It's not bad.” Dhampyre said around the mouthful. “But it's not crempogs, is it?” Watching the Vampyre give a huge sigh, scrape his remaining cubes onto Trevor's plate and stand to start frying fat pancakes, Alucard celebrated in a cheery tone. “Thank you!”
“Go answer the door, Kitten. I believe your mongrels are here.”
Alucard quirked his head, but sure enough, he could hear Hammer's Jeep coming down the road. Well this should be an interesting visit. The Dhampyre's mood sunk, fearing all the negative ways such a gathering of personalities could go down. For whatever reason, Joachim was more than happy to tolerate Trevor, but he had never shown anything but lecherous hunger towards Yoko and outright ire for Julius. Maybe mimosas would help? He certainly had enough champagne and Julius kept buying and bringing over orange juice. Using the time it took Hammer to park, he pulled out the OJ and found the champagne, setting both out with some glasses. Meeting his hunter duo outside with a closed door between Joachim and the humans, Alucard opened his mouth to warn them, but all that came out was a nervous laugh. Where to even begin explaining the bizarre scene taking place in his kitchen?
“What's up, Genya?” Hammer asked, picking up on his apprehension immediately as he unloaded some groceries and gear with Julius' help.
“Well... I have a visitor already.” He started, but Yoko's desire to get out of the humidity and into the air conditioning had her pushing them all along back towards the door. “Yoko, seriously?”
The girl seriously did not care, made very evident by her actions, and soon they were all shoved inside the precious temperature controlled dwelling. “Oh wow, it smells amazing in here. What's cooking?”
Hammer quickly agreeing with her clued in Trevor to their presence, whose voice from the kitchen greeted pleasantly. “Uncle Sam!”
“Napoleon!” Hammer called back, just as happily. In a more quiet tone he explained quickly the playful nicknames to Julius and Yoko. “But yeah, what is cooking in here?”
Giving up on warning anyone, Alucard just shrugged a shoulder and replied simply. “Brunch.” He left them to sort out their boots and bags, and returned to his place at the table beside Trevor, who was greedily digging into what should have been Alucard's serving of pancakes... Crempogs. Whatever. “Save some for the rest of us, you hog.” He scolded, and started mixing mimosas. The Hunter had the gall to roll his eyes, but nothing more.
Yoko was the first to find her way to the kitchen, always eager to see what free food was being offered, so she was also the first to stop dead in the entrance way, frozen halfway between horror and revulsion at the sight of Joachim flipping pancakes in her friend's kitchen. Wide-eyed, she mouthed to Alucard a clear silent WTF, and would not budge even after he gave her compensation in the form of a fresh mimosa. Neither did Julius when he looked over her shoulder at what the hold-up was. And Hammer, poor Hammer... He couldn't help but ask too loudly.
“Isn't that the creepy guy you mentioned?” Foot in mouth if there ever was one.
Both Alucard and Julius traded a tense look and even more tensed muscles, but Trevor's snake charming spell on the Vampyre still had him in far too good a mood to take any offence at the insult. Instead, he actually laughed. Non-threateningly. At something a human said. Alucard sat back down with an odd feeling in his stomach, having just realized he'd jumped to his feet, instinct demanding he be ready to put himself between Joachim and poor innocent Hammer. It felt weird to not need to do that. It was weird, right? Oh, he didn't even know anymore. It certainly wasn't expected, and let's leave it at that.
“I've been called much worse, new human pet.” Joachim replied, voice and demeanour, while not jovial, not unfriendly either. “However, there are certain institutions that demand the utmost care, respect, and good manners. Weddings. Funerals... And brunch. So I am sorry to disappoint this morn, in regards to these stories the other animals my Kitten keeps have no doubt been spreading.”
“Kitten?” Hammer questioned.
“That would be me.” Alucard admitted with a deflated sigh. “I am the Kitten. My claws and fangs are cute and teeny-tiny compared to a real Vampyre, so I have been told.”
“I am a rabbit. Or a cabbage. He has not decided yet.” Trevor offered between forkfuls of crempog, in the heavily accented English he was forever improving. “Because I would be tasty in a stew, or something to that effect. Did you want some of this crempog? He will not stop frying them. It should not be wasted.”
“I keep making them because you will not stop eating them, little Rabbit. Or perhaps little Piglet would suit you better today?” The Vampyre scoffed. “You told me you were French. Why are you speaking the tongue of the enemy?”
“Everyone else is speaking so. I thought perhaps it was fashionable. Is it wrong to be in vogue?” The brunette asked out loud but then gave Joachim a wicked smile and dismissive hand-wave. “Why do I ask you? That coat would be a crime in Parisian High Court.”
Against all logic and reasoning, Joachim found the blatant insult to be the height of hilarity. Alucard tried to recall if he had ever heard such an earnest and healthy laughter out of the Vampyre in the past six hundred years, and could not. Nor could he recall such an open an unguarded smile shared in centuries. It was truly a strange sight to behold, made even more bizarre with how lovingly the Vampyre slid another crempog onto the Hunter's plate and dressed it in fruit and whipped cream for the brunette after such a brutal barb. Mood clearly elevated beyond anything Joachim had demonstrated in a long time, the Vampyre sat at the table across from the Hunter, his ghostly sensed but unseen tendrils continuing to prep brunch in his stead. Another frying pan floated by and was greased, more crempog batter was mixed, mimosas poured, cutlery and tableware fetched. A place for all the normally hated humans were set at the table. All while Joachim sat resting his chin on a palm, a wide grin plastered on his visage, watching Trevor Belmont eat the food he'd prepared.
“Petite Lapin.” The Vampyre intoned, dripping with so much affection. “You are absolutely being wasted here with this halfbreed, you have to know that, correct? Are you sure you would not rather come back with me? I can think of all sorts of fun someone like yourself could get into with the right partner in crime.”
Trevor made a small show of pretending to consider the option, but ultimately shook his head. “I am very attached to my Dhampyre. I have seen a lot of your kind, Joachim, but only one of him. He is special, and I am intent upon keeping him. These crempogs are great, though. You can keep coming here to make them instead, yes?”
That is the second time this week he's said I am his. Alucard realized with a flushed kind of sensation climbing in to his own features. The second time, and so openly as well. Could I consider that a public declaration of love? Perhaps... It was a legitimate wonder he found his heart was now aflutter about. Those little beetle wings – bejewelled, perhaps? - beating inside his chest again. Such distracting creatures, always showing up at inopportune times.
Plates now settling down at the vacant spots set for Yoko, Hammer and Julius, and crempogs dressed by invisible ghostly hands, the three stunned humans found themselves awkwardly taking their places, wary scents on all but Hammer, who either did not know or realize how tentative the truce and ceasefire at the kitchen table was. Mimosa glasses chinked in the nervous energy laden air just as the sounds of Joachim's spiritual energy cleaning up the used dishes and placing things in their proper place became the white noise between their polite guarded conversation.
Polite conversation where nothing was said, but no one ever seemed to stop talking ensued. Alucard could see the more Hammer and Yoko took over the bulk of the discussions about a whole lot of nothing, the more lost Trevor became. Their speech so rapid-fire and laden with idiosyncrasies abound. But it was obvious now how he was learning so fast. It was clear Trevor sort of idolized Yoko to a degree, her mannerisms often catching his eyes. Perhaps because she seemed the most youthful of the bunch and thus the one more suitable to emulate. Or perhaps because she was the first person Alucard had told the Hunter was safe in these lands, and she seemed to have proven it to be true. It could be either, really. Or both.
Next his attention fell back on his old longtime Moroi companion. Bizarrely sitting so at ease in the company of humans. This creature who held such contempt and disgust for the soft fleshy livestock. This monster who could not suffer a Belmont or one of their cousin clansmen within a hundred mile radius of him most days. Sure, Joachim had moods – and Alucard did hate to rely on the same term Joachim used to describe Walter Bernhard's cruelty and perverted tortures – but there wasn't quite another term that described Joachim's occasionally emerging tolerances so accurately. Joachim's occasional moods had him gift the Great Mother hundreds of years ago with the Echo Mirror Alucard now carried. To use in case she needed help, which now was used when he needed it. His mood had changed four hundred years ago when he chose to stay once more in the Lost Commune with Alucard at his younger counterpart's behest. Another mood had him unofficially but officially becoming the village babysitter of all things. For the most oddest of reasons, small children seemed to like him, and he begrudgingly at least kept them out of trouble. Perhaps it was all the rules small children had to follow. Joachim did like to follow rules. The same could not be said for teenagers, however. Except when it came to Leila, but that was a whole other story for a whole other day. The Dhampyre had to wonder if this was another of those mood changes. A new tolerance, limited to only for the humans Alucard was friends with, and with whom he worked alongside. A gift of peace from the Vampyre to the Dhampyre? He'd done it before, making such concessions. That's why there were still Man Beasts in the village, for all the complaints of wet fur stench and never seen, but fiercely insisted upon existing, fleas.
When he turned his attention to Julius, he found the elder hunter giving him and everyone else at the table the same silent observation. Julius no longer carried a wary scent, but he was not at ease. Some fine line balanced in only a way Julius could. The Dhampyre did notice his subsequent mimosas became less and less orange and more pure champagne as the meal came to it's natural conclusion. But if he were to be honest, so did his. He'd been straight alcohol for over an hour.
Yellow eyes found their way back again to Joachim, and he started to wonder if the Vampyre was ever going to leave. He'd never stayed in one of Alucard's temporary residences for so long before. It was not their home, he'd say. It was just a weird space Alucard was choosing to keep his stuff in currently. Was this some ploy to remind him what it was like having another demon around at all hours? To remind him what home in the village was like? Maybe... Then he was back to watching Julius again, staring at Joachim with quite a purposeful look to his eyes. Blaming it on the two days of either being high or drunk, Alucard finally started to suspect that Julius was probably wondering if there was some way to talk to the Vampyre about his middle-man information dealings. To try and get some more elaboration out of the ancient Moroi regarding their final hunt in Japan. Julius did not waste time under normal circumstances. The hunter should have no doubts or reservations about asking if only... If only Trevor was not here. His English... He is getting too good to be able to ask anything so specific without tipping Trevor off. Julius is holding his tongue and missing an opportunity out of kindness and consideration for both of us.
Feeling a little guilty for holding Julius' tongue, Alucard waited for a moment in the conversation that absorbed the humans in order to quietly shift into Welsh, the only language he could think of that was not known to any but Joachim and himself, and whispered under his breath, barely moving his lips. Only a Vampyre's ears could hear. “What are your intentions here, Joachim?”
Short pointed ears twitching, the Vampyre stood to gather plates, but mimicked his secretive little speech pattern perfectly. “How rare a treat to hear this language on your tongue, Kitten.”
“Joachim.”
“Kitten, I am here because you called to me through the Echo Mirror with such a sense of anxiousness and desire for comfort. You do reek of it under your mask.”
“I...did? Are you sure? I've only picked it up this week to clean it, honestly.”
Evidently growing tired of the whisper game, Joachim turned sharply to kneel before him, hands braced on either side of the stool he perched on. Sticking to Welsh, he continued in a conversational volume. “Kitten, Kitten, Kitten... Truly it is like you never listen to a thing I teach you. The magick is attuned to you now. Your heart will echo to me, and what reverberated in mine was your nerves and sorrow. You still stink of this weakness, so I am still here. Until I am satisfied it is just a dumb human component of your heritage that lay at the heart of this, or until we are able to, now how is it put... Turn your frown upside down?”
“Joachim...” He started, unsure where he was going. With a shake of the head, he settled on business over personal problems. “If Julius and Yoko wanted to speak with you about some of the information you have brought us, would you be willing to do that? Would you be able to talk about anything without telling them about the Lost Commune or complaining about Man Beast neighbours?”
“That is not what you meant to ask me, Kitten.” Joachim rolled his eyes and stood up. In English now, he waved a hand towards the humans, including them all in his address. “I will be more than happy to answer some questions about your little witch hunt for your precious pets, my Kitten. You will of course, in turn, indulge me. I want to hear you play for me. It has been a great long while, and your skills are wasted in disuse.” Turning to Trevor, he smiled wickedly. “And you, little Piglet, are going to learn a simple baseline melody today to play alongside Kitten. We will pick up where we left off in your lessons.”
“Oh, hell no.” Trevor rebuked. “You can not make me stand there for hours again with that torture device.” The Vampyre's sadistic grin said otherwise, and he practically picked Trevor up off the stool to carry him. “Please do not.” The Hunter begged. It was not something Alucard was used to hearing out of Trevor Belmont. He wasn't sure he'd heard the Hunter beg for mercy... ever, in fact. The next few attempts to get out of the inevitable were in French, sounds of growing desperation fading as he was hauled off towards the study.
Hammer's raised his eyebrows and laughed, sharing in a low voice. “I think your boyfriend just propositioned that Vampyre to get out of whatever this lesson is.”
“Yeah, that's not going to work. Joachim will play with anything that catches his fancy for a while, but he only sleeps with other demons.” He divulged without thinking about the over-sharing. Turning to Julius he gave a small apologetic smile. “You may ask him what you have on your mind. He will answer. Trevor seems to be having a very... stabilizing effect on his erratic moods.”
From out of the study came the violin notes sliding up and down the scale, still amateurish, but competent enough to suffice for a high school musical. Three simple three note steps were being practised next, with the intent no doubt to combine them into the baseline Joachim expected Alucard to play around. Step one, step two, step one, step three, and repeat.
“I do have to wonder why that is.” Julius spoke offhandedly, but he waved the comment away himself, expecting no excuse or answer. “A Vampyre music instructor sounds like a right nightmare to me, but since I'll just be asking about some demonology, shall we join your friends in your office, Alucard?” A small quirk of the lips. “It might be fun to watch the little guy suffer a bit too.”
“Aww, my poor new buddy.” Yoko sympathized. “At least he's not being sexually harassed, I guess. Do not recommend.” In a quieter voice she continued. “Gotta say though, Al, I am super all over the place emotionally about this guy just laying around all over your bachelor pad. I survived an all girls secondary school and their cliques, so I am pretty good at knowing when I am hated. Senor Creepy loathed us huge time, but suddenly today he's fine? Not even the bitchiest Prima Donna can fake a friendship like this guy is doing. His aura is even calmed. The creepy Vampyre.” The Mage stressed. “Calm aura.”
Apologetic smile now turned towards the girl, the Dhampyre stood and bid the humans to follow. “Come along. Best take advantage of his good mood whilst you are able.” He lead them to his study and couldn't help finding humour in the pure contempt Trevor was casting in Joachim's direction with his eyes. The Vampyre had grabbed the yard stick off his drawing table to aid in pushing the Hunter back into proper form whenever he relaxed or shifted, or lowered the arm with the bow too far. “Please get comfortable.” He urged his guests, finding wine and goblets for everyone, pouring his own, and stepping behind his piano to take a seat. “I think I can work with that melody.” He announced to the teacher and unwilling student before him, and started to play, creating an original piece of music on the fly. Something he and Joachim used to do in the past, but not something he could say he'd done in... A very long while. Trevor shared a look with him as his fingers plinked little notes in tune, a mix of relief at not being left alone in this trial, along with a touch of something that coloured his cheeks rose. There was no scent of embarrassment detectable, so Alucard could not quite say what it was.
Joachim, now satisfied with his forced duet, took a seat on the armrest of the couch near Hammer, where Yoko and Julius also sat. Close enough his yard stick could still prod Trevor back into proper form, and far enough from Julius as the rules regarding manners in polite company would allow. Alucard supposed that Joachim found Hammer to be the least offensive of his 'pets'. The Vampyre downed near the entire goblet of wine before he deigned to look at the hunters, and spoke while overfilling another glass. “You have my attention, tiny human girl, and geriatric man. However, I have been pleaded with not to speak about my home shared with Kitten and sweet darling Leila.” Then getting distracted, Joachim piped up with a fervour in his eyes. “You know what this duet needs? Leila and her flute to make it a proper symphony! Kitten, wouldn't you agree?”
“I really don't.” Alucard grit out. “Leila and I do not get along, Joachim. You know that. Now please stop talking about her.”
“Such a sore subject with you. Leila is a delight, Kitten. You are missing out.”
“Joachim, please.”
The Vampyre shrugged but at last let the topic fall. “Out with it then, human girl. What may I assist you with?”
Yoko flinched a little at being directly addressed by her usual tormentor, but the Mage steeled her nerves and responded in a level tone. “I was not aware I was going to be the first one on the spot.” She began. “I suppose I am curious just who you've been speaking to that seems to know how these girls are being recruited online. Are they also in this Coven? Do they know anything about their High Priestess?”
Joachim took a moment to push Trevor's arm back into place before answering. “The halfbreed's rules of engagement are going to make answering these types of questions quite troublesome.” With a deep breath, the Vampyre made an attempt. “Not all the powerful witch clans are in your little Church group, girl. I am known to many who enjoy living peacefully outside the rules of your suffocating establishment. They are not silos, and they have their own connections. The answer is no, however, in regard to them belonging to this coven you hunt. They have their own sisterhood. Why they have chosen to help in the small ways they can is simply because they do not wish this attention-seeking coven to create the conditions for another Spanish Inquisition.”
“So we catch them before there are enough people looking for witches, and your friends are spared being found in the process.” Yoko nodded to herself. “That is fair. Some of them must have been reached out to online by this coven to join. That is how they knew the recruitment process.” The Mage nodded again. “Was there anything else they knew about the coven? Or the ones who tried to get them to join the cause?”
“Sweet Leila would know more if there was more to know on that subject, but I am not allowed to speak of Leila.” Joachim responded with a little squint of his eyes and toss of his head at Alucard. “So I have nothing for you.”
“Is Leila a witch?” Yoko asked.
“A perfect angel.” Was all Joachim spared, much to Alucard's relief.
“Perhaps you can help me with this, then. No secrets about witchy friends need to be divulged, I would think.” Julius seized his moment in the lull to pull out his tablet and hand it over the Joachim. “Do you recognize this creature?” The old hunter waited for Joachim to study what had to be the Belmont Bestiary image of the Lilin or whatever denomination of Desire demon the inky black devil they'd seen was. “We saw what we believe to be this creature in the forests of these lands. We are assuming it to be a demon of Desire, a Lilin or something close to that. It has a very powerful beguiling aura that works on a Dhampyre.”
“You did not see this creature.” Joachim dismissed the image and handed it back to Julius. “That is a drawing... and a poor one at that... Of Lilû.”
“Leeloo?” Yoko repeated, not quite getting the pronunciation. “Is Leelou a Lilin or an incubus or...?”
“Lilû.” The Vampyre corrected. “Lilû is the great Father of all us demons of Desire if legends are to be taken as fact. The father of the great warrior king Gilgamesh too, if you believe the Epic holds any truth to it.”
“I feel like you are the one telling me a story, Vampyre.” Julius said flatly. “I did see this creature with my own eyes. A monster that bent light around and away from itself. It could fly, glide, climb and swim. The black membrane around it's body was fluid and it peeled back to show Alucard it's face. Our Dhampyre partner insists it was quite beautiful beneath. So if it cannot be this mythological Lilû, what do you reckon it could be?”
“You really saw that?” Joachim asked him with disbelief painted all over his features. He made a disgruntled sound when Alucard confirmed he had seen that slinky inky tree climber. “Kitten, if you are not telling me a lie, then you did see your progenitor. That drawing, as poorly crafted as it is, is certainly of Lilû.”
“What is a Lilû, then? What is this legend?” Julius pressed, notebook and pen pulled out of nowhere. “Is the Lilû dangerous, and how many of them are there?”
Joachim made a pensive noise, but he did speak after a few drawn out moments. “There are thousands of tales, Sumerian, Akkadian, Babylonian. The short version is Lilû has walked this earth as long as there has been earth to walk. His children became the first Vampyres and Lilin, and from those Succubi, Incubi, so on and so forth.”
“If the legends are to be believed, you said.” Alucard pointed out. He was having a hard time believing a mythological proto-Desire demon was out and about in a Japanese forest following the whims of a human woman. Witch or not, she was human.
“I believe it.” Joachim surprised them all by admitting. “I believe I have seen Lilû. Thirteen hundred years ago in what is now Jerusalem's territory. What you described is what I saw. An impossibly alluring demon whose spell caught even my Master at the time. It used it's charms only to flee. You will never forget the moment you meet your maker, Kitten, so I would think even an obliviously stupid halfbreed like yourself would recognize how special the encounter was. If you did indeed come across Lilû.”
“All right.” Alucard surrendered to the insult, if only to move the conversation forward. “What would Lilû, if Lilû were real and in a Japanese forest, be doing following the orders of a Witch? I will assume Lilû is not your run of the mill familiar.”
“Mating? Making little baby Desire demons?” Joachim threw out the most logical solution. “The last time I heard of something that may have been a Lilû sighting was during the Demon War of 99. You know, the one where the Castle vanished for good? A creature that sounded very much like Lilû was seen in the Castle, so I have been told. It scampered into the forest after this old man took out Dracula once and for all.”
“Joachim!” Alucard slammed the fallboard of the piano down, but it was too late. The violin's simple melody cut as the Vampyre held all of Trevor Belmont's focus. Anxiety rushed blood past his ears so suddenly, so terribly loud, he could scarcely hear what was being said around him. He could see the Vampyre pick up on his panic, and levitate to his feet closer to the door, as if expecting an attack of some kind and desiring an easy path to flee. Trevor was trading calculating looks between both demons, but he settled for the three humans on the couch. He settled for Yoko. “Trevor...” Alucard reached out, but the Hunter ignored him.
“I am confused, Yoko.” Trevor placed the Violin on the coffee table and knelt down before her to better study her expression. “I was told the Castle was last in this Japan, but that it is gone for good. Joachim is saying just now that this happened during a Demon War of 99? Julius killed Dracula?” He looked towards the elder hunter. “You defeated Dracula?”
Julius looked towards Alucard briefly, but he could see in the elder man's eyes, the time for the truth was nigh. “I did, Trevor. I defeated Dracula and released his soul from the Ebony and Crimson stones. The Castle lost it's anchor in Dracula and has been banished to the Veil in-between.”
“In this Demon War of 99. I was in the Castle last in 1479...” The Hunter shook his head, the math not adding up in any way the poor thing's mind would rationalize it. Alucard watched on as Trevor struggled to puzzle it out, heart in his throat and grief open on the Dhampyre for all to see. “I... I know the Castle moves. Not always just in place... but in time too. It's in my Bestiary...” Struggling to continue, the Hunter switched back to Romanian, no longer able to juggle both his burgeoning emotions and practising a new language. He shrugged out of his sweater and raised his slash scarred forearms for all the humans to see. “I counted a year, I believe. While this was being done to me, before I couldn't stand to count any more. But I know it still happened after that. I know I was captive for what felt like such a long terrible time.”
“Trevor...” Yoko reached out to hold his shoulders, her small act of comfort shattering the Hunter's grip on his tears. They began to escape here and there from his eyes as she gave him small squeezes of reassurance. Willing him some courage to make the logical leap.
“How... long?” Trevor finally asked after the most tense Belmont Pause Alucard had ever witnessed. “This war of 99... Fourteen... Ninety-nine?” The question was barely a breath in the room. “Have I been missing... for twenty years?”
Yoko, like Julius, in all her kindness bowed to the truth. It had been a long three month dance around fact and fiction, and she too could see the writing on the wall. Small hands found Trevor's and held tightly as she spoke. “The great Demon War happened in 1999, Trevor. I am twenty-six years old. I was born in 2011.” The Hunter let out a disbelieving laugh but she held him fast, looked him dead in the eyes and repeated herself. “I was born in 2011. Twelve years after Julius vanquished Vlad Dracula Țepeș for good. That was in 1999. That was thirty-eight years ago.”
“No.” Trevor refused her words and pushed away, knocking the stack of aged French books and the violin to the floor as he bumped into the table. His eyes fell on the texts and raised towards Alucard, cobalt searching gold for some sense of safety or life line. He found none in Alucard's stricken features. “Are these... actually mine?” He laughed again when Alucard gave the smallest nod. “They are in such poor condition... Why... Why do they look like that, if they are mine?”
“Trevor... I have had your books for five hundred and fifty-seven years now.” The Hunter refused his words as well, wrapping his arms around himself. The wild laughter that broke out reminded Alucard of the unfettered breakdown the Hunter had succumbed to when facing his own mortality after their escape from the Sunken City of Poltergeists. Where Trevor had nearly lost his life were it not for Alucard's rash actions. The connection moved him into action. To do whatever could be done to save his friend some of his sanity before he snapped completely.
He found his way to the cold storage unit and threw it open, seals and wards smashed without care. There would be no need for them after this. From out the depths he pulled old equipment. Well worn boots, the old padded vest, the crisscrossed harness that had held the Hunter's throwing knives. Everything near rotten with age, but distinguishable. He lay them out on the ground for Trevor to see, and kept digging. He pulled a travel pack, a threadbare blanket woven with a distinct pattern, and some journals. He could see Trevor's eyes widening as he recognized the goods, but not the condition they were now found in. Boots and trinkets the Hunter may refute, and even convince himself they could not belong to him. So with great care, Alucard laid out the final piece of his proof. The long elaborate cross embellished leather coat the Hunter had worn on their journey together. The custom one of a kind piece. The extra pockets sewn in just as the Hunter had left it. It's age and fragility undeniable.
“Why... does it look like that?” Trevor whispered, drawn towards the garment. One arm was forced from the tight hold he had on himself to reach out and touch it. A trembling hand caressed the leather, flakes of it disintegrating even under such a light touch. The hand found it's way unbidden to the small rectangular pocket, and inside to pull what Trevor and Alucard both knew would be found. A small waxboard, no larger than a deck of cards. “This is mine...” Trevor whimpered. The latch slid free and inside was exactly what both Dhampyre and Hunter knew would be displayed. Some rough notes on the first two boards from a time spent in Wallachia, but on the final two boards... There was the laundry list of items Trevor had sent Grant and Alucard to fetch in Fetra. He had kept the list, Alucard always assumed, because when Alucard had returned the waxboard, he'd written a small love poem inside. He always assumed Trevor had kept it because of his love note. “That is my writing... and that is your poem.” He was looking accusatorily towards Alucard now, as if the Dhampyre was playing some great joke at his expense. As if Alucard could ever be so cruel to the one person he loved most of all.
The pain in Trevor's eyes wrenched his own heart, but he steeled himself and pointed to the breast pocket. “Check the pocket. You can't deny what we are telling you after that.”
As if possessed, the Hunter reached out to pull the pocket open, it's age so advanced it tore free in his grip. The scrap now in his hands, he inspected the flimsy leather and found what Alucard had wanted... and what Trevor needed to see. There was a small token sewn into the material. A silver coin inscribed with arcane symbols, imbued with Sypha's magick. It was warm to the touch, the remnants of her power still holding after hundreds of years. The tears were falling unbidden now. Trevor shook his head and blinked away as best he could, but more were always there. “How did you know..?”
“Sypha told me she placed that token in your coat. So she would know you were still alive before you left Wallachia that last time. When I went to search for you, she said she could not feel the token. It needed your aura to complete it's enchantment. All I found... was the coat.” Reaching out now to touch it himself, he poked his fingers through the slash in the chest of it. The tear mirrored on the back of the garment. From Trevor's story upon first waking, Alucard was able to put the facts in order concerning the mysterious damage at last. “See the rip? This is where Isaac stabbed you.”
“No... Just no.” Trevor closed his eyes and that sanity slipping laughter took hold again. “This is just cruel humour. You... You can't mean any of this. I don't know why my things looks like this, but it can't be because I have... I mean, come on. I would be dead from old age.”
“Trevor... Part of the mystery Julius, Yoko and I are trying to solve with this Witch, is why she had you in her possession. How she had you. Where you came form. We don't know... We don't have the answer. Just the facts. And the facts are it is it the year 2037. You have been missing since 1479, and it has been five hundred and fifty-eight years since I last laid eyes on you.”
“No!” The Hunter snapped viciously before the maddening laughter reclaimed him.
On impulse alone, Alucard reached out to grab him. The sound of his slap rang out in the stillness of the office. Dropping the stunned Hunter back to his knees, Alucard sifted through the books on the floor to find the old collection of war songs. Trevor's oldest and most thumbed though book. He turned the pages until he found the little greasy hand print. A child's little hand print, right smack in the middle of a page. This he shoved into Trevor's hands until he was sure the Hunter would look.
“Christopher...” The Hunter trembled. “You're telling me my son is dead. Both of them.”
“And your daughters. And Sypha. Grant... Everyone has passed on, Trevor. That is what I am telling you.”
“I have never even seen my daughters.” Voice so small... so fragile.
Alucard grit his teeth and pushed forward. The truth needed to be told straight. Hard. The truth was not malleable. Unchangeable. “You never will. Soleil died in 1557 and Luna in 1562.”
Trembling uncontrollably, the Hunter dropped the book and pushed away, bounding onto his feet, and stepped back from the scene around him. Hammer and Julius were on their feet stuck somewhere between wanting to help, but not knowing how best to. Yoko was almost at Trevor's side, but he stepped away from her reach when she tried to comfort him. Cobalt eyes, glistening with free falling tears, kept their hold on Alucard's. Searching his for anything...anything at all that would let him believe this was all a poorly constructed joke. The poor wretched thing could find nothing, and Alucard's heart shattered for him.
The Dhampyre too tried to close the distance, to reach out for Trevor and hold him together while the fractures split across his mind and body. Like he had promised to do so long ago. There was nothing he'd like more in the world than to pick Trevor's pieces up off the floor and safeguard them until they could be repaired. The Hunter kept backing away, trembling, shaking his head. He would not let Yoko, Julius, or Alucard near him. His retreat brought him Joachim, back hitting the Vampyre's chest, and by some ancient human instinct still residing within the Vampyre, Joachim had compassion enough to curl his arms around the frightened thing and offer a modicum sense of support.
“What is the point..?” Trevor murmured. “Why am I here..?” His breathing was picking up. Close to, if not outright hyperventilating. “I want to go. I don't want to be here.” There was no doubt about it, the Hunter was hyperventilating now.
“Trevor... Please come here.” Alucard beseech him. “Remember what you said? We are together... We can make it all right... Anything at all. So long as we are together.” The hyperventilating did nothing to stop the return of a madman's grim laughter. Trevor sounded truly unhinged, and it just tore the Dhampyre inside out. Why wouldn't he let Alucard hold him? Why wouldn't he let Alucard comfort him? Let him love him?
“We are together!” Trevor exclaimed with a crazed look in his eyes. “There is no one else for me to be with except you, Adrian. Everyone is dead!” He stepped free of Joachim's embrace to grab the Dhampyre by his shirt, giving a painful shake as he accused the most vile of things. “This is even better than having me at you mercy, lost in a strange land with a strange language, and no way to return under my own power. Who would I even go home to!?” The Hunter spat. “This whole situation felt so contrived from the very beginning. How perfect for you. How perfectly packaged I am for you, free of my family and any and all obligations!”
The Dhampyre twisted the Hunter's wrists and snarled, temper lost. “Do you think I have anything to do with this?” He shook the scarred wrists. “That I would have anything to do with torturing you? What kind of monster do you think I am, Trevor Belmont!? You are the one who dragged me into a church and made me believe I was a good man out of it. And you think I would do this? To what end? To break your heart and make you mine? Do you really believe I am over here revelling in the fact I just had to tell you all this... Because that means I am the last man standing? That I believe you are some prize I just won?”
“That's not...”
“It sure as hell sounds like that's exactly what you are accusing me of.” The Dhampyre cut the Hunter off. “I love you, you fucking idiot.” He hissed lowly. “I don't know how or why you are here six hundred years later, but I am fucking thrilled to see you, and I will not deny that. I want to help you solve this. And I am sorry I am not good enough for you, as made evident time and time again since you've shown back up. But I am willing to try, goddammit. Why aren't you willing?”
The Hunter backed away once more, but Alucard was not having it. He was angry. Rightfully angry. How dare Trevor even insinuate that he... that he would have anything to do with the brunette's suffering? He grabbed Trevor's arm and tried to pull him back in place, to make the Hunter look him in the eyes and even attempt to accuse him of such cruelty once more, but the boy was always so frustratingly strong. He escaped the grasp and fled back to Joachim, even stepping behind the Vampyre when the Dhampyre made to chase after him.
“Petite Lapin, are you thinking I will protect you from him?” Joachim wondered out loud, considering the notion for a moment before he grinned mischievously. “Lucky, you are correct, little Rabbit.” Spectral Swords swirled into display cutting off the Hunter and Vampyre from the rest of the room.
“I want to leave.” Trevor told Joachim. “You wanted to take me earlier, so take me now. I want to go.”
In French, the Vampyre all but cooed a reply, and Trevor took off, the squeaking of the faulty track on the glass door preceding the fading footsteps, across the grass and over the fence. Alucard could hear him head towards the park across the stream before he returned his focus to his old Moroi friend. The Moroi companion he now needed a major favour out of.
“Joachim... He is being hunted by this Witch we are after. It is not safe for him to be by himself.” Alucard stressed, still struggling to gain a hold on his temper. The Vampyre could smell it on him and was amused, which did nothing for his anger. Not quite stomping, he tore into his locked drawer, pulling two collections of drawings out and found a stray book-bag to stash them in. The newly minted whip and accoutrements were swept in next. “If you never do anything else for me, do this one last thing?”
“What's that, Kitten?”
Stopping briefly only to pick up Trevor's discarded sweater and roll that also into the bag, he pushed the whole kit into Joachim's arms. “Keep him safe.”
“Please.” The Vampyre purred, ghostly tendrils filching the last few bottles of wine in reserve as he slowly levitated along the Hunter's escape route. “You know how children are. They come home when they are hungry, so it is good you did not pack him a lunch to go with his toys. I will do as you ask until the Little One decides it is time to return. Your sweet bunny rabbit will be coddled and swaddled just like any other in my care. You have my word.”
Alucard's gaze followed as the Vampyre vanish over the wooden fence and then he stood there watching the empty garden for... a long while. Long enough Julius was tugging on his sleeve and closing the door on his behalf.
“Do you want us to go, or do you want us to help you look for him?” Julius asked in a subdued voice.
With another spike of anger flashing in his vision, Alucard shook his head to both options. “He asked me to trust him with the truth earlier. You told me he wasn't afraid of it, and he promised me that he would come back to loving me, no matter what it was.” He reminded the older hunter. “Besides, Joachim will take care of him. He keeps better promises than either Trevor or I. No, Julius, since I have no distractions in house, I would like to do some work.” He looked at both Yoko and Julius and asked sternly, noting how they flinched and steadfastly ignoring it. “Are we all prepared to work?”
“Whatever you need, bro.” Yoko readily agreed, and popped open her grimoire to do just that.
Notes:
Send help. The chapter lengths are out of control.
Chapter 30: Return to the Sea of Trees
Chapter Text
September 2037 ~ Internet Cafe, Nakano Station, Tokyo
GG_DOMINUS: I was thirteen years old when I learned you couldn't actually make love potions or spells. You could only hex someone and make them your illegal inhumane slave.
S@Bre: Lol GG. Sometimes I think I wouldn't mind a love slave. But I am not allowed 2 keep pets in my flat.
GG_DOMINUS: LOL, most cats would be cleaner than a man anyway! But what I was trying to say is that I guess we never stop learning. Actually someone PM'd me to ask for help with a fire salts recipe last week. All this week I have been getting PM's from people asking me about stuff.
S@Bre: Noooo wayyyyy. Me 2. Somebody asked me how 2 purify Spriggan Dust. First of all, like gross. Those things are nasty. And second of all, u don't purify Spriggan Dust???? What are these people on?
GG_DOMINUS: That IS odd. I have heard people do it, but you lose the innate wind element within when you do, so yeah. Why would you?
S@Bre: I was so confused I actually went 2 get my Nan's grimoire just 2 make sure I was not crazy. The girl was super chill tho. We've been chatting and she says she's inviting me 2 this other site. Supposed 2 be free of all the fake witches.
GG_DOMINUS: That sounds super interesting but also like mega sus? You absolutely have to let me know if it's for reals and not just some trolls baiting. I have a hard time with the too good to be true stuff.
S@Bre: 4 Sure. She is supposed 2 be at the protest I am going 2 this afternoon. We are going 2 meet up.
GG_DOMINUS: Be careful, Sabre. Don't go anywhere with a stranger just because they seem nice and know how to light their smokes with their fingertip.
S@Bre: Obvs. That is kid stuff stranger danger. Smoking is also nasty, so I wouldn't stick around, lol. There are going 2 be dozens of us at the rally, anyway. I'll just have 2 scream if they are a total creeper.
GG_DOMINUS: Sabre, I gotta ask. Do you think going to these rallies and protests will change anything? I mean the Church is huge and global.
S@Bre: Of course! They've been losing Gov support since the Demon Wars was won in 99. Who needs a huge organization 2 protect us against Dracula when there is no Dracula anymore? People just wanna enjoy life. Now is our time 2 push back on all the oversight that organization is guilty of. Nobody cares what they have 2 say anymore, but they do care about blatant discrimination. It's bullshit that I have 2 register for public record next month. I'm not a sex offender, I'm a fucking witch.
GG_DOMINUS: Well yeah. I agree completely. I just don't know what is the best way to have the issues addressed without being called rioters and vandals. Picketing in the streets doesn't seem like the right way to go to be taken seriously. There's got to be lobbyist services? Do we have a class-action lawyer or something? Like anything?
S@Bre: Picketing in the street is better than whining online. At least we are being seen in the streets. GG, u r super cool and u know all the best hack tricks for my practice, but u sound like one of those Traitors sometimes. We can't meet them half way. Half way is me going on like basically an Arcane Offender's list for the rest of my life @ 19 just because I can conjure!? That is crazy, GG! These Church people are crazy.
GG_DOMINUS: I am not arguing that. I just think there has got to be a way to attack this without being seen as aggressive and dangerous. We're not dangerous because of what we can do, but what we choose to do. No different than anyone else. But you know some people will use any excuse to vilify people with legitimate grievances just because of the method they chose to stand up for themselves. It super sucks to have to be held to higher standards, but that's where we are.
S@Bre: GG, wherever u live must be Shangri-La. Nobody will listen 2 a witch in court back on planet Earth. I'll take lots of pics of the protest. BRB
GG_DOMINUS: Be a force for good, Sabre. The Three-fold Law ain't just something we made up because we were bored and wanted to make life more of a challenge.
Yoko closed out her chat box and sat quietly for a moment, wishing the eighteen year old from who knows where in the world would indeed stay safe during this Pagan Rights protest. There were still cities people could be arrested for practising the wrong religion in. Or worse. It was a wish that came with a double edge of guilt, for she was also catfishing this impressionable young woman. Sabre was exactly the kind of personality a cult leader would gravitate towards. The girl was intelligent, but naive. Passionate but misguided. Open to new ideas, but easily distracted by the immediate gains and rewards. It was a gross, dirty feeling to be manipulating a girl looking for a friend just because Yoko could sense she was easy pickings, and that a Witch looking to bolster her numbers would believe so as well. Sabre was right to a certain extent. She was a traitor to her sisters. At least the ones who were refusing to tow the Church line.
On the other hand, she could find common ground with Señor Creepy's associate sisterhood as well. Losing it's lustre post-Demon Wars or not, the Church working up enough fervour about a plague of fireball casting, mass murdering menaces in the woods would let lose a hoard of old laws just 'sitting on the books' back into common use. There feasibly could indeed be another Inquisition. A more civil and bureaucratic kind, but still an Inquisition. One that would end with tighter reigns on all registered Arcane users. Just so much ugliness out of fear... Legitimate fear, yes. The woman and her coven were deadly. Proven so. But they were only maybe a few dozen. Maybe a hundred? Maybe a few hundred at most? Out of millions who had such talents. It didn't matter, for they would all be looking like mighty fine nails when that hammer came a swinging.
With no idea how to even begin, Yoko was starting to feel like she needed to be the adult making rational decisions for people like Sabre. There had to be legitimate and legal ways to fight this kind of biased policing, taking place over countless countries and states, provinces, regions... you name it. She wondered if Alucard would have any advice, seeing as how he had divulged recently that he was a peacemaker of sorts between governments and demons outside of the grand stage. The drive to act was building, but how could she even ask right now? It had been over a week and a half since the morose Moroi's boytoy ran off with the Creep and there had been no word since. All Alucard did was tap away on his laptop and phone, catching up on that 'government work' of his and paying shady as fuck who the hell knew for background checks on some of the dead Hunters that had been identified as the victims in the cave.
Julius and Hammer were out digitally disconnected, hiking and camping in the stupid humid murder suicide forest and surrounding area, to boot. There was literally no one in Japan right now she could call to hang out, to help change or at least distract from her bad mood. She was lonely and guilty. Which was probably, now that she thought about it, how Alucard usually felt. Centuries of doing what he did, standing side by side humans against the night hoards, the poor half-human half-demon must feel like a traitor to his fellow demons? Always seeming to favour one side of his heritage over the other must get his fellow demons talking, right? Another question to ponder was if her constant obsession with how an eight hundred year old man felt even healthy? Or was he her distraction after all? Her little pet project? She was kinda sorta already feeling less shitty focusing on a demi-dead dude's issues than her own icky feelings.
Or - stroke of genius – Maybe all these mixed emotions and mental confusion was clear a sign they just all needed to get out of this country once and for all. Not that it wasn't nice. It just wasn't home. Everyone would probably vastly improve the states of their mind and bodies if they got to go home for a change. Julius would be less red-eyed, she would get to sleep in her own bed, Hammer would get to hang with his old crew from the army, and Alucard... Would go back and live with Joachim Armster, if the Vampyre was to be believed. And this Leila. Who was not a witch, but she was an angel. It's not like Al denied the claim when it was made by the Vampyre, so she guessed it must be truth. And Trevor... The Terror of Tokyo had kind of lost the fire that gave him the nickname once he got out of the hospital. He had been so sweet and accommodating towards her. When she spoke he listened with rapt attention. She was like, just to coolest for Jules Junior, and he was almost a little sidekick, if only she could just pull him over a little more to her side. What would the long lost, time-displaced Trevor Belmont do? No wife. No kids. No boyfriend if he kept ripping his oh-so-precious one of a kind Dhampyre a new arsehole every time he got upset. There was no home for Trevor Belmont to go back to.
The Church, she hazard a guess, if nowhere else. They'd definitely take him, and probably interrogate him until the cows came home trying to verify his story. But he would be warm, fed and housed. They'd keep an eye on him but he wouldn't be a prisoner. Or would Julius offer him a couch to sleep on, she wondered after a little while. The old hunter lived alone, and the displaced man from the 15th century was his mega-great granddad. Julius was a direct Belmont descendant from Leon, with the Church and genealogy records to back it up. He was alive precisely because Trevor Belmont had had kids before he vanished at such a young age.
Speaking of Trevor Belmont's kids...
Waitaminute... Yoko's brain put the brakes on. She knew from her own Coven and genealogy records that she was a direct descendant of 15th century Sypha Belnades. While the Church did not keep records on her mega ancient Grandma's exploits, Sypha's first grandchildren had become some of the Church's first sorceresses on tap. Spoken word told of the mother of these first Church Witches, Luna. Luna Belnades had a mother written about in her archived journals, Sypha, known by name only, and stories that she was a phenomenally powerful Arcane user that had helped the Belmont's of old. Which meant... Luna Belnades also had a sister named Soleil. A twin sister. And Trevor Belmont has two daughters he'll never meet... named Luna and Soleil? Holy fuck. The Mage choked on her matcha milk tea, noisily enough to disturb the people around her in the internet cafe. Holy fuck!
“I'm a motherfucking direct descendant of Leon Belmont!” She hissed to herself, careful to keep her voice volume contained. Phone already in her hands, she was typing out her discovery to Julius, full of cousin power graphics and memes. Which he would not get until he got back, because he would not turn his phone on in the death forest. But still. “I am a goddamn Belmont.” She reaffirmed to no one but herself, smugly satisfied with the discovery. Her sisterhood was going to have a field day with that one, and she couldn't wait to share the news. Then of course, because nothing could be pure awesome these days, she had a follow-up thought. “...And that means that's also my poor mega-great grandad out with the Creep who knows where getting up to who knows what... Oh boy.”
Oh boy, indeed.
Well... Señor Creepy was oddly and singularly-targeted nice towards Trevor, horrible music lessons aside. Alucard did seem reluctant but was still okay to let Joachim babysit his boyfriend too. Maybe it's not as concerning as I think it is.
Yoko hummed and hawed for a while, torn between what to do and where to go, or to just hang tight in the cafe and wait for Sabre or another random new account to private message her and ask for weird alchemical factoids. She wished Hammer had not been purloined by Julius, for she was sorely missing his sense of humour right now. Couldn't the old man take their boss instead? For a minute she tried to imagine Iron Liza roughing it in the woods and it just wouldn't compute. Haughty, wealthy Liza dripping in her furs, gold and diamonds. Sleeping on a pile of leaves bunched up with a blanket thrown on top? How the fuck did Jules and the Iron Maiden ever hook up? It was a question she both had a burning desire to know, while also the fiercest revulsion to becoming privy to the answer. A conundrum. A gross ass conundrum.
The Iron Maiden power-topping her new-found cousin was such a disgustingly consuming thought she nearly missed the little jingle of a new private message on her dashboard. Clicking on it automatically, the initial quick read-through came off like someone trying to sell her some essential oils. There was something in the phrasing, the structure of the sales pitch, that gave her cause for pause, and forced her to read the blurb more slowly. The specificity on the correct tares of vials. The promises of vanquishing the shrouds of oppressive auras. Equilibrium to be achieved between physical and the metaphysical. It was so easy to write off as a soothsayer harking overpriced water and mineral oil, but it had to be something more... right? The sender's avatar blinked with a small green crescent moon, still online. Waiting.
Yoko... took a shot in the dark.
GG_DOMINUS: You think you can bottle up and sell me a Tear in the Veil between worlds as to cure what ails me?
ERISHKIGAL: What would you pay if I could?
Yoko's fingers froze over her keyboard. With a deep shuddering breath, her hands steadied and typed her reply, acutely mindful of her surroundings suddenly, and how open she was to being observed. She was just another expat trying to work in a cafe drinking sugary drinks. Nothing else. She tried very hard to look the part.
GG_DOMINUS: The price for opening the Veil is not one I have sufficient blood supply to offer. No one person has within themselves what it takes to pay for such a feat.
ERISHKIGAL: If you had no need to worry about the cost, would you accept the profits?
GG_DOMINUS: We must always be mindful with our intent. To not consider the price of such a feat would be certain failure. Failure that could lead to disaster or worse. At minimum, failure would waste so many lives fruitlessly. I do not believe you can deliver on this sales pitch.
ERISHKIGAL: You are correct, alone I cannot. Alone, I should not have to be, either. Neither should you, or any other Arcanist. We are sisters, all of us. We belong together. Safely together, in a place of our own.
GG_DOMINUS: Where in spilling blood does safety exist for our kind? How does a trail soaked into the earth not lead the Church to our doorstep?
ERISHKIGAL: There is always a cost, Sister. A price that must be paid. I have chosen to pay that price for us all. We will have our place if I am successful. We have never met, but I want you with me, Sister. I welcome you with open arms. I want you to see a world within the Veil I will create, where you are free. Truly free.
GG_DOMINUS: Why not fight for our freedom in this world? What purpose do you have reaching into a realm that does not obey the natural laws of our own? It is arrogant to believe by simply reaching the Veil you will be given the right or ability to reign.
ERISHKIGAL: We lost the war for this world, Sister. We will never break free of our bonds in this life. I know a way to change that. To ensure success. I wish you would join me when it is time.
GG_DOMINUS: Join you where?
ERISHKIGAL: Please think long and hard about your life, and what it has meant suffering under constant repression. Mayhaps you do not even realize how short your leash and tight your chains have become. When a slave knows no different, they do not think themselves a slave, my sister.
GG_DOMINUS: And if I no longer wished to suffer slavery, where would I find salvation?
ERISHKIGAL: I will keep you in mind, Sister. No plan is perfect and mine has suffered some set-backs. I will never give up, Sister, rest assured. I will be in touch. Keep yourself safe, and wait for me. You belong in the world I will create.
The green crescent moon turned white. The user was now offline.
Yoko clicked on the account to research and found the post history and everything else barren. The user had never made any forum posts, voted in any polls, lit any candles for any of the various pagan holidays celebrated on the site, or seemingly interacted with anything. But the account... was years old. Twelve years to be exact. The user must only ever use the account to reach out privately to select people... Select people who have proven they know what they are talking about when it came to usage of true Arcane powers.
Oh my god...
Yoko screenshot everything and closed down her laptop in a panicked burst of energy that she had nowhere else to expend. There was literally no one she could contact right now. No one to tell what had just happened.
Oh my god...
Breath quickening, the Mage balled her hands into fists and slammed them down on the desk she sat at, uncaring that she drew startled looks from the patrons around her.
That was... That had to be the High Priestess.
Who else could it have been?
*****
September 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Identification requests sent off, a few virtual meetings, a half dozen speeches given virtually at various Human-Demon Relations summits, and a mountain of reports filed later, there was simply nothing left to do within the four walls of the temporary residence. Four walls that had just begun after years dwelling within to breath with a life of it's own, warmth and companionship always found waiting in the small smile Trevor Belmont gave him each time he walked through his front door. How the loss of such a small thing as that welcoming smile could have such a rippling effect was surprising. Decades of self-appointed penance in solitude had not prepared him for the isolating loneliness that was the void in Trevor's wake. To know that the man was within his reach, if only he went out to find him, but to not be able to do just that one thing he desired most of all? Did Alucard not deserve the small slice of home that had been found within his tragic lover's arms? Did his unfortunate lover also not deserve to be held through this latest storm?
If he had just let me...The Dhampyre's bitterness over the matter was still as strong a taste as the first awful insinuation he'd been forced to swallow. That he could have ever had anything to do with any of this on purpose. The very notion filled him with fury he could not even direct at the Hunter. It wasn't Trevor's fault. Neither of them were at fault, they were just the ones paying the price.
Grief stricken Trevor handing over handfuls of his sanity to cover the unexpected costs, if the off-kilter laughter and crazed look in his eyes were anything to go by.
As for Alucard? A trial of trust and patience to weather, without that smile to make coming back home to these four walls make sense. Did his own pain and anguish and heartache not count? Had he not demonstrated enough virtues standing by waiting for Trevor to overcome enough of this shock and horror to return? Was his growing fear and concern not warranted at this point? Was Alucard such a monster for needing to know the one he loved most of all was safe?
Hands finalized typing out familiar stock pleasantries concluding his reports and responses to fellow speakers and chairmen and chairwomen of the boards. Muscle memory, most of it, from centuries of playing the benign demi-demon balancing life, death, and common interests between the two races. In the time spent waiting for the final replies, his clawed hands found his sword, his coat and his cloak. Consideration for the bereaved Hunter had him slipping a few provisions into pockets only the man would need. There would be no more waiting for Trevor Belmont to come out of this fog in his own due time. Not with the danger about from unseen eyes and unfathomable reaches this Coven may or may not have. The Dhampyre meant to find him.
Time and time again sought to hammer home the importance of Joachim's lessons given so long ago. One had to keep in mind it was never the smell of the person or creature you were looking for, but the mingling smells from whence they came. To understand where they have journeyed, what they have touched, what they are wearing, and what they have stepped in. Always keeping in mind the scent of them could be a lost glove, a random brush up against tree, a moments rest against a wall. These were distractions. Such trails would never lead you anywhere when what you hunted touched so many people, places and things. The smell of them and where they came from, who they were with, animal or another, that was what a hunter must always follow. The state of mind and intentions of ones prey would become clear with these rules adhered to. To hunt a hunter, these words of guidance were even more crucial. Catching a hunter often meant seeking out what they themselves were hunting. The lessons were all ingrained by this point. This time he would not rest until he found his mark. This time, the hunt for Trevor Belmont would not fail, as he meant to capture his prey.
With a quick text to his fellow demon hunters advising he would be away, Alucard took to the skies on near silent black wings. He would not seek Trevor's scent alone, for he had an ace up his sleeve. Joachim had given his word he would oversee the Hunter's care, and the Vampyre's word had never proven wrong. It really did not matter where Trevor walked, what he touched, or what he did. The points where Joachim and Trevor's scents converged would be the truth. Joachim would always circle back to Trevor in order to keep his promise. To keep him safe.
The points of convergence weaved a meandering, wandering trail through the city and local parks. Alucard touched down often to walk the very same pathways and streets Trevor had passed through, a small part of him hoping that by retracing the man's exact steps, he would come to better understand the state of the Hunter's head-space. Was Trevor running blind, just to get as far away from the truth laid out in his office as humanly possible, or was there a method to his choices? Did his scent linger anywhere, where perhaps he had paused to process the grave news given? Did he touch anything or examine any plants that would have caught the curious Hunter's eye under normal circumstances? Any sign he was still curious about the strange new world around him would be a positive, and a relief. Was anywhere stopped at for food or a drink? Did Joachim stop anywhere, or simply follow along?
Ghosting the mostly empty late night streets, he used only a minimal easy glamour, and a slight push of his Force of Will on the few he did cross. A simple suggestion that he was imagined, that was all. For a long while it seemed Trevor had followed these main roads towards the bright city centre. Perhaps drawn by those twinkling lights and busy eye-catching advertisements on the big screens he was so fascinated by in happier times. Compliments to the copywriters and graphic designers, the loud fast-moving images of products and services for sale had an amusingly powerful hold on the 15th century wanderer. A corvid with a shiny prized coin.
Personally, Alucard had always found himself feeling lost within a crowd, often dissociating as the din of strangers who would never know or ever care for him drowned out the troubling thoughts that oft plagued an old Dhampyre's mind. Trevor had passed by here in the early eve, no doubt. Perhaps, it was certainly possible, that the sense of losing oneself in the crowd was shared between the Hunter and he. They did have many similarities between them, after all. Shy quiet boys eschewing the world at large, who'd grown into contemplative sensitive men with pains forever outnumbering their pleasures. It was very probable that the brunette had chased down the noise of the city epicentre to drown out the noise in his soul.
By the point he reached Musashino Central Park, Joachim had once more rejoined Trevor on his journey, their scents mingling in such a way that even weeks later Alucard knew the Vampyre had been physically in contact with his Hunter. Where Joachim diverged, the fainter scent of the oils in Trevor's hair clung to his trail. Had he been running his hands through Trevor's hair? Or had he just let the Hunter lean against him in a moment of weakness? It was difficult to say, but the path of Truth was far more direct now, over private property and blatantly disregarding fences or other obstacles. Trevor was following Joachim now, as only Joachim would be so bold where so many could see, so confident he was in his glamours and Force of Will. Direct journey lead the Dhampyre North-West towards Higashimurayama Central Park.
Here the weaving began anew, Joachim's strong presence vanishing on the wind, but the earthy hints of his ground-skimming coat clinging to Trevor's scent. Trevor's chosen path was distracted. There were periods of long pauses, where he'd either stood or sat in place on the ground. Uncertain steps did find their way to the Tama and Sayama lakes, where again the Hunter seemed to have stopped for a rest. At a decent human pace, the terrain crossed thus far had been maybe seven hours of continuous walking, which would have been longer with all the stops. Trevor had watched the Tama lake for a long while, skirting the edge of it until Joachim converged upon him again. Together, the Hunter no doubt following the Vampyre's whims headed East, past Mizuho, and even over the walls into the Hamura Zoo. Joachim's idea, most assuredly. The Vampyre did love to mock the animals in cages, as well as discount any notions of preservation or rehabilitation taking place in such institutions. Trevor moved swiftly through the exhibits, however. His sweet natured lover likely empathetic to the creatures far from their natural homes, having been a caged animal himself a scant few months prior.
Joachim caught up to the brunette just outside the zoo walls, where together they picked a careful direct route towards the famous Buddhist temples of the Nishitama District. The Hunter and Vampyre wandered a great deal around the area before their path trended steeply South-bound. The scent of them strongly linked together. Alucard imagined Joachim leading the Hunter by hand, tugging him along as perhaps fatigue or grief weighed Trevor down, towards the next thing that caught the Vampyre's fancy. Following Joachim's lead, Alucard found himself standing next in the Hachiōji Castle ruins, and pulled by the Vampyre's invisible hands towards the Plum Groves and then the Takao train station. Following the duo's trail became trickier once he stood in the station. Shifting into a misty form allowed him to inspect the places he could not easily access even with a glamour and his Force of Will utilized to a greater degree.
Which way would Joachim's influence on Trevor take them? It was impossible to say, so he filtered in and out of ventilation systems until he found the exact train Trevor Belmont had stepped into. It was only a small matter of getting off at every stop to search for the trail, which he did. Each unsuccessful stop was no large bother. It was a simple matter to shift back into a bat and follow the rails to the next. Little bat wings could take him long and far very swiftly. It seemed Saruhashi station was the winning pick. Here, Vampyre and Hunter went due North, stopping for a little while in Saruhashi Park, before heading North-West.
Following suit, the Dhampyre found himself staring at the terraced by reservation-only French cuisine style restaurant. He believed the name was Green Tree, or something to that effect, acknowledging again that he still did not speak French. The fancy intimate restaurant overlooking the mountains and the farms simply had to be Joachim's idea. Alucard figured the duo had been travelling for over twenty-six hours by that point, quite possibly more depending on how long the pair had lingered in the spots he identified they'd rested at. It was a bit of a relief to see that Joachim had possessed the forethought to feed the Hunter. It was his deepest wish that the Hunter had managed to have an appetite for what was offered. His misty form phased into, he glided over the terrace and found the exact chair that had the faded remnants of Trevor. It was satisfying to know that even if the poor thing had not had the stomach for the fine foods being served around him, that he had at least sat down for a while in such a beautiful area. Perhaps the air and scenery had eased some of his suffering. One could only hope.
Leading again, the Vampyre seemed to be doing a lot of the trail-breaking during this second half of their journey, Joachim took them hard West towards a scenic tourist spot. Atop a steep and demanding hiking trail lay the ruins of yet another castle, this one Alucard did not know the name of. It did overlook the breath-taking view of Mount Fuji rising out of the Aokigahara Forest, two sights certain to have drawn the Hunter's eyes. The hike continued South, back down the treacherous steep trail towards Maruyama Park. Joachim must have discovered that the greenery and forests were Trevor's preference, and sought to pass by as many of the scenic areas as he could. That being said, there was nowhere else for the pair to go from here but into the city of Ōtsuki.
Now in the heart of this metropolitan area, the scents he traced grew in intensity. The strongest thorough-line he found was between an inn and a large supermarket. Joachim was the stronger of the two he tracked, both on the ground and amongst the rooftops. They had to have stayed more than a day, quite possibly three or four in Ōtsuki for Joachim to be so strongly imprinted on this place. Given the distance, the pace, and all while suffering the emotional turmoil and strain Trevor no doubt battled, the toll on his mind and body would have been too great to sustain without real rest. If the Vampyre caretaker had been able to recognize when Trevor needed to eat, then surely he would have seen Trevor needed to sleep. If not beforehand, than certainly after the Hunter was near collapse... if he had not outright dropped. Following Joachim's at face value logic-defying yet still somehow eerily precise crisscrossing traverse of Ōtsuki, he finally picked up the duo's convergent points again near the south of the city, which veered South by South-West into the burgeoning wilderness.
Here was where Alucard's teachings from long ago would be truly put to the test, for Trevor Belmont's natural scent smelled not unlike the earth and the sky. Faint hints of the elements with sweet notes hidden in-between. Standing as he was at the edge of the yawning forests, streams, and mountains, Alucard was tasked with finding the faintly sweet earth and sky hidden amongst the bark, currents, leaves and brush. The challenge did nothing to deter or shake his resolve.
Considering for a long moment, the Dhampyre placed himself in the shoes of a wounded, weeping, fallen warrior. Trevor would find solace in the dense foliage. His feet would carry him deeper into the woods no matter his lack of purpose or reason to be there. The mind would will the body to find comfort, any comfort, in the state he had been in two weeks prior. The mind would always seek to shield itself. Here he could only trust his instinct. Joachim was nowhere to be found. Long gone above the trees, perhaps watching from a distance. Perhaps Trevor had asked to be left alone for a while, and in some small miracle granted, Joachim had obliged. Logic and instinct, it was all the Dhampyre had. Would Trevor have followed the small stream, even subconsciously?
Will and determination still high, the Dhampyre still found a niggling sense of frustration brewing in his bowels. The uneasy fear that like five hundred and fifty-eight years ago, he may once again fail to track this trail successfully to his prey, fuelling the fire. How was it that he could love someone so wholly and lose them in the breeze between the trees? Was Trevor Belmont to blame, being such a force of nature he could not be distinguished from it? Or was Alucard, a halfbreed, just not demon enough to find what he wanted to most? Form shifting into that of a wolf, he sniffed at the base of trees here and there, growing more and more frustrated with the loss of his trail. It was all wrong. How could have come so far again and not been enough? This time he even knew the man lived! There was something to find this time, definitively!
Stop. Some rational part of his mind begged. Think, you halfbreed idiot.
Why would Trevor come to the forest? Because he was at peace in such areas, of course. But what did Trevor do in the forests? What would such a man be unable to resist doing by way of his own upbringing and instincts?
He is a hunter. He hunts... He tracks. That was correct. Now Alucard was also back on the proper course. I do not need to find Trevor. I need to find what Trevor would start to track.
Letting go of the burning irritation in his gut, he instead ran freely, enjoying the wind through his fur, darting in and out of brush and over fallen moss covered logs. Play was allowed, as games would distract him from looking too hard for any one thing, he'd miss something else entirely. While it took hours upon hours, the method experimented with actually worked, much to his own surprise. Here he could both see the disturbed moss and crunched fallen leaves and pick up the scent of some creature. An unknown yokai of some kind, perhaps. This, Trevor would have found. It was not a careful creature, whatever it was. After some further tracking it seemed it was not a singular creature either. There were many of them. Growing numbers evident the further along he followed their scattered pathways. The landscape itself was dipping into a sort of heavy forested basin, visibility in the thick foliage hampered by wild overgrowth.
It was over the ridge he caught the scent. Faint earth and sky, with a sweet undertone. Trevor Belmont had wriggled through this same exact patch of bush his wolf form now slipped beneath. With a rush of exuberance he tore out of the vine and coiled roots at a galloping speed, stopping only briefly here and there to examine the corpses of a few monstrous vaguely man-shaped possible yokai. Ogreish, but he could not really classify them as such with their too numerous physical variations. Arms thick and long, knuckles that could and probably did drag as they walked. Their bodies lay lashed and stabbed, burned with the holy purity of silver and enchantments. Alucard recognized his own work, and the only person in all of Japan he was aware of carrying his handiwork at current, was Trevor.
In the distance he could hear the clash of a skirmish, so no longer needing to rely on smell, he followed the cries of monstrous creatures, running down another basin, back over the second crest, and finally into the deepest basin encountered yet. At the heart was a stony outcropping, a cave-like structure of depths that could not be estimated from his angle of approach. Rounding along the back of the cave, Alucard at last found what he was looking for, and the very sight of it stopped him dead in his tracks.
Five hundred and fifty-eight years. It had been five hundred and fifty-eight years since he'd beheld the sight of Trevor Belmont in battle. What a sight it was, too. What a glorious sight.
Vastly outnumbered or not, the Hunter was quick footed and far too nimble for the opponents he was faced with. Their strength was soon proven to not be taken lightly, rock and earth smashed and scattered with every mighty swing they missed targeting the lithe Hunter stepping flawlessly between them. The whip Alucard had designed and crafted with so much love and attention to detail cracked out again and again, searing flesh and keeping enough of the hulking creatures at bay to allow the brunette to maintain his evasive maneuvers. Trevor played with them, it seemed, running up one beefy forearm momentarily caught in-between some smashed rocks, drawing another to shatter the arm of the one he'd climbed, only to flip onto the shoulders of the one doing the shattering. From here he used a trick Alucard had seen before, lassoing the beasts neck only to bring in down to the ground with him as he dismounted, smashing it's visage into a bloody pulp. Silver throwing knives blinded two fast approaching hulks, giving the Hunter just enough time to slide under another's legs, avoiding the near brutal, possibly fatal even, strike.
The only problem was, the creatures were so large, and they seemed to be coming out of the cave. More of them filing in to take the place of the ones Trevor took down. A nest of some kind, no doubt. Briefly wondering where Joachim had gotten off to – After all, hadn't he given his word he would keep Trevor safe? - Alucard resumed his fighting form, unsheathed his sword and leaped into the fray. The full weight of a Dhampyre pouncing brought the closest creature to Trevor down. The Hunter's eyes widened a bit at the sight of him crushing an ogre with only his boots and a sneer, but Trevor did not allow the interruption to distract his focus from the converging beasts.
Like an old song and dance, Hellfire and holy weapons rained down, rending flesh and vanquishing demons with every slash, thrust, and conjuration. It was so easy to fall back into step with his first brother-in-arms. As if the vast time that had passed since they last stood facing down his father had been only the blink of an eye. Trevor rolled off his back and took the Dhampyre's hand to swing himself around side, whip clearing the way and maintaining that protective bubble between monsters and the pair for Alucard to make assured finishing strikes and precisely targeted streams of fire.
Joy. Just pure joy filled the Dhampyre. To think he would ever have gotten the chance to dance with Trevor Belmont in the moonlight again. To then actually be in the heat of the moment, doing it.
The Hunter had an eye on the entrance of the cave, and Alucard picking up on his intentions worked with the brunette to cut their path forward, straight into the maw. The hoard seemed dwindling, but from in the depths Alucard's yellow eyes, perfectly adapted to see in the murk, could see what was the... Is that possibly these creature's broodmother? Goliath sized, corpulent, and with a pelt that seemed oaken yet still malleable, the gape-mouthed, rolling-eyed visage sputtered and raged at their intrusion. The cave barely had room to stage a proper attack, the girth of the broodmother encompassing so much of the space. The ogreish beasts were filling in behind them, trapping them between the blob and her children. It was just starting to feel dire, when signs of reinforcements could be heard thinning the herd from just beyond the cave walls.
The sounds of anti-demon artillery were instantly recognizable by the Dhampyre. He'd heard the sounds of such weapons night and day for what seemed endless years during the Demon Wars. As the flashes, shrapnel and dust cleared, Hammer and Julius appeared, drawing the aggression and attention of several of the giants. Alucard didn't have any idea how or why, but he was glad to see his friends in fine fighting form. Julius, rather than pulling out the Vampyre Killer for obvious reasons, relied on an array of holy water bombs, knives, and his own raw strength. The tide was turned back in their favour just like that, and Alucard took advantage of it, skewering a few more creatures still dazed by the blinding artillery shells. Hammer and Julius nearly slaughtering their way inside, he turned back to the broodmother and attacked.
Her shrill screeches were deafening, but not deadly. This was no banshee. Certainly not... You could cut a banshee down. The corpulent monster's hide resisted slashes, stabs, and even his Hellfire at point blank range. One of her many arms slapped him away in a moment's distraction. In his defence, he would later claim if asked, he was far too occupied with disbelief a blob of flesh was only singed by such a spell. Alucard had gotten extremely good at combusting other demons over the years, after all. Regaining his footing he could see Julius and Hammer each grappling with their own perplexed moments, having mopped up the rest of the knuckle-draggers and now trying to puzzle out how to take on such a... resistant spongy blob. The screeches were endless. Her arms swatting anything that got close.
“Seriously, what is that, Jules?” Hammer shouted over the shrieking. “And how do we make it stop doing that?
To Alucard's surprise, Julius actually threw up his hands. “I actually... Have no idea. But I would absolutely love if it stopped making that noise.”
“Well...” Alucard began. “You have lost a lot of your memories. But we do know someone else who knows the Belmont Bestiary cover to cover.”
In the deafening cacophony of the monsters wailing shrieks, the two men and Dhampyre turned towards the smaller hunter, only to start trading very confused and baffling looks amongst themselves. They watched as Trevor, already divested of his sweater, shoes, gloves, and gear, slipped out of his shirt, pants and even stripped his underclothes. Completely bare-assed naked, and with seemingly no concern about being in such a state, much to Alucard's surprise. Then again, perhaps because there were no women around to get shy over his stockings peeking out from his skirts. Not that that mystery needed to be solved right now. What needed to be understood was why Trevor was bare-assed naked with a knife between his teeth.
Before he'd even the chance to ask, Trevor was gone.
Alucard watched him, completely in disbelief, scale the blob monster, avoiding her too many arms, and with a brief handstand on her bloated quadruple-chin, flipped right into her gaping maw feet first.
“Trevor, what the fuck!?” Alucard called after him, far too late. “Seriously, what the fuck!?”
“Yeah seriously, what the fuck!?” Hammer echoed, a bit more panic in his tone.
“Where are you going?” Julius shouted as the Dhampyre took his own chance on the moving mound of flesh, climbing his way up to her bloated face. “Be careful, dammit.”
“I am going to cut my goddamn boyfriend out of the belly of this gross fat sorry excuse for a demon, that's what. Are you going to stand there or help me?”
“I think I am going to stand here. I think Trevor knows what he's doing.” Julius replied around the screeching. “Also, I don't think my ears could stand being any closer.”
“Try having Vampyre ears!” He snarled back, head ringing from the wailing at such close proximity. Awful, yes, but still nothing compared to a banshee. Dodging the flailing flabby arms was no small feat, but with a lot of anger and a pinch of moxie, he decided stabbing into her gaping slack-jaw was the best mode of attack. He was definitely onto something, as his sword could pierce the flesh inside her mouth. He started to tear her face open, if need be, wide enough to climb inside his goddamn self and drag Trevor out. However just when he was desperate enough to try doing exactly that, the creature started to undulate from under his feet. Her flabby numerous limbs gripping at her chest and belly, as if trying to dig inside her own flesh. “What the fuck now?” He hissed, nearly losing his footing.
With a gasping keening hiss, the corpulent creature's eyes glazed over, a few more shuddering wet gurgles for breath... and it... seemed over. It seemed the creature was dead. The blob flopped a little to the side, as far as the space in the cave would allow it, and simply lay still. Alucard wasted no time climbing back up towards the slack mouth, fully intending to crawl inside and drag Trevor out dead or alive, but there was no need. The creature's corpse jiggled some, and from inside it's maw he could see chestnut locks of hair slathered in a viscous thick clear goo. He reached in, grabbed the Hunter by the closest arm and hauled him out. He was completely plastered with the thick viscous substance, and Dhampyre noted red raw first degree burns on his feet, knees, palms, and shoulders. Digestive juices, if Alucard had to guess. In his other hand he held a large many-chambered organ... The knife was still in it. Probably the former broodmother's heart.
Alucard took a calming moment to wipe the blood from his blade on the dead monster's flesh, and sheathed his sword. Then, with a measured breath, he fixed the Hunter with a stern, chastising near glare. “What were you thinking? Why didn't you just tell us we could only damage it from the inside? Surely there was a better plan than you sliding down it's gullet buck-ass naked? I could have aimed down it's throat easily. I've got magick!” When the Hunter said nothing, he took hold of the slimy free hand and started leading the naked foolhardy show-off down the beast's corpse. “Why would you do this, Trevor? Why would you make me think you were just offering to be a free meal for a blob monster?” Still the boy said nothing, following wordlessly after him, stabbed heart swinging freely in his other grip. Alucard tugged him along veering in the direction of the stream he'd jumped over to get into this whole mess. He could hear Julius and Hammer trailing after them at a distance. “You will not believe how worried sick about you I have been. You're just so... Argh! Trevor Christopher Fucking Belmont about everything!” Without any ceremony he tossed the boy in the stream. “Get that gross stomach acid off you before your burns get any worse.”
Leaving the Hunter to sort himself and the goo out, he turned sharply in Julius and Hammer's direction, but it wasn't the two humans who drew his ire. Sitting atop the yawning maw of the cave was an amused ancient Vampyre, idly watching the scene play out before him. Alucard hissed and shot off like a bullet in bat form to land just before the mildly impressed Vampyre.
“Oh my, look how fast you've gotten, Kitten.” He noted on Alucard's improved take-off speed.
“That was nothing.” He growled. “I have a mind to show you just how much your little kitty cat has improved, Joachim. You said you would keep him safe!”
“Oh Kitten, is that what this little tantrum is about? Was he not safe? I didn't see a problem from up here. I would say he handles himself even better than you do.” Joachim brushed off his 'hurt feelings', untouched by such a petty unwarranted emotion given the situation as seen through ancient demon eyes.
“He was in a pretty tight spot, Joachim. Where were you?” Alucard continued to growl lowly, unable to hide how upset he truly was. It wasn't doing him any favours with the Vampyre, but it could not be helped.
“Kitten.” Joachim warned only once. Alucard was dangerously close to pouncing, and the Vampyre could tell. When the Dhampyre regained enough composure to ease off slightly, only then did the Vampyre answer. “I was right here. When I thought perhaps it was time to give him a bit of a hand, I did not have to. You did.” Waving almost friendly at the two humans who watched their exchange from below, Joachim spoke a little bit louder. “When I thought you needed a bit of a hand Kitten, I also did not have to. Your little pets showed up like very good doggies. Good boys!” Out of nowhere a spectral sword materialized and flew straight by Hammer's shocked face into the brush by his leg. When the ghostly extension of Joachim raised, a small adolescent form of the ogre-like monsters they'd routed slipped free of the blade, dead. “Look, I got one!” The Vampyre mused.
Alucard huffed, resigned to the fact he would get no satisfaction from the current dialogue and simply turned away, leaving the Vampyre on his perch to return to Trevor. He touched down briefly before Hammer and Julius and gratefully accepted the Hunter's gathered clothes before standing stream-side to glare at Trevor Belmont. Who was still gooped from the waist up because rather than choosing to clean digestive acid off his person, the Hunter was carving away at the chambers of the heart in his hand, cutting sinew and veins clear, digging for only Trevor knew what.
“That's it!” Alucard exclaimed, beyond exasperated with the brunette. Slipping the Holy Symbol's chain over his neck for good measure, he dropped the Hunter's garments, his own coat, cloak, and sword, and kicked off his boots and socks. As stripped down as the Dhampyre was willing to get in public, he waded in to crouch near the slimed-up Hunter and took a hold of him by the shoulders. “Hold your goddamn breath, Trevor, because you're about to get a second baptism.” And with that he proceeded to half drown his lover while he rinsed the acid and goo clear, only noticing Hammer and Julius had taken a seat on the rocks nearby to watch the whole debacle. “What!?” He snapped, still annoyed.
Hammer looked the other way quickly but Julius held his gaze and actually laughed. “I would like to retract my earlier statement about you being kind of adorable when you're defending your scary girlfriend.” The elder hunter informed him. “Turns out, you, are the scary girlfriend, Alucard.”
“I...” He started out, teeth bared and ready for a tussle with Julius if that's how the day was going to go, but just like that, all the fire went out. He took a deep breath, fixed Julius bloodshot cobalt eyes with his own yellows and admitted in a tired voice. “I am having a trying few... months.”
“I know buddy. You're going to be all right.”
“Well, so long as one of us thinks so...” He conceded. Glancing back at Trevor, the aggravating younger-looking Belmont was still fiddling with the organ he'd carved out of the blob monster. “Trevor, what are you even doing?” The Hunter didn't even give him a sign of listening, further exasperating the Dhampyre. He pulled the boy via that free hand out of the stream and onto the pile of Alucard's coat and cloak to dry off. “You're going to catch a cold sitting in the water like that.” It seemed, flesh, blood vessels, and sinew stripped away, what was left of the too-many chambered organ was an off-white spheroid that gave a charming little rattle as it moved from one of Trevor's hands to the other, the Hunter trying to keep hold of his prize and sheath his belt knife as the same time. Nowhere in this did he even attempt to get dressed, and Alucard's patience ended at dressing a grown man as if he were a toddler. “You are going to sit naked there the rest of the evening, I take it?” There was no response. Aggravating.
Caving to some paternal drive, Julius did, in fact, have it in him to dress a grown ass man as if he were a toddler, and saw fit to do so. He was fairly proficient at it too, for a man with no children. Trevor barely acknowledged Julius, but did move any which way Julius wanted to aid in dressing him with only the slightest prodding.
“I'd get you a comb, Napoleon, but I stopped needing to carry one.” Hammer joked, gesturing towards the mangled chestnut locks. Trevor did look Hammer's way, Alucard noted with another dose of annoyance and possibly some jealousy, but still said nothing.
When Joachim touched down to finally join the 'rabble', Alucard took a hot minute to make sure his tone was a little more on the respectful side, feeling it or not, and held both arms out, at a loss. “Joachim, what is going on with him? What have you been doing for these past two weeks?”
“Ignore him, Petite Lapin.” Joachim plopped down next to the Hunter and with his claws started to comb out Trevor's tangled hair, careful not to slice his scalp. “He's in a terrible mood because he cares a great deal about you. You gave him quite the fright, being eaten and all. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to.”
And to that, to Joachim of all people, in front of the person he supposedly loved that he was soundly ignoring, Trevor looked up and gave a ghost of a smile. He handed the off-white spheroid to the Vampyre once Joachim was finished sorting out his hair. Waiting for the Vampyre to completely take hold of it, the Hunter then reached out and shook the rattling curiosity, hard. Not only did it have a pleasant jingling sound, but after the hard shake the odd curio gave off a soft blue glow. It was a calming hue.
The Vampyre was perfectly pleased with the gift. “I just love it, little Rabbit.” He enthused. “Where did you learn about this?”
Much to Alucard's chagrin, the fucking Junior Belmont answered Joachim. In a way. In a creative silent way. He placed his hands together and held out as if in a prayer, and then opened his hands together, palms upwards, as if he was opening a book to read. It was an obvious answer.
“Ahh yes, the little Belmont picture book.” Joachim correctly guessed. “Does it ever run out of the fun glowing goodness?” When Trevor shrugged, Joachim purred. “Well, I will keep your gift forever, so if it ever does, I'll make sure to add the discovery to your picture book. Have we a deal?” The brunette nodded in accord.
“I don't like whatever this is.” Alucard stated flatly, swinging the finger he was pointing between both Vampyre and Vampyre Hunter. “Stop doing it right now, and tell me absolutely everything that you've been up to.”
“You see what I have been saying now, right? He is just so human, my little Rabbit.” Joachim sighed, helping the Hunter to his feet in order to free up Alucard's pile of clothing and gear. The Dhampyre was appreciative of the opportunity to put his boots back on, but it wasn't his top priority.
“Joachim. What have you been up to? Why isn't he saying anything?” He pressed the matter again, redressing swiftly. “Trevor, what is... Are you... okay?” Mentally slapping himself he added quickly. “Obviously you're not okay but did something happen? Other than... You know. What happened.”
“Genya, man.” Hammer cut him off, saving the Dhampyre from digging a deeper hole. “That's got to be the worst approach.” The human also stood up and stretched out the kinks in his back from sitting on a rock for far too long. “You boys want to come back to camp with Julius and I? I could use some more coffee and a fire to sit by to chase off the damp.”
“Yes, that's a great idea.” Julius answered for everyone and jumped to his feet to do just that. “It's beginning to smell like a bunch of ogre corpses just voided their bowels and the flies are starting to gather in droves. A nice comfy fire is just what the doctor ordered.”
“Is that what you would like, Lapin?” Joachim asked. When the Hunter nodded after a quiet moment of thought, the Vampyre waved him on. “All right, we will follow them then. As you wish.”
Just when Alucard was beginning to feel like he was all alone in spite of being surrounded by supposed friends, the suddenly and concernedly mute Hunter reached out to take him by the hand. He fell in step with the Dhampyre as they followed Julius and Hammer's lead. Just that small touch, a hand held so loosely that too sudden a step would break the connection, was enough for Alucard. Just a sign, however small, that something was still inside what looked to be a hollowed husk of Trevor Belmont. If Trevor could not find the strength to hold fast to him, the Dhampyre would more than happily meet the man halfway. His grip tightened, uncaring that the overgrown nails on the Hunter's hand cut into his fingers.
“-So we just started tracking whatever after a while.” Hammer was mid-explaining how Julius and he had come to this 'neck of the woods'.
“I'm sorry we jumped in so late, Alucard. It did seem like you two had it all under control, plus you kind of looked like you were having fun. For a little while, anyway.” Julius offered his reply in a low voice. In the same gentle tone he complimented the younger brunette, trying to catch his eye with a smile but failing to do so. “I can see you are the real deal, Trevor Belmont. Pretty fancy footwork you have there.” Trevor, of course, said nothing.
“Does everyone have a case of bystander effect today or what?” The Dhampyre pondered out loud without any heat left from his earlier annoyance. “Either way, your assumption is correct; I was having a lot of fun for a while there. It felt like I was right back on the roads in Romania, alongside my first human friends and an endless army of night hoards to defeat. They are... Good memories.” His hand gave Trevor's another squeeze as he willed some of the warmth from his golden age recollections to reach the cold isolated man. There was no response, verbal or otherwise, which cut the Dhampyre. Please just say something to me... He would give anything to hear Hunter speak right in that moment. Even if it was just to tell him to 'fuck off'. Just to know he would be okay.
Idle chatter and musings at the little skirmish the group had just participated in filled the air as they band of men returned to the promised campsite. For the last days of September, the air in the density of the forest carried a dampening chill, the kind bodies that had been warmed by the daylight leached their energy out along with the heat. Camaraderie alone kept them marching, it seemed. Some more than others. For all the weariness exuding off the Hunter connected to him through that one lifeline, the brunette kept his pace up. He never slowed, nor looked as if he would, so it was another relief to see the aforementioned campsite come into view around the next dip in the terrain. Hammer hustled on ahead to start the fire, keen on jump-starting the brew of his much desired coffee, while Julius hung back near Alucard, offering silent moral support. Joachim... Well the Vampyre twirled as he hovered through the air this way and that to follow Hammer around, clearly amusing himself.
Reluctantly, Alucard let Trevor go and the Hunter picked his way silently to the log Julius or Hammer must have pulled up alongside the flames a previous night. A simple military tent and tempo had been set up, tarp laid out on the ground with gear and provisions. Hammer was fast at putting a pot on before he began to forage for MRE's packed away. Joachim found opening the packed meal kit to be quite fascinating, distracted easily he always was by surprises, that it took some effort on Alucard's part to draw the demon's attention. When he finally had it, he beckoned the Vampyre to come sit by the fire, near enough to Trevor to be at his side in an instant if need be, but far enough away for plausible deniability about smothering the silent man. Julius hovered nearby, probably with the same considerations in mind.
“What have you been up to since you two have been gone, Joachim?” He asked for the third time that eve. “I would like to know everything.”
“You should know most of everything by now, Kitten. You found us, did you not?” The Vampyre made a pleased sound, reaching out to stroke the side of his face with the back of his hand. “I am very impressed you did, as well. Our little Rabbit has such a deceptive scent, does he not? Very tricky, just like everything else about him. It was oh so fun to lose and find him time and time again.”
“I know where you have been, Joachim, not what you did.” The Dhampyre stressed. “What have you been doing with him? Do you know why is he like that?” After a beat he added. “How long... has he been like that?” He could see the Vampyre dismissing his questions, not seeing the importance of such concerns, that to Joachim, seemed trivial things. Alucard would not have it, yet another dismissal, so he reached out to slide his hand between the folds of Joachim's coat. His palm working through fabric until he could lay his flesh against the Vampyre's bare chest. Averse to experiencing either extremes, torrid intense emotions or the terrifying void as Joachim sought to keep the rising tides at bay out of consideration for his sensitivities, Alucard could think of no better way to get his desperation across. It's not trivial to me, Joachim. Please feel how afraid I am of losing him right now. Whether it's physically or to madness. Please Joachim.
As he'd hoped, the ancient Vampyre's unique talent picked up on his intent and desperation. The Vampyre's twinkling silver eyes lost their mirth, replaced by an unreadable mirror glaze. After a quiet moment, his hand was removed by force, but held between the two demons, where Joachim could continue to read the fluctuations in his heart. “You have certainly shown a lot of nerve of late.” The Vampyre observed in a measured tone. “It makes you much more interesting than you already are. I wish I had thought to find you a rabbit to chase earlier. Then again... I suppose this little rabbit is the only one whose blood you've got a taste for.” Joachim gave the hand he held a sharp tug to keep him in place as Alucard made a move to get up, wholly believing the Vampyre was going to continue to evade his questions. “Sit still, halfbreed, I am not done.” He commanded. “If you must know, the little doll talked feverishly for days. A great deal about his mother and France, a forced marriage and mission, and quite bitterly how he wished he'd just been apprenticed by a carpenter or a shipwright or something normal. Whatever normal is. There was a great deal he had to say about you as well, Kitten.”
“That you can skip over.” Alucard gave permission, but Joachim shook his head.
“No, Kitten, based on the fear and apprehension I feel in you, I believe you need to hear it.” The Vampyre insisted. “I am doing you a kindness, you should thank me. In fact, do it. Right now.”
“Joachim I don't really...” It was no use with the Vampyre. He sighed, bit his tongue, and grit out in a terse tone. “Thank you, Joachim.”
“You are most welcome, my Kitten. The truth of the matter is that your little Rabbit didn't have a bad thing to say about you.” The truth of the matter sounded rather suspect, but the Vampyre continued spinning his yarn, the pattern of which would no doubt be questionable. The demon never lied, but his truths were not always the conclusions most would draw. “The sweet thing confessed to me how he'd always felt one step beyond everyone else, not in an arrogant way he insisted, but in that he was out of sync with everyone and everything around him. Walking through his life like he was completing task after task just because these demands were expected of him and he had a family to feed. Imagine your whole life, thinking you were so odd and peculiar... That's how he felt, until he met you, little Kitty. Once you revealed yourself, the little bunny found that the peculiar halfbreed was just like he was. Kitten, you made him feel like it wasn't that he'd been out of step with everyone else, but instead he was just in-step with you. Isn't that lovely to hear?”
Alucard lowered his eyes and shook his head. “I don't know... Did he really say that?”
“Oh yes, that and more! Did you know you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, even though he had two wives and five children?” The Vampyre chortled. “I wonder what his wives must have thought of that!”
Alucard did not believe a word. “You are playing with me, Joachim. It is not kind under these circumstances.”
“I am not playing though, Kitten. It is the truth. There were so many details he told me about you, like how you were his shadow. You gave him the courage to keep going forward because you would be right on his heels. He could never turn back from his course because he'd have had to see the disappointment in your eyes. How you climbed inside his heart and filled the void he never knew he'd carried in there. How you presence and warmth permeated everything in his world, he could not bear to remember the frozen moments you were not in it, nor fathom the rest of his life without you. One day he was man existing, doing the right things for the right people out of obligation, and then suddenly there you were were alongside him... and he was a man living because he wanted to live with you. Don't you find that sickeningly romantic? I will admit I am a smidgen jealous Kitten, for I have never enchanted a creature as well as you have ensnared this one.”
“We cannot charm any of the Belmont clan who do not want to be charmed.” The Dhampyre reminded. “Their bloodline is immune.” Giving up on getting anything but teased from Joachim, he managed to pull away, and because there was nowhere else to go, he found his way to Trevor, kneeling down before the man. “Will you listen to the story he is telling me over there, Trevor?” He beseech the Hunter who neither looked at nor gave any sign of hearing him. With both hands held out he made a firm gesture towards the silent Hunter and shot Joachim a sarcastic look. “See, now this is the Trevor Belmont I know. The exasperating one I must fight tooth and nail with just to get a single inch. I believe what's right in front of me.”
“Oh Kitten, have some faith in yourself. You do have such features worthy of love. Your Rabbit thinks so.” Joachim purred, delighting very much in how very little Alucard was believing the words falling out of his bloodless lips. “The ramblings of his children were quite extensive as well. Aspirations and dreams for them, how much he wished he could have seen them coming into their own as individuals and finding their personalities, living their own lives. He mentioned that had you found him years ago, you'd be in threesome with a Witch? Wife number two, was it? How very industrious of you both to share your man.” Deeply satisfied by the glare Alucard shot him, Joachim kept divulging supposed truths as he'd constructed them, and the Dhampyre simply could not take him at his rosy interpretations. The demon knew how much he'd desired to hear such things, if they were in fact the truth. If Trevor Belmont would just stand up and tell him with his own voice... That he would believe. And love. “Why such a face, Sweet Princeling? The very creature you adore expressed such a deep desire to raise a family with you. How much more saccharine could you want it?”
“If it is all right with you, my friend, I will wait to hear it from the horse's mouth. You'll forgive me my skepticism, yes?” Gaze fallen on the mute, affect-less brunette before him, the Dhampyre deflected. You were the one who reached out to hold my hand just before... not I. Yellow eyes studied cobalt whilst the sounds of cutlery and mess kits rattle behind, meals almost finished preparation. That wonderful voice of yours seems to have taken flight, but you are still in there, of that I am certain. How can I reach you, Trevor? How can I make you speak to me? Even just one word?
Desire to touch and connect however tenuous overwhelming his senses, the Dhampyre reached out gently so as to give the mute Hunter the chance to withdraw from the touch or push him away, an ample chance that was not taken. With Trevor's seeming permission granted, his arms encircled the Hunter's waist, the side of his face resting against the man's chest. It was enough. To half-kneel, half-lay in the tragedy magnet that was Trevor Belmont's lap, feeling that familiar blood pump with every familiar heartbeat, in that slow, familiar calming pace it always did when the Hunter was at rest. It was enough to know that Trevor was alive and feel that life humming beneath his touch. Against all the rules of time and space, all schools of logic, and against all odds... Trevor Belmont lived. Chest fluttering beetle wings took flight once more as he was physically accommodated, Trevor shifting in place so that they better fit together, opening his knees so as to allow the Dhampyre space to slip comfortably inside, tightening and completing their embrace. What did it matter that he should be the one doing the comforting? Where he lay, surrounded by the only person he'd ever loved so completely, was a warm and safe haven. They were together. They were connected. Everything that could not be made right would be made bearable, so long as they were together. That was what Trevor had told him, and he would believe. He trusted Trevor Belmont.
“You know, demons falling in love is a very rare occurrence.” Joachim expounded as a matter of fact, like a tired teacher hammering in the same lessons he could only dream would stick one day. “Our cannibalistic eat the weak nature makes it a little hard to have one demon submit to the other, or even stand as equals. One nearly always wants to dominate and will tear the object of it's affection apart sooner or later, whether or not by choice. So you can understand why it does not happen very often.” The Vampyre took a few steps closer to better study them around the blazing campfire. “It does happen, usually to a fool of a demon, and when it does, it is such a syrupy and sappy sight. Imagine a world where such saccharine sweetness poured out unbidden. We'd all be drowning in their affections. Like now, Kitten. You are putting on a show.”
“I am exactly where I want to be right now. Look away if you find the sight of my happiness so offensive.” He murmured in reply while accepting that fact that Trevor placing both his hands on each of Alucard's shoulders was proof he was not only where he desired to be, but where Trevor needed him to be as well. The touch encouraged him to nestle even closer, which he did not think possible a second earlier.
“Now, now, Kitten. Where did I imply I do not enjoy a show? Are we all allowed to watch if you get on with it already?”
“It's not that kind of show, Joachim. Sorry to disappoint.”
The Vampyre shrugged and lifted back into the air, twirling around the fire in a languid display, playing chicken with the errant sparks. “Just as well, as I have not told you the most important part. We were having ever so much fun seeing the sights and wandering the lands here until your paramour had... Well let's call it a mood. After our dear little Bunny had his moment, and what a terribly debilitating moment it was, he stopped speaking entirely. Logically I assumed it must have been all the wailing and heavy, ceaseless sobbing. I thought perhaps that whole spectacle and production of tears simply strained his voice beyond use. But it has been so many days now, and he still does not speak.” The Vampyre relay the facts simply, without any sound of sympathy or empathy evident in his voice, face, or mannerisms. Who could say what the demon thought of the whole matter, or if he was capable of compassion for the poor human Hunter's plight. “Do you want to know what his lasts words were to me, before he lost his voice?” Joachim asked.
Alucard drew back to look up from his haven of comfort and safety at the one who provided him such a luxury. Happily surprised to find the Hunter was looking back at him. Not passed him or just in his general direction by happenstance, but intentionally meeting his eyes. Happiness faded under the weight of the clear sorrow pouring into him from the smaller man in his arms. The hands on his shoulders tightened painfully. What are you trying to tell me, my love? What is it you cannot say to me that I wish you could? Without breaking their gaze, he asked in a subdued voice, alien to his own ears. “What was the last thing he spoke to you, Joachim. I would like to know.”
“It was a question, actually. Perhaps you may be able to answer it for our poor little Rabbit?” Joachim hummed as he thought. “I am unable to think of one.”
“Joachim... Please?”
“Of course, Kitten. After all that terrible self-pitying and grieving over ages long dead spawn, wondering what great sins he was guilty of to have warranted such a cruel fate, he asked me one last thing.” Joachim's playful swirls ceased, as he landed just where Alucard could see him in full form. “He wanted to know what great sins you, Kitten, have committed in order to deserve being punished alongside him?” Joachim paused after the revelation, as if to allow time for the dramatics he so did love. “See? I was not lying the slightest. Your Rabbit cares very deeply for you as well, and feels he has become a terrible burden for you to bear. Perhaps you can enlighten the wretched thing as to what you have done to be given him as your penance? I cannot for the life of me think of the answer.”
Oh Trevor... Cobalt pools peering so forlornly into his own yellow flames, filled with tears that would not fall. It broke his heart to see and know some of the anguish Trevor was suffering. How many friends and companions, acquaintances and partners had Alucard watched pass on by this point? Most of them lived full good lives, which was a saving grace. It was only sad they were no longer able to continue sharing those good lives. Yet even he, a tragic Prince in his own right, cast from his kingdom and guilty of both patricide and regicide... Even he had never been in a position to lose so much all at once. He'd never been bereft of every loved one in a singular fell swoop and been found to be utterly alone. He could not possibly hold the man in his arms any tighter without crushing him, so he could only pray the gentle spectre of a smile pulling at his lips were assurance enough. This was no burden, where he was by the Hunter's side. He was right where he needed to be.
Head falling forward again, back in place against the steady heartbeat, he noticed the beat quicker than before and growing increasingly erratic in step with the Hunter's distress. Making soothing noises, he ran his hands along the poor thing's back, willing the anxious energy to abate. “Please believe me when I say this. You are no punishment being meted out, or penance I am to owe, Trevor. We are here out of tragic circumstance, no more.” Voice soft, he reached out to capture the Hunter's chin with his thumb and forefinger, to keep him from looking away when he needed to listen most of all. “I know you want to believe there is a purpose or reason for what has become of you, but there may not be. We may just be here because this is how our lives played out, and that has to be acceptable if we're going to move on from this point. You'll never know how sorry I am that you have to learn this lesson... It was a very difficult lesson to learn for myself. But there is no other way to survive a long life like mine without accepting that not everything has an answer. Or a reason. Or mercy...” Smiling more fully now, he searched out the glassy pools of blue-grey for any signs his words were getting through. “This has been terribly cruel for you and even still, that I am holding you now is nothing short of a miracle in my eyes. I am here if you need me... If you want me. You are no burden on my shoulders, I promise.”
While the Hunter still said nothing, the hands gripping his shoulders softened, sliding instead into place around them. Alucard chose to interpret the change as a silent thanks, and was content to stay as they were for as long as Trevor chose. Around them Julius relaxed, no longer feeling the need to be on high alert. The elder man joined Hammer in prepping the final touches on their meal, and even Joachim left them blessedly alone in favour of harassing Hammer, wanting to know what was in every individually wrapped foil package of the MRE, and what each tasted of.
With only four cups to go around, so many unexpected camping guests having arrived, Alucard decline the offered coffee in favour of both the curious Vampyre and so that he could ensure that Trevor was consuming a little of something. The man had not responded to the offered portion of the meal ration, but he did at least accept the steaming beverage handed over in a stainless steel travel mug. Julius had given the Dhampyre a slight smile and wink as he added more sugar and powdered cream to the Hunter's cup. Anything to get a little more calories into the too thin body was welcomed. Alucard only returned to his comfortable haven once he saw the brunette lift the cup to his lips, one hand still encircling his shoulders. It was enough of a positive sign for now.
Everyone more or less settled in. Julius and Hammer in their camping chairs to dig into a fireside meal, Joachim soaring off into the forest canopy with his stolen mug of Hammer's coffee, chasing another of his indecipherable whims, and Alucard entwined with Trevor. The fire crackled, casting orange glows and long shadows around them all. Meals eaten in standard army time and mess kits rinsed, in no time at all Julius turned the conversation fully towards business. Might as well. They were all there with the exception of Yoko.
“As I was saying, we've been out here a few days ourselves just hiking and tracking whatever we came across that didn't look like animal trails. Found a few pockets of demons here and there, none as numerous or large as what we just routed down in the basin with you two. I was hoping for more, but I haven't found any human tracks this deep into the woods, or any signs of this Lilû. If, in fact, that is what the familiar in the trees we saw was. No secret lakes that became mysterious sudden ponds either.” Julius joked. “Missy did mention if she had anything for me she would reach out by Friday, so we intended to pack it in and head back tomorrow morning. Would be nice to check in on Yoko too. Poor girl's been pulling a lot of long days these past few weeks.” With another joking laugh, he elbowed Hammer. “You should do something nice for her. She's been working so hard.”
“I do nice stuff for her all the time. She's very easy to be nice to.” Hammer laughed in reply. “You two are the ones who should do something nice for her. You're the ones working her like a dog.”
“It's training.” Julius defended his actions. “I have high hopes for your future wife.”
“Careful, she didn't say yes yet.”
“You have to ask her first before she can say yes, Hammer. That's how it works.” Julius sighed. “Which she will, because she loves you, big guy. I'm looking forward to the after party at her family's estate once we're done with this last mess.”
“You and me both, brother.” The army vet agreed readily. With a nod in Alucard's direction he questioned. “I'm assuming you flew over here on your bat wings, but how did Trevor get out here? I doubt he knows how to drive.”
“He walked.” Alucard answered, causing Hammer to whistle.
“Well then, since it doesn't exactly look like you're in the mood to carry a human back with your tiny ass bat feet, you both can absolutely grab a ride back with us.”
“I've done it before, believe it or not.” Alucard revealed with a small laugh of his own. “It's not easy, so I would very much appreciate the offer, Hammer.” With a little peek at Trevor, he queried the brunette. “You think we should graciously accept as well, right?” The Hunter's slight nod was encouraging, both as a sign he was listening and thus still with them, but also that Alucard was starting to believe he could work with Trevor through this troubling mute phase until the Hunter could find his voice again.
“Say, Trevor...” Julius hedged, only continuing once the Hunter looked in his direction. “Was there anything strange you saw while you were out here with Joachim? Other than those almost but not quite ogre demons we just eradicated.” While Trevor maintained his gaze in Julius' direction, he neither said anything or gave any other non-verbal response. “Nothing at all? Nothing moving in the trees or the bushes around you? No odd light-bending demons? No sense of being watched or stalked while you were out here?” Mute Hunter simply blinked, nothing betrayed in his eyes. Julius shrugged, having given it a shot. There was nothing else to be done. “That's all right then, don't worry about it.” The elder hunter assured the silent man. “To be honest, I'm rather relieved to hear it.”
“As am I.” Alucard agreed. “You know Julius, the familiar we chased never tried to attack us back. Not even when I pounced on it. It caught me and stopped my assault, but it did not retaliate. If Trevor was with Joachim, it's possible it was just too afraid to approach him. Joachim is not so friendly a demon as I.”
“Very possible. But I could sense it presence same as you. I guess I was just hoping if it was around, Trevor would have picked up on it skulking about. I guess I am also a little frustrated I haven't found hide nor hair of it yet. Some legendary hunter I turned out to be, huh? Eluded by a shadow in the trees.”
“If it is this mythological Lilû, I am certain the so-called progenitor of my species is a myth precisely because he is hard to find. I wouldn't take it as a knock against you.”
“Yeah, but imagine being able to say you caught and bagged a living legend?” Julius shot back, a fire in his visage and voice. “I would retire after that feat.” With another attempt to get some reaction out of Trevor, the elder brunette prodded. “What say you, Trevor Belmont, Vampyre Hunter? Would you like to hunt down and catch an old world god? It would make a hell of an entry into the Belmont Bestiary.”
For a moment Alucard's heart jumped into his throat as Trevor leaned forward and opened his mouth. With a struggling sound of defeated breath exhaled, the Hunter just could not force out what he'd intended to say. Shaking his head, and heart beginning to thump faster into that distressed tempo, Alucard tried to sooth him again, to bring him back down into calmer waters.
“It's fine, Trevor. Really, it's all right. Show me what you are trying to say in another fashion. Maybe I will be able to figure it out?” Alucard offered. He watched the Hunter discard his coffee cup to put his hands back in that prayer position and mimed opening the book again. The last time he had done the action was to refer to the Bestiary. He pointed at his palm with the index finger and made a motion much like cursive writing. Context clues coming together, the Dhampyre nodded. “That's right.” He smiled broadly to show the stressed brunette he had understood. “You said the creature we described was already in your family's Bestiary. If I recall properly, you mentioned it can drain the strength of it's prey, but it does not eat flesh, only vegetation. You also said it possessed beguiling strength of it's own, and that it originated from Canaan.” Trevor's nod filled him with pleasure. Proof enough that they could make this current trial work in their favour.
Next it was Julius who surprised him with a pleasant gesture. The elder hunter stood up from the camp chair, fetched his tablet from out his bag and came to join them on their log. He sat next to Trevor making sure he had the younger Belmont's attention and at long last, included him in the hunt. The screen illuminated, showing Trevor the digitized record of his family's priceless collective life's work. “This is a copy of the Belmont Bestiary. Just like the map Alucard has shown you, this is a way to carry the Bestiary in a more portable fashion. The book is quite hefty. Here is the index.” Julius explained. He scrolled to the selection of entries classified under the 1450 to 1500 sub-heading, jumping the PDF to that collection and started scrolling through page by page until he hit the mostly redacted Shadow Monster's entry. “Someone erased this entry. But that is the creature we saw for sure. Is this the entry you were thinking of?” The Hunter nodded quickly, his eyes drawn to the old familiar text... if in a foreign form to what he recalled. “So when you had the Bestiary, this entry was in there. You knew it off the top of your head, from what I heard. Do you remember the last time you read that Bestiary entry?”
The Hunter nodded, but less quickly this time. After a moment to ponder, he touched a hand to his chest before holding it out straight. Palm facing the ground, he lowered it until it hovered maybe knee-high off the ground... about the height of a small child.
“The last time you read that particular entry you were a little boy?” Alucard guessed. He was correct based on Trevor's reaction. “Then you didn't read it while you were in Wallachia, before or after our journey together?” The Hunter shook his head no. “All right...” The Dhampyre frowned, a suspicious niggling thought pulling at the corners of his mind. Without wanting to follow the logic his suspicions were bringing him to, there was really no choice in the matter. The mystery had to be solved. “When you read the entry as a small boy, the Bestiary belonged to Sonia Belmont.” Alucard took the plunge. “Trevor, do you know who wrote the entry on this demon and sketched this picture?” To answer, the Hunter grabbed a fistful of his hair and quickly braided it. It was a very clear response. “Sonia filled out this entry. Sonia had the book, Sonia saw this creature, Sonia recorded it... And then it stands to reason that for some reason between the time you were a little boy studying to follow in her footsteps and the time she bequeathed the Bestiary into your care... Your mother erased this entry.”
“Do you have any idea why she would do that?” Julius followed up immediately, hungry for knowledge. “I had a hard time believing a Belmont would erase the work of their forefather's but if it was her own entry..?” Julius waited a beat, just long enough to see he would get nothing out of Trevor. “Best case scenario is she erased it because she got things fundamentally wrong. The entry details. Maybe she meant to rework it at a later date. Worst case... Well. Worst case, your mother erased this entry because she had something she wanted to hide.” Trevor grew still in Alucard's arms and gave no other signs of life or response to Julius. “See here if I zoom in... the sketch itself was starting to be scratched away but it looks like the one who did it could not find it within themselves to erase it completely.”
“We'll likely never know.” Alucard tried to interject, but Belmonts were like dogs with bones, and Julius had a mighty fine one with some meat on it. The elder hunter brushed off his comment and kept at it.
“The Bestiary is practically sacred. The drawing is also on the backside of her own father's entry on Kagitsume. That's why she did not erase the sketch. She did not want to risk damage to her late father's work. So with no other choice, maybe the reason she did not tear the pages out and burn them was because she meant to rewrite the entry with false information? To further hide the truth by providing a plausible falsehood? She either just could not bring herself to write lies in the family bible when it got down to committing the act, or... Well, she did die young.”
“We'll never know.” Alucard repeated, beginning anew his soothing circles along Trevor's back. For all the mute things outward stillness, his heart hammered away fiercely. Julius' accusations and hypotheses cut the already emotionally traumatized man deeper still. There was no love like a boy for his mother. Alucard could attest to that.
Out of all people, it was Hammer that saved them. “Jules.” The army vet interrupted purposely. “It's late, it's been a long day, and some of us more than others are having a real rough time lately. Maybe tonight is not the best time to drag a kid's mom through the mud on a hunch?”
Shocked out of his suspicious rabbit-hole, Julius did have the decency to look genuinely apologetic and contrite. “You are absolutely right, Hammer.” Looking to Trevor he placed a hand on the younger Belmont's shoulder and gave a light squeeze. “I am extremely sorry, Trevor. I'm not saying Sonia did anything one way or the other. I am just trying to figure out what is so special about this demon someone would try to cover it up or protect it.”
“Where are you sleeping? In the tent with us? Might be a squeeze, so I don't mind roughing it out here for a night. The kid looks like he could use a good night's rest.” Hammer further changed the subject, reading the room... Well... Forest.
Gratefully, Alucard laughed. “Up close and personal with Julius' snoring? No thank you.” Rocking the Hunter in his arms a little he asked playfully. “Do you want to sleep under the stars like old times? It could be nice for a change of pace.”
When Trevor nodded after some thought, Hammer vanished into the tent and returned with his mattress pad that usually his sleeping bag was placed on top of, and a spare thick blanket, even going so far as to lay it out by the fire. “Here, you can borrow that for tonight.”
“Are you sure?” Alucard tilted his head. “You will not be uncomfortable sleeping in just a sleeping bag on the tent tarp ground?”
“I've slept in water-logged trenches, on bumpy trains, and in a sweltering tank. Mossy forest floor's going to feel like a luxurious King-Size bed compared to that. I'll live.” He accepted their thanks and reached out to haul Julius to his feet. “Come on, buddy. You know I can't get my quality forty winks without you sawing logs next to me.”
“It's going to be quite the hurdle Yoko will have to get used to.” Julius erupted in a belly laugh over the very thought. “Sleep well then, Alucard and Trevor. We'll leave early, okay?” Satisfied with their nods, Julius followed Hammer into the tent and left the two entwined lovers to themselves.
Alucard saw fit to stay where he was, enjoying the sudden silence, save crackling flames and popping wood, steadily counting down the the frantic racing of Trevor's heart until it levelled off. Back to normal. Back to that slower than normal human beat... Trevor's normal. His soothing circles stopped in favour of just holding his Hunter. From his place in Trevor's arms he saw the book-bag laying against the log. The one that held the extra gear and the two volumes of drawings he had placed inside.
“The drawings in your bag...” He whispered so only the Hunter could hear. “Did you look at them?” Trevor shook his head slowly. “I had hoped you would... It is late though, and you are very tired. I can feel it in your bones.” Remembering suddenly he had a treat, he dug into a coat pocket to pull out a chocolate bar and presented it to the Hunter. “Here. You did not eat, which I can understand why not. But perhaps you will find appetite enough for some chocolate.” Leaving Trevor to unwrap and pick at the candy bar, relieved that in spite of it being pure sugar and junk food, at least it was enticing enough to get a little something inside his stomach, Alucard went to better arrange their sleeping accommodations. “I will show you the drawings tomorrow. I think it's important that you should see them.”
After slowly picking at and consuming about half the chocolate bar, Trevor stashed the rest in his bag. Saving food for later was also another positive sign in Alucard's mind. He welcomed the brunette back into his embrace, dressing him in the Dhampyre's coat for extra insulation before wrapping him neatly in cloak and blanket to lay down next to him on the mattress pad. Five hundred and fifty-eight years it had been since the last time they'd been in such a position, Alucard mused internally. Who would have ever thought it possible he'd be right back where they'd begun, on the ground in the woods somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. Trevor Belmont and his loyal Dhampyre. Certainly not Alucard.
Estimations of Trevor's physical state proved correct, as the Hunter was fast asleep in his arms before his private musings had even concluded. The kind of heavy dead-sleep only pure exhaustion could grant. The Dhampyre too nearly drifted off, as equally exhausted for all the same reasons. Emotional stress was no joke. Pointed ears twitched to attention even before his nose caught the scent not dissimilar to rushing water which, paradoxically, belonged to the one person who feared free-flowing water more than any other man or demon walking this earth. Joachim had returned and hovered over them.
“What are you doing, Joachim?” He barely whispered so as not to wake Trevor. “That is very creepy.”
Following his lead, the Vampyre replied back in the ghost of a whisper. “I am keeping you safe.”
Desire to let Trevor sleep or not, he shot right up to a seated position. There was no danger he could sense or smell or hear, but that did not mean that a two thousand year old Vampyre with vastly different abilities than his own did not. “From what, Joachim?” When the Vampyre said nothing, Alucard hissed a little louder. “Is there something in the woods? Keeping me safe from what, Joachim?”
“You do not need to go chasing anything, Kitten. Stay here. I will keep you safe.”
“Joachim. What is out there?” He growled now. “Is it that Lilû?” Joachim's formerly silver eyes, now a matte grey, were focused far into the depths of the woods, far past what his own yellow could make out. At full alert now, he climbed to his feet.
That's when it struck. The full weight of Joachim's Will. Suffocating pressure all around, he was forced back down, and against his own power and desire, made to lay beside Trevor and wrap the still sleeping Hunter in his arms. The shock and suddenness of the perversion of his own Will leaving him even less of a foothold to regain some of his own. Refusing to admit defeat, he clawed back, pushing against the Vampyre enough to crawl back up to a sitting position. Joachim was distracted with whatever he perceived out in the forests shadows, and the Dhampyre desperate to use every advantage to regain and assert his own Will.
“Again, your improvements of late are quite impressive, but your Rabbit is cold, Kitten. Stay here and warm him.”
Unable to push any further against the unyielding Force of Will, he snarled at the Vampyre. “What are you trying to keep me from, Joachim? What am I in danger of?” A quick glance at Trevor gave him a whole new wave of panic at the dawning possibilities. “What is he in danger of, Joa--”
Spectral tendril snaking down his throat and catching his tongue, Joachim's succinctly stifled his voice. The coiling tendrils pushed him back down into place when the Vampyre's Force of Will was not enough, and held firm. “Take a page out of the little one's book and shut up, halfbreed.” Crouching down beside them, an alabaster hand thread into his hair and stroked. “You have so much potential, Adrian, but you so often forget what I teach you.”
He never uses my name unless...
“If you want to live as long as I have, start paying attention when I speak. You do not need to go chasing after what is out there. I fear you may not come back if you do. That would upset your little Rabbit most of all. You are, after all, all that he has left.”
Joachim... He willed his desire to know through their contact, but whether the Vampyre felt his burning need, he could not tell. The Vampyre gave no sign the message was received.
“Warm the Rabbit, Adrian, and stay. I will be right here for as long as I need be, and I am enough to keep you safe.”
The Dhampyre lay still through no choice of his own. Joachim's hold was total. Yellow eyes peering into the darkness, his own heart hammering a frantic beat, there was no chance in hell he was going to be doing any resting, sleep or otherwise. The terrorizing vigil drawn out until the purple hues of predawn peeked in between the leaves of the forest canopy. As suddenly as Joachim's Will had seized him, the hold was relinquished. The Vampyre stood, brushed his coat of the leaves and twigs, and at last freed his tongue.
“There is nothing to be concerned about now. See yourselves home immediately, Kitten.” With that final command, the Vampyre was gone.
Alucard sat up, a trembling fear having crept in, icicles in his veins. Unable to take his eyes from the spot that had so transfixed the Vampyre all night, he reached out blindly to pull the blanket bundled Hunter into his arms and held him close. For both Trevor's safety and Alucard's comfort. They sat that way until the daylight returned, and whatever passed for the night hoards in this country were sure to have been banished. The threat Joachim warded against hopefully banished along with them. Until Hammer and Julius stirred, and the sounds of nature, birdsong, and insect calls, resumed. Only then, rejoined by the living world, did Alucard begin to feel safe again.
Looking at his stricken features, Julius paused his methodical packing and asked simply. “Rough night?”
In his arms, Trevor slept peacefully unaware.
The Dhampyre could only nod his head.
Chapter 31: Fractures
Chapter Text
October 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Neither the elder Hunter nor the army veteran had been amused to learn of what had transpired that fateful final night out in the woods. Joachim's terrifying vigil and refusal to even speak of what he stared down the entirety of the night rankling Julius to no end. The Jeep's small enclosed space had been thick with Julius' fuming anger and building suspicions. What else could it have been but the Lilû? And if not the Lilû, than what worse a creature, more dangerous than the supposed progenitor of all Desire demons, could have been beyond the scope of shadows to warrant Joachim's ward? What would or could stand in opposition of an ancient powerful Vampyre, and feel no need to back down in the face of such strength? Further adding to the mystery, what would make Joachim choose to stand sentinel over their small party than simply eradicating the threat?
The only logical conclusion Alucard could come to, was that Joachim had not been telling whole truths. Yes, Joachim had indeed kept them safe. The proof was that they were nearly at Alucard's garden home as they each sat in silence, puzzling out the pieces of last night. Yet Alucard could not help but suspect Joachim's insistence he'd stay put and not give chase to the creature in the woods was not entirely altruistic. Shadowing his mentor in spurts for centuries had given the Dhampyre insight into how the Vampyre operated, and the hierarchy demons tended to fall in line under. Joachim, in nearly every situation, came out on top when establishing the pecking order became necessary. Knowing this, the fact the Vampyre hadn't closed the distance and marked the campsite territory as his own, after all his bluster about keeping Alucard safe was quite telling. Instead, the Vampyre had crouched down next to the Dhampyre, placed a hand on him, and stayed in place. They had been... United, more or less. If logic were to be applied, it was not one demon staring down the shadow in the woods, but two. Alucard believed by way of his own vaulted place in the Demon Hierarchy, he had kept Joachim just as safe as the Vampyre kept him, unknowingly. As Alucard also, more often than not, did come out near, if not on top, when the pecking order was called into question. The more the matter was pondered, the more convinced he became that he'd been tricked and forced into providing his protection by way of Joachim's Force of Will. For Alucard never listened and never learned, Joachim always bemoaned. He was not wrong, for Alucard, had he been allowed his freedoms the previous night, would have stepped into the darkness in order to face the shadow head on. That was just the kind of foolhardy demon he was.
Julius was in agreement with his speculations, and not only because the aged Vampyre Hunter would trust a Vampyre about as far as he could be thrown. It made no sense for Joachim to guard Hammer and he. The Vampyre could move in limited bursts between the blink of an eye, almost like teleportation it could seem to the untrained. It took a lot of energy, but the Vampyre surely had more than enough stored to escape the forest. That he'd stood with Alucard instead of running, Julius' hypotheses stood to reason, was because Joachim's pride could not stand backing down even when challenging a rival demon was not a sure gamble. Or even worse...That Joachim did not dare turn his back on what was in the woods last night.
The whole ordeal was vastly unsettling to the group of men contemplating their mortality in the silence of the Jeep. All except Trevor Belmont. The mute, defeated Hunter continued to sleep, undisturbed by jostling, heated debate, traffic sounds, or his usual night terrors. Alucard held him whilst laying in the backseat in a sprawl likely to get them ticketed for lack of seatbelts, but could care less about Hammer's demerit points. The Dhampyre needed the brunette close for his own comforts. Trevor Belmont was a balm for what ailed him, soothing frayed nerves and emotional instability just with his presence alone. Painful loneliness had near consumed the Dhampyre in their time apart, short as it was, and he feared what another parting would do to his mental state were they forced on separate paths once more by tragic circumstance. Grappling with his own immortality gave rise to the grim realization that... Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș was not going survive another goodbye from Trevor Belmont. It wasn't in him any longer to carry on solo. When the beautiful being in his arms left this mortal coil for good, Adrian would follow. The decision was made.
Hammer dropped him off with a tight-eyed, tired, but all together kind smile, assisting him carry Trevor inside by opening the door and pulling back the blankets on the bed, so as to easily tuck in the sleeping Hunter. With a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, the army vet saw himself out to take Julius back to the hotel and meet up with Yoko, most likely. That left Alucard alone to hang Trevor's bag and sweater up, untie his shoes and place them by the entrance-way, and store his own gear. In all that time and jostling, the sleeping Hunter still did not wake.
Stripping down to change into simple sweats and a tee-shirt, Alucard found he could no longer resist the urge to climb into the bed alongside Trevor. Steady heartbeat calling his name, he lay his head on that chest... and fell asleep. Blackness simply consuming the moment he breathed in that sweet scent of faint earth and sky. Waking in a daze, he felt the Hunter climbing back into bed with him, the flushing sounds of the washroom his only clue in the dark that Trevor had been anywhere else but in his arms. They had slept all the day and evening... Or at least, Alucard had, going by the clock on the bedside table. Still, exhausted as he was, he was beyond grateful Trevor allowed him to sidle back up and wrap himself around the smaller man. Inside his rational mind, logic dictated he should get up and make the too-thin Hunter something to eat. The brunette had fasted far long enough as is. Emotions, however, dictated he stay still, stay connected. As long as Trevor wanted to lay here, he would be happy holding his love in place. Sleep must have come for them both again, for next it seemed the sun was blinding him through the window. All convictions aside... The Dhampyre found he was the one now who really... really needed to urinate.
When nature calls, so the saying goes. He heeded the call.
Hands freshly washed, he returned to the Hunter's bedside and took a seat on the edge to better study the brunette. Skin paler than even the porcelain it normally was, almost a bluish green with translucency, the Hunter's sculpted handsome features were instead more haggard and gaunt. As if the man had not spent the better part of a full day in self-appointed bed-rest. It was a concerning sight, for sure, and made Alucard fiercely miss that scarce handful of weeks where the Hunter had simply been enjoying being by his side, no imminent tragedy on his radar. Just good food, good drinks, good laughs and good times. A sample of what their life could be like, if only this hardship could be surmounted, and this Witch business put to rest. There is still a chance. He reminded himself. I trust you, Trevor. You told me that we can make it all right, so long as we're together, and I will never leave your side... You will be okay in the end. Right back in the place where you love me, no matter what. I believe you... And I love you no matter what.
“You do not look well, Trevor.” His voice was low and gravelly from disuse, but gentle. His touch was as well, as he checked for fever or chill. Together they just had to scale this hill, tooth and nail if need be. The truth had set them free to mend and heal. It was time for Alucard to keep his promise and piece the broken man back together. He was ready. “It's just the two of us here right now. Are you able to... Talk to me?”
Predictably, but still heartrendingly, the Hunter only blinked slowly in response. Unlike the night before when Julius had asked him a question, Trevor did not even attempt to reply.
“It's okay, Trevor. When you're ready.” With a light kiss on the crown of his oily hair, very much in need of a wash, he left the brunette to fish through the kitchen for something suitable and simple to eat. The only thing found was one of Yoko's little cup-o-soups. Surely the girl would donate to the cause, so he boiled the kettle and poured some cold water in a glass to drink. When the soup was ready he returned to Trevor's bedside to try and entice the Hunter to eat. “It's soup you can just drink. Yoko seems to eat them a lot.” He explained, trying to coax the man to give it a try, but Trevor weakly pushed his offer away, content to seemingly waste away before his eyes. It hurt to watch vital sustenance be rejected when it was clearly needed, but he would not push anything on the emotionally unstable man. Only offer, keep offering, and wait, fully believing loving support would win out over heartache and despair in the end. “All right... I'll leave it right here if you change your mind, alongside some water.” He relented with some effort. It was still hard not to simply force the sodium laced soup down the Hunter's throat out of worry. He even fished out the half eaten chocolate bar and placed that on the nightstand. Leave the man some options, and maybe he'd pick one.
It was difficult, as well, not to smother the Hunter out of his concern. He wanted nothing more than to hold him, sooth him, and love him. Trevor seemed compliant and submissive, but it was hard to tell if he allowed Alucard's fussing touches out of desire or resignation. Alucard wanted to believe the reciprocate touch from the night in the woods held true, but the latest iteration of Trevor Belmont that woke up this morn felt even more hollowed-out than the one that had felled the broodmother. A spark of Trevor had been in that one. Even the sparkle in those unique cobalt irises was dead. A flat glassy pane that let no light in or out.
Is there some way to reach you..? Alucard chewed his own lower lip until he tasted blood thinking the problem over, and then continued to do so out of a self-soothing habit. Destructive or not.
Furtive contemplation was broken by Trevor handing him a tissue from the nightstand in order to clean up his blood. “Oh. Thank you.” However little, Trevor's small act of concern for his own well-being gave him a glimmer of hope, and a spark of ingenuity. Thinking it over, the only responses he'd gotten had been after he displayed signs of being in distress, or showing vulnerability. Was it that Trevor's... love... for him, his care and concern, seemed to reach Hunter? To pull him out of his mire of misery just to help the Dhampyre he loved feel a little bit better? It... seemed like it. How very like the Hunter, it would be, to care for his loved ones and companions at the expense of himself.
Dabbing at the the mess he'd made, he bounced to his feet to retrieve the sketchbooks from the Hunter's bag and returned with them, plan firmly set in motion. They were two weeks late in being shared, but now was as good a time as any. With all honesty, he believed it was important the Hunter see what he wanted to show him, for both of them. For Trevor to see what his struggling and strife had wrought, and what Alucard had done by taking up the fallen Hunter's torch. The Dhampyre could only pray that it would offer some solace to his brokenhearted Hunter. “Say Trevor... If you don't have any other plans, would I be able to share these with you now? I've wanted to show you for a long time now...” Request put out there dripping with trepidation, he waited for a sign.
Of course, there was no immediate response, but the Hunter did watch his movement now, so he took it as a small victory. Stepping over Trevor's chosen side of the bed, he took a comfortable seat by the headboard and opened up the first sketchbook collection he'd arranged in chronological order. Here he waited, both nervous and self-conscious, but equally hopeful that Trevor would recognize and respond to his needs. The wait was not long, as something stirred within the Hunter's glassy blank gaze. Just a small hint of life. The hand that had so thoughtfully offered him the tissue for his bloodied lip now reached out to pull him gently to Trevor's side. He entreated with a light touch for the Dhampyre's head to lay on his shoulder and pulled the book more to towards the centre, where they could both see equally. It was a clearer sign than he'd expected.
With a small choked sound of relief, the Dhampyre turned the first page to a sketch of the Lost Commune circa 1482. Trevor's hand stayed in his hair, fingers musing the soft curls in what seemed an unconscious fashion. With a glance to ensure the Hunter was also looking at the pages on display, he nestled closer and began the tale of the wandering Dhampyre. The title would forever be a work in progress.
Turning sketch-page by ink-wash, he walked Trevor through how he'd arrived at the Lost Commune village. A haven for demons, beasts, witches, thieves and the rest of society's cast-offs. Following Sypha's lead and begging for sanctuary, two baby girls in tow. Innocents Luna and Soleil were who ultimately swayed the Great Mother, and Sypha's continued safety until her death lay at the feet of the daughter's Trevor had helped create. A place to call home was the Hunter's last gift to the diminutive Mage that had risked her life to stand by his side. He walked Trevor through his initial search for the missing Hunter alone on the road, chasing rumours and shadows. How he'd come across Grant leading a rebuilding effort across Romania. How much of his Father's blood-money had been gifted to the Rogue to fund and distribute amongst the efforts. How he'd learned of a Vampyre, one of Walter Bernhard's former generals, that hunted the hunters, and sought this dangerous demon out as a last ditch plea for help in his search. How Joachim had taught him what it meant to live as a demon in a way his Father had never, and how to truly hunt like one of the night hoards. Teachings that once mastered lead him to his first great setback. He shared still lifes of the Baljhet Mountains, and of the lone shack in the foothills. That was where he had discovered Trevor's coat, bag, gear, and the abandoned hallowed whip. Where he had lay in the bed stained with Trevor's years-since dried blood and wept into the leather cross emblazoned garment. Where he'd almost given up the first time.
A fine portraiture of Christopher and his wild flame of hair came next. Captured in sepia and ruby stain pulled from Romanian peonies, juxtaposed against his younger twin's demure in comparison chestnut. The softer boy sat for him only because he told stories of their father whilst doing so, and only after he'd won over the elder twin by returning the Vampyre Killer. With a laugh at the memory, he described how the red-head domineered over his brother, it very clear from such a young age he would be the one to inherit his father's Vampyre Hunter legacy. With only so few interactions with the boys, anachronistically he had also collected portraits done of them as men all together. Christopher with his birthright in hand and Belmont Bestiary, the gentle one, looking more the twin brother of Trevor than his son, garbed in ornate, near priestly robes. A doctor by trade, and a wealthy one at that. The twin men had thrived out in the world, and each made their mark.
Next, back in chronological order, came more sketches of Luna and Soleil, and of their mother. Sypha's hair flowed in endless ringlets down past her hips by the time he'd convinced her to sit for a portrait. She was achingly beautiful, with a sharp twist to her lips, almost cruel in her blunt version of kindness. She was missed to this day, Alucard confessed. She had been his stability when he'd been lost with loss. Turning a page to happier memories, Alucard described how like their elder brothers, the twin girls diverged in personalities, yet unlike their brothers, there were simply no similarities beyond their identical appearances. He divulged how Luna's wild tendencies and violent turbulent temper lead to her being thrown out of the home on more than one occasion, though he insisted she was not a bad child. Her emotions had always been just too much, too intense for her to know how to deal with them. Confessing more, he explained the reason he had more drawings of Luna was simply because she had spent more time with him, he as her care-taker when she at odds with Sypha. Which was often. Luna travelled with him as she was older, and he taught her what he could of his form of magick to help bolster her own learned from the mother she forever quarrelled with, and of demons and the night hoards in general.
Like wild-fire haired Christopher, Luna would in her own way take up her father's Vampyre Hunter legacy as well. She fell in love with a warg hunter in Targovişte, and their children studied both his trade and her spellcraft. They kept her name in their trade, Belnades, and became the first of the Belnades to openly join the Church in the fight against the night. He shared portraits of Trevor's grand-children, the ones he could convinced to sit for him at the time, and shared what he knew of the others who had not. The first Church Coven of sorceresses.
As the years drew on, he'd found Grant again and met Grant's pirate queen of a daughter. Scourge of the Black Sea. Her beauty had so captivated him, he'd refused for years to believe Grant had sired her, and that she was not a foundling. He'd done the same after meeting Grant's wife, for years suspecting she was a paid performer. Their loving marriage truly a testament to personality reigns if there ever was one. He showed Trevor Aljiba's restoration. Of life returned. Markets full, and home's dotting the former barren landscape. Shared Lupu integrated with time, the long nightmare stasis finally ended. The schools he'd funded. The improvements he'd made to the Lost Commune with memories of his father's technological know-how and much patient practice. A double-page sketch of Soleil, the dutiful daughter out of the girls, with her two adult sons and their own small children at Sypha's side. Trevor's great-grandchildren. Another of Sypha, now an elderly woman, peacefully living out her final days cataloguing her lifetime of learning into the grimoire that every Belnades after her would base theirs upon. Her own 'Belmont Bestiary' of sorts. Yoko, he explained with a proud smile, had a grimoire that was at it's base, basically a carbon copy of Sypha's, that had been expanded upon with further discoveries and formulas. Sypha's work, like Trevor's, was still in active use to this day.
The warm memories turned melancholy as he described how Grant was the first to go. Dying an old man in bed much to Grant's disbelief, and as a lauded hero, he was praised and celebrated for days after his passing. The man who had restored the blighted lands in Dracula's wake. His too beautiful wife passing not long after, the rumours had said of a broken heart. Sypha went next, peacefully and in her sleep, surrounded by a vigil of both her daughters and their children and spouses. Alucard had sat by her bedside as well as she slipped into whatever lay beyond, her hand held in his. She had squeezed his hand weakly, eyes closed, breath shallow, when he'd told her how much he loved her throughout the years. That she was beautiful to him even in that moment. Her spirit forever a beacon. Recalling the moment brought tears to his eyes, and he had to take a moment to gather himself.
When Trevor reached out with a hand to brush a stray tear from his cheek, he broke down a little and cried a few more.
Flipping pages he gathered himself and moved on, explaining how more and more the Lost Commune began to view him as their de facto leader after the Great Mother. He became embroiled in it's growth and evolution. It was hard to leave, but he did for a while. He travelled all of Europe looking for any sign of any man, Belmont or otherwise, who could have been Trevor. He'd rationalized that perhaps the Hunter had lost his memory after an injury or illness. Perhaps Trevor had chosen, against all logical reasoning, to simply walk away and start a new life. Without Sypha, and with Luna a grandmother, there was no need for him to safeguard the Belnades girls any longer. He;d gone out in spurts throughout the years when rumours had him thinking the tales could lead to Trevor, but now he'd dedicate decades. And he did. He wandered across the whole of Europe and Asia and back again, more than once. He'd even taken a ship from Gibraltar to Tangier and searched as far as Morocco chasing a rumour. Yet he never found a thing more. Heartbroken, he'd returned home, and because he thought it was what Trevor would have approved of... Lived simply. For a while, anyway. Finding and taking in others like himself, who needed the sanctuary he'd been allotted years ago with Sypha. Continued funding rebuilding the far reaching destruction in his father's wake, and creating enrichment projects across the lands his father had devastated. Walter's and Dracula's resources finally being put back into the hands of the people they'd been stolen from.
Another page turned, and he paused to gather his thoughts. It was a difficult time, this next period, for the Dhampyre. The Castle returned one year. The first time since it vanished in 1479. He recalled how everything felt lost. As if his struggles and pain from all those years ago had meant nothing. As if Trevor, Sypha and Grant's efforts and sacrifices had meant nothing. He cowered in the village telling himself he was protecting his people. He did keep it safe from the night hoards in the end, but it was yet another Christopher Belmont who stymied his father's revival attempt for twenty years before finally banishing the Castle back to the Veil between. By this point it had been over a hundred years since he'd made his own attempt with Trevor and their companions. The sight of his Father's Castle returning in spite of so much cost proved too much for him at the time. With shame, he confessed how in that weak moment he felt as if no good he could do would ever off-set his lineage. So he built himself a tomb beneath the Lost Commune and lay himself to rest.
Joachim would come to bother him then, once every year or so, lingering by his coffin side for months at a time, trying in vain to coax him out of his 'rest'. Regaling him with stories from the great demon's travels and promises to help the halfbreed prince find some excitement in his mournful existence, if his 'Kitten' would only allow him. That promised excitement came unbidden in an entirely different form. The Castle returned in 1691, again in spite of the twenty year struggle the last Christopher Belmont had suffered through. It felt hopeless. The world would never be safe from his Father's all consuming hatred and rage. Still, he climbed out of his coffin and stood guard over the village. Who else would keep all the lost ones and cast-offs safe? Who would keep the demons who did not want to fight for Dracula's army away from the killing fields? No Church affiliates or demon hunters, for certain. The Dhampyre protected his people, now grown so large a community they had off-shoot hidden villas. Word said another Belmont was on their way to the Castle. This one with golden hair, some rumours said, like that of an angel. Others said it was fiery red, more like a devil. Alucard never learned which, but it took a decade for this Belmont to finish the deed. The Castle did indeed get sucked back into the Void, the Belmont Hunter's success confirmed. Some of Alucard's final sketches showed the gravestone of Simon Belmont he'd journeyed from the Lost Commune to find. Simon Belmont had succumbed to Dracula's Curse from the wounds sustained in battle, but his sacrifice was forever in the annals of history.
Again, deeply disheartened by the prevalence of his father's evil twisted soul, so far from the kindness and temperance he'd been shown as a boy, Alucard chose instead to slumber. To hide the last living vestigial of Dracula away. The Belmont Clan seemed to always have a handle on the matter of Dracula's repeated attempts at revival. Why not leave it to them? More shame and he admitted he would have too, if not for the persevering presence of his Father's Castle, and the growing aura he recognized as his father physical manifestation. No revival attempt had ever progressed so far. With Joachim's prodding and teasing that he should just go a take Dracula's crown and kingdom for himself, and Alucard not sensing any holy figures or bloodlines in the Castle by way of his unique connection to his birthplace, he next told Trevor how he'd had no choice but to go back to the Castle. To try and stop his father alone, like he had before Trevor's mother had driven Dracula's armies to dormancy. This time he did not mean to be chased away licking his wounds. He lamented sadly how he'd found his father no different than they had faced him back in 1476. Still mad with anger and grief. Still unable to heed his son's fervent wishes that they both abide by Lisa's desires for them. To love mankind, as Alucard already had for centuries.
The second collection was nearing it's final pages. Sketches of Maria and Richter Belmont, his first human friends in a long while shared with a warm smile. One accidentally more risque sketch of Richter that had slipped in... Well, missed being slipped out, to be more accurate, and Alucard breezed over the fact that they had been lovers for a bit, just for the sake of maintaining honesty. It was two hundred years ago, after all. The final pages were of his lab beneath the Lost Commune and the beginnings of the city he would construct beneath it, and his tale finished verbally. About how he'd realized through Richter's failings, that even the mighty Belmont's were not immune to their own hubris and flaws, and that every one, man or monster, capable of standing up to what sought to tip the balance in any side's favour, should do so. No longer would he hide from Dracula's influence, but instead embraced the knowledge and power handed down through his lineage. Slowly, he reached back out into the world, Maria and Richter at his side, and made the first alliances between innocent devils and humans. He would meet the humans halfway for the guaranteed peaceful survival of both races. Alucard vowed he would keep the scales balanced. Who else was so perfectly suited for the job but one who carried both bloodlines?
Here he concluded his tale, promising if Trevor was ever interested, he would share just how he managed to make his money and connections work to get where he stood today. Capturing the Hunter's chin once again with thumb and forefinger to ensure he did not look away, the Dhampyre stressed what he spoke next. That the point he had wanted to make, the point Trevor needed to hear, was that while Trevor's time with his family and loved ones was short, the Hunter had left such a huge impact that rippled through time. Trevor's legacy had shaped red-headed twin Christopher and Luna into warriors. From him spawned the two eldest Clans that stood in opposition to the Chaos of the Void. Loving Trevor had changed Alucard, as well. Loving mankind at his mother's behest had allowed him to fall for the man who would teach him the compassion and forgiveness for all living things he carried to this day. That compassion drove him to strike that balance between his human and demon kin. Forever striving to find that common ground that would allow them to coexist.
Those grey-blue eyes were watching him intently now. Alucard leaned in just a little, driven by his adoration and gratitude towards the man who had taught him how to be a good one, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “You mattered, Trevor. The people you left behind accomplished amazing things and had wonderful lives. Your memory stayed with them all throughout... So I hope I was able to give you a few of their memories to keep.” Fishing back through the collection for his favourite sketch of Luna, he pulled it free once more to adore all over again. She did look so much like Sonia in that sketch. Sypha may have been his stabilizing force during those first years, but Luna had been his reason to get up from that bloodied bed in a shack by the foothills. “Luna was your baby girl, Trevor. You were her father and she knew that. It was never questioned. She knew you through Sypha and myself.” He stressed the fact, because it was important. Trevor was and always would be her father. The Dhampyre needed the Hunter to know it all, though. Everything was to be laid out between them from now on. “But I raised her, and I loved her, even when she was screaming mad and throwing priceless vases at me. I wish with all my heart that we had raised her together, but I did my best. She was a wonderful human being. I hope that counts for something.”
The mute Hunter gave nothing in return for his long winded story, even his fingers had long ceased their mindless strokes. Alucard felt a little deflated. What else could he do, he wondered. What would get through? Did anything he shared have any impact, positive or negative?
Please talk to me, Trevor... Please say something. If you can't say something, than please at least give me some sign. Anything at all...
“I will leave these by the bedside table if you'd like to look at your children again. If you want me to tell you more stories about them, I would be happy to share what I remember. ” He murmured, defeated by the deafening silence. Perhaps another night they would try again. “If you need me I will be working in my office, all right? Just come knock. You don't need to say anything, we'll figure it out.”
As he got up to leave Trevor to his chosen coping mechanism and return to his haven of work, he caught from the corner of his eye the Hunter take a single sip of the water.
It wasn't much, but it was enough for now.
*****
The Dhampyre was not suited to being a nursemaid. His dedicated care and attention were never in question, assured he was in his abilities to play nursemaid. The task was terribly draining for him, however. How Lisa Ţepeş had segregated herself from her charges he'd never understand or master. The anguish and suffering he watched play out before him seeped into his bones, and hummed through his veins. There was no room for his own ails at this time, however. He was busy keeping every chip and crack in place for Trevor, for as long as the Hunter needed him to fulfill that promise. Privately, alone in his office, he could admit it was hard. So hard. So little food and water was going into that frail body. So little sleep was had. So much worry and fretting on his part, masked by a calm loving façade, met with the Hunter's deathly silence. Physically, he could be mistaken for a wraith. Pale. No longer lithe and athletic, but bony and starved. Intentionally starved. He looked like death. There was no way to mince words or put it kindly. He looked ready to climb in the grave at any fleeting moment.
Yoko had a lead. Alucard agreed with Julius, that she had been contacted by either the High Priestess, or one of her upper echelon sisters. They were on standby waiting for some word from this mass-murdering Witch. From the identified hunters she had murdered, background checks had shown all of them, even the two on government payroll, were currently or formally under investigation for various criminal deeds. Some more heinous than others. These mostly mercenaries had rap sheets spanning decades in some cases. Dropped charges of brutality initially filed by captured Witches, Fey, and Man Beasts. Witness intimidation, also dropped. Two were suspects in the murder of six under-age Arcane users. None old enough to have been registered yet. That investigation seemed to be a cold case now. It was a very curious turn of events, but nothing was proven one way or the other. And monsters or not, brutal barbarians or not, they had been murdered, the lot of them. All painted with the same brush. Some of those Hunter's were for all checks and records could find, clean... Just men doing their jobs until proven otherwise in the court of law.
Joachim had not returned. He'd held the echo mirror in hand daily, willing the Vampyre to come and explain himself and his actions that night in the woods, but the Vampyre was soundly ignoring him. What he received back from the mirror's pulse was what felt like frustration. Which did not make sense at all. Joachim did not get frustrated. He was enraged, or he was malicious, or he was vindictive. He did not sit on frustration long enough for it to be registered in his scent nor aura, he simply acted on it. It seemed the Dhampyre and his friends would get no answer from the Vampyre anytime soon.
Both Yoko's progress and Joachim's dismissal felt like hollow distractions, even though they each directly tied to what he was hunting for; High Priestess and Shadow Monster. They were the whole point he was still here in Japan and not back home with his tribe. But with Trevor how he was... He just could not focus. What did it matter seeking resolution and retribution from this High Priestess if the one who needed it from her wasted away in the other room of his garden home? What good would a Shadow Monster do in captivity? Familiar face or not, nothing held a candle nor could replace the one just beyond his office walls.
Fraught with anxious fears, numerous as they were nebulous, all worst case scenarios that came and went too rapidly to fully distinguish each potential nightmare, Alucard pushed away from his desk and stepped quickly to look in on his bedroom. It was no different than earlier when the same anxiety had him check in. The grey skinned Hunter, sleepless, starved, sitting silently on the bed. He made no show of recognizing Alucard's presence if he did. More soup, cold now, and snacks sat untouched on the bedside table, but water had been consumed. Try as he might, he couldn't see it as enough of a positive sign anymore. It was a drawn out... No.
No, he wouldn't even think it.
Overcome with the stress of the whole situation, he more or less collapsed on the bed before the mute Hunter, and searched his eyes. For the first time in days, they focused on him. Because Alucard looked so distraught, perhaps? There was no other method that seemed to get through to Trevor, to pierce his grim silence, than to make noise of his own. To show and vocalize his pain. But it wasn't supposed to be about him... Trevor needed him to keep it together for them both... It... He just... Somehow, he was going to have to keep them together until they got through it. Until it was bearable...
Trevor's glazed eyes cleared and Alucard would swear it was not delusional desperation that made him see a flash of empathy in those cobalt windows. The Hunter reached out to the table and downed the entire glass of water. Climbing out of bed without any prodding or pulling from the Dhampyre, he carried the cold cup-o-soup into the washroom and closed the door. Minutes later the shower was running. Alucard barely had time to sit in bewilderment, afraid to hope for any more positives, before a freshly cleaned Hunter carrying a mostly empty soup container returned. He watched the frail looking man discard the soup on the table and then a nude body was leaning over him, pushing him back so as to make room straddling one of his thighs.
Automatically Alucard reached out to embrace him. So awfully light. So awfully small. Years of lean natural muscle built up the only saving grace from being considered skeletal. Joachim was full of shit. He didn't like this at all. Loved the man. Hated what was becoming of him.
Trevor wasn't satisfied to just be held. With a reserve of strength pulled from heavens knew where, he pulled Alucard out from under him and shoved him down against the pillows, falling over him like he was the predator between the two of them. What came next was not hunger, but tenderness. The soft gentle kisses were apologetic. Slow, drawn out, and savoured. The Dhampyre's tears were wipes away as they fell, the kisses never broken even when his voice hitched a time or two. The novelty was not lost... He was being comforted again when he was the one who should be doing the comforting. He rolled them over, settling Trevor as delicately as he would a Fabergé Egg, and slipping them between the covers if only for the heightened sense of intimacy. Cozy and in place, he lowered over the man to resume their gentle dance, neither in a hurry, and with no destination in mind. Soft sweet kisses worth more than gold.
Hands were in his hair, his hands were in Trevor's. Hands were run along his body, Trevor's body, but who could tell up from down, left from right? Not so long as their kisses shared, hot, wet, and passionate. Alucard wanted to tell the man he loved him, but he could not bear to hear silence in return, so he held his own tongue. There were other ways. Let them both show, not tell their love. Heavy petting spoke volumes about adoration and desire. Tender kisses of fealty and joined hearts. A red string of fate tangled them more with each passing day, but the Dhampyre welcomed the bonds that tied them tighter still. He would not care to be strangled by it in the end.
Those smaller hands were pulling at him suddenly, to break their duel of lips. He was guided to the curvature of the Hunter's neck, and followed his love's wishes. The flesh there was teased, lapped at, caressed and more. He raked his fangs across the terrain, nipping playfully here and there as his anxiety made way for exuberance. The only thing missing were the needy little moans Trevor should have been making. His breath was quick, eyes lidded, and lips parted. But even in the throes of passion he would not bless Alucard with the sound of his voice. It was all right, the Dhampyre told himself. He would just have to try harder to make the canary sing. And if not this time, then the next for sure. Trevor had told him so... So long as they were together, they would make it all right. Repeating the mantra over in his mind, his fangs breached and his body stilled, letting the Hunter grab at him in pleasure and need. Hunger finally making an appearance, his own need had him working himself free between them, seizing and pushing the hunter's knees up to his chest, and sliding into the heat of the waiting body beneath his own. Unlike the Hunter's first time, no apprehension or fear was found. Fangs and cock fully penetrated, the Hunter threw his arms around Alucard's neck and surrendered completely.
The honeyed blood trickling across his tongue drove him to animality. No longer tender, he thrust months of stress and anxiety into the body pressed into the mattress below him. Centuries of heartache, pounded into innocent flesh. Seeking to carve out a place within Trevor that only he would be able to satisfy, if only to make the Hunter his and his alone. He'd lived eight hundred years already, and in all that time there was no one else who'd ever possessed him the way Trevor Belmont did, and no one else he'd ever want to devour in such a fashion. Only you. You're the only one I will ever want. You are the only one I will ever need. He felt the body against his shudder with release, but it wasn't enough. To tame this creature once and for all, he needed to make Trevor scream his name. The shuddering was more intense when next it struck. The flesh on his shoulders and back slashed at by the Hunter's completely overgrown nails - claws even, you could call them - as he grasped at anything he could use to brace against under the pleasurable assault. The Dhampyre caught those wrists and forced them down above the Hunter's head. He didn't want the brunette to have that outlet. He wanted the Hunter to sing, so he sought to leave him no other release but to utilize his voice, yet still was only rewarded with another silent shuddering release.
With a spark of clarity slicing through the hungry frenzy, the entire moment came into sharp focus; their positions, his preceding actions, and the forceful dominance currently being perpetuated. His Hunter was being restrained, wrists captured and a leg pressed down firmly against his chest, preventing the brunette from escaping and without a voice to tell the Dhampyre to stop if the Hunter didn't want to keep being thrust into without rest, and used up by a demon acting with little regard but for it's own wants and ego. To what end? Did he really think he could force the sound of Trevor's timbre from out the hurting fragile Hunter? If he could, what right did he have to tear it unwillingly, so cruelly, from it's owner? None at all. He had no right. If Trevor's voice was still inside, it was his duty to maintain a nurturing safe space in which the Hunter could be free to find it. Not this... Selfishness. This greedy demonic hunger.
Beyond apologetic himself, he released those reddening wrists and eased that captured thigh more comfortably by his hips. Wholly contrite, his arms curled under the Hunter's shoulders to lift him into the first of many repentant kisses. Maddeningly frenetic thrusts, guided by the overbearing need to control, relaxed into a more easy, undemanding pace. With a rueful exhalation, his lips brushed the velvet gates to his own personal paradise. “How can I apologize, Trevor?” A question he repeated between kisses, along the Hunter's neck, into his chestnut locks, and between their shared breaths. “I have been so afraid of losing you.” Apologies continued to spill into their shared space. “This isn't at all how I wanted it to be like... I want to belong to you as much as I want you to forever be mine. Not this... To be so rough... You are a treasure, Trevor, and I have been such a... a demon about how I am treating you.”
Callused hands slid into place on either side of his face. Trevor was pulling him into another of those chaste kisses, long legs hooking around his hips and urging him to carry on with his wicked deeds. Forgiveness and permission freely granted, the Dhampyre still chose to maintain their current considerate pace, bringing the Hunter slowly to his fourth shuddering drawn-out release of the eve. His own filled the body he still pressed deep inside of. Planting what he thought to be the final chaste kiss, the Dhampyre rolled off the fragile frame he'd enveloped and near devoured for the better part of an hour, sitting up against the headboard to both catch his breath and establish a more firm sense of self-control.
The Hunter followed his lead after some time, seemingly needing to catch his own breath, falling into place shoulder to shoulder against him. Still woefully silent, cobalt eyes looked into his yellow searching for something Alucard could not quite discern.
“Are you all right?” He inquired with a hand outward turned.
Trevor placed his own smaller one inside Alucard's hand, and the Dhampyre grinned, relieved. Connection maintained through their clasped hands, the Hunter next leaned over him, head lowering until it found his softening member to slowly tease back into life. A wet moan escaping his pale lips, he leaned back to allow the brunette room, as well as watch him curl into his lap. Quiet creature content to run his tongue along what he found, and capture it between his flushed pout. Clawed free hand could only run the length of Trevor's body, so easy to do with how close he lay, threading his hair and cupping his face as the fancy struck him. Every physical way he could fathom to show the brunette his love and appreciation, he expressed in his touch, and each and every time those pale blue eyes met his own, his pleasure skyrocketed. Flush features, a loving lidded gaze and pink lips, all beheld while his cock slip between that wet heat again and again. Of course it was too much to contain.
The Hunter drank him all down, coming off his flesh only to lay his head along his thigh, hand still stroking and toying with his prize. Those heavenly cobalt eyes had only sights for the organ the Hunter played with. On the Dhampyre's part, it felt perfectly permissible to simply allow the brunette the freedom to play, leaning his full weight against the pillows and petting the Hunter as fondly in return. Such soft fondling was more than pleasant, giving a sense on the receiving end that he was being equally cherished and beholden. “...I love you too.” Affirmation lightly gasped, a small shiver of ecstasy climbed his spine from the playful ministrations.
Together, they sat in intimate silence until the Hunter's weary body slipped into the blackness of sleep, hands still closed around both Alucard's free hand, as well as his sex. The Dhampyre had no desire to break their connection or to remove Trevor from where the man had chosen to lay. It was an easy to choice to make, to lay down where he was, completing the circle and rest his head in on the Hunter's thighs. Sleep came even easier, and he woke an ambiguous time later feeling calmed in both his mind and body. He was comfortably oriented in his bed with the covers drawn up. The refuse and empty glasses on his night stand had been cleaned and the Hunter sat by his side, presumably having watched him sleep.
Dressed now in only in a pair of socks and one of Alucard's teeshirts, oversized for his lithe frame, it fell like a short nightdress. The sight drew the Dhampyre's hands to move unbidden, caressing their way up bare skin until they met the hem of the borrowed garment. How exquisitely erotic a vision Trevor was to behold in such domesticity. That this could be the sight he viewed every morning as they climbed into bed together in their new life lit a fire inside him anew, but he resolved to control the urge to act on his impulses. It was better to allow the brunette a chance to gather his strength after their earlier tryst, as starved and weak as he was. Like Missy from HQ, often it was just enough to admire from a distance, so with a little squeeze of a thigh, he removed his hands and climbed out from the covers to sit alongside the Hunter. They shared another small intimate smile between them before Trevor was leaning in to press another of those chaste little kisses to his lips. The Dhampyre finally realizing they were a quiet I love you that spoke louder than words.
Before he could be overwhelmed with what Joachim had derided as syrupy and sappy emotions, Trevor was also pressing something into his hands. When the brunette pulled away, his phone was resting in his palm. The phone he'd turned off just prior to donning Lisa Țepeș' hat, and had succinctly forgotten to turn back on later, too preoccupied and distraught with caring for the frail Hunter. “Thank you, Trevor.” He smiled again, this one sheepish. “You are quite correct, it is high time I checked on my other friends, as well.” Small electronic illuminating back into life, a comical cacophony of various vibrations signalling texts, emails, voicemails, and appointment reminders, his whole life that had been put on the back-burner during this latest trial, ushered back via the glow of a rectangle. “I wasn't aware I was so popular...” He stated with mild surprise.
A quick purview told him the bulk of the messages were from 60/40 Yoko Belnades versus everyone else. The last of her messages received read simply 'OMW'. A fast scroll through her preceding texts told him the sorceress had been growing increasingly concerned for her Moroi partner and his uhh... Boytoy. She very likely had already roped Julius into coming with her, and quite possibly even Hammer. “I guess we better get dressed, hmm? Company is coming over.” The Hunter blinked silently at him for a measured moment, but gave a small nod once it had passed, leaving Alucard to shower swiftly and change into plain casual wear. Simple pullover and denim donned, he exited the bedroom to open up his office for receiving guests.
Trevor had decided to keep to his borrowed teeshirt, lounging haphazardly across the unmade bed with a collection of items he'd foraged. He'd found where Alucard had stored his gifted weapons made of the eye catching hydra pelt and had them fanned out in display to one side. On his other, he'd pulled choice sketches of friends and family, loved ones long since passed, and fanned them out as well to study. The Dhampyre watched him quietly from the entrance, making note of how subdued and serious the expression was drawn across that gaunt face. A penny for your thoughts, Trevor... If only the Hunter could tell him what was on his mind.
The Dhampyre left him to it, whatever it was the Hunter was doing, although that apprehensive ball of nerves made an unwelcome return to the pit of his stomach. A stray scent wafted out of the room before he'd fully turned, halting him in place. There was something... unsettling about it. He couldn't pinpoint the individual notes in the mix for certain, but the scent unsettled Alucard greatly. There was a sense of resignation to it, and Alucard felt alarms sounding from his synapses in the distance. A warning call, without clear reason, that he could only acknowledge and accept.
If good sense was to be permitted in the matter, in the memory of their tender lovemaking – after his loss of control was mitigated – there had been a pure unbroken connection... The ghost of Trevor's touch could still be felt firing his flesh. What should he believe then? What his tortured mind fancied or what his flesh and heart had felt? Faith restored, he pushed his nervous energy back down. Alucard trusted Trevor Belmont, and Trevor had said that they would make all of this all right in the end so long as they faced it together. After all, the Hunter had already found his way back to the place where he loved Alucard, no matter what. Proof had been pressed into his lips with each chaste kiss. Why should the Dhampyre fear that the other promise would not hold true? With a lingering look over his shoulder at the waifish marred beauty, he left the Hunter to his process, however impenetrable the method or purpose appeared to be form an outsider's perspective, and stepped back into his work-space to await the impending company.
Taking true stock of things for the first time in a long while, he found the time to be nearly an hour passed midnight. Which was not too bad. Not too much of his evening had been wasted sleeping. Which was a humorous thought. A Moroi like himself, actually sleeping. What a luxury he partook in, entreated by the Hunter's calming heartbeat the first time, and lulled by simply his presence all the others. Out of wine, courtesy of Joachim, and without having found the time to restock, he scrounged up a bottle of bourbon out of an unopened corporate gift from some function or other, and sipped while he awaited the other hunters. The wait was not too long for that gentle rapping on his front door. Yoko announcing herself before her copied key jiggled the lock open, aura of her high energy and bubbly personality felt before she was even seen. Julius, of course, on the heels of his little protégé.
“He lives!” Yoko cheered as the Dhampyre leaned in his office door frame to greet her. “Praise be!”
Glass raised in her direction, he repeated. “Praise be.”
The young woman, he summarized with a careful once over, also looked haggard and pale, and even a handful of pounds lighter than she'd carried around just a month ago. It seemed this whole ordeal was taking it's toll on them all, bit by bit. Even so, sorceress breezed through his dwelling lighting up the room by way of simply staying true to herself. Warm grin and hair flip his way, she peeked in on Trevor and disappeared behind the partition. Alucard's ears twitched in their direction instinctively, but he found no cause for concern. She was only giving Hunter a packaged sweet of some kind and asking after his health, apparently already made aware she would need an understanding of pantomime in order to receive her reply.
“All is well?” Julius asked in a low voice, coming to stand before him.
Alucard waved the man inside and followed. “I will not lie, it's been quite trying. However, I believe he's turned a corner, just today.” Julius made a satisfied noise and took a seat, spreading some printed documents out on the coffee table, waiting for Alucard to take a look. Typical of the elder hunter to get straight back to work “What have we here, my friend?”
“A little gift from me to you.” Julius replied with a chuckle, which raised his curiosity. The documents appeared to be a print-out of a Latin encyclopedic article and subsequent English translation. “Have you ever read the Belmont Bestiary's entry on Dhampyres?” Julius continued when he shook his head no. “See, I figured you had not because I've noticed retroactively after these past few months that, as much as you very clearly adore our little friend in the other room, you seem to step around a lot of things you think are his. Eight hundred years and you still haven't picked up the French language, for instance? I have never seen you wear white, brown, beige or grey but I've noticed Trevor's wardrobe seems to consist of nothing but. You have some of his journals but I'll bet you've never read them, have you.”
“I have not. You may be onto something, Julius.” The Dhampyre admitted after some thought.
“Sometimes I'm pretty good at my job.” The elder brunette self-congratulated. “So following that line of thinking, I was correct to assume you hadn't read his work on your species. I got Missy to send me a print-out of the original Latin for you to read. A lot of it is strictly scientific observation. Every Belmont has their own way of tweaking the Bestiary, addendums, and their own 'voice' shall we say. So Trevor Belmont's got a few he crafted, and he had a habit of putting a little summary of his thoughts and feelings about his personal encounters with the subjects he wrote about.”
“I...see.”
Julius placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, giving him a little shake of encouragement. “Don't worry, you'll like it. As I was saying, it's written in Latin, but everything in the personal summary is kind of a double entendre or heavily variant depending on context. What I have translated in my tablet and what's in most usage out in the records for the Church and affiliates is what is considered and so-called the 'proper translation'. What I had Missy send me to print-out as well was what, in-house, we jokingly call the 'thirsty translation'.” Here Julius paused to hand the documents hastily stapled together to him, and flipped to the paragraph with a highlighter mark beside it. “I thought you would like to know that Trevor wrote an open love letter to you in our Belmont Bestiary. For every Belmont who came after him, for all time to read and hopefully convince to love you just as much as he does.”
Alucard didn't know what to say. “You're... kidding, right?” He scanned the paragraph, but it was hard to focus. Julius did appear to be telling him the truth, if what was in his hands were real. “This day just keeps getting better.” He murmured, knowing a rosy flush was creeping into his features.
“Was pretty sure you'd like having your ego stroked that way.” Julius said with a laugh.
“I really do.” The Dhampyre replied in earnest. “I like being stroked all kinds of ways, but my ego is one of my favourite. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Julius.”
“Jules, you were supposed to wait for me.” Yoko complained from the doorway. “I wanted to see his face when he found out there was a sexy version on him.” With a huff she walked over to stand across the table from them peering at Alucard with a mischievous smirk. “Aww, you're blushing, Al. How cute!”
“I am adorable.” He agreed, much to her delight. “How was the author of this declaration of love, in your opinion, when you spoke?”
“Spoke is one way of putting it.” Yoko scoffed with a toss of her head. “It is my firm opinion that the love of your life is in dire need of like ten double-cheeseburgers stat. I told him we're getting milkshakes the next time I swing by. But if you were asking my opinion on his emotional state, he still seems very... Grim. I mean, I super get it. You don't expect to wake up one day six hundred years later than you remember going to sleep. It's only been like three weeks give or take. Can't imagine you just get over it.”
“Hmm... To the contrary, I found him much improved.” Alucard made a conscious effort not to chew his mangled lip further. “Perhaps because I have seen him at this new depth of rock bottom.” With a long intake of breath, Alucard sighed heavily. It was not a problem that would be solved any time soon, so might as well get on with business. “I imagine you've come by with news of our Hunt?”
“No.” The two humans answered in unison, though only Julius continued.”There is nothing from the High Priestess, and no way in hell is it a good idea for Yoko to be inviting herself into the Coven at the junction. We'll blow our only solid in-road just as we got it. That's still on a wait and see. We're just here to see you, check how you're doing... You know, all that best buddy stuff?”
“Really? I... I appreciate it.” The Dhampyre stammered.
“Why do you always sound so suspicious when people are nice to you?” Yoko blurted out quite suddenly.
The question took him by surprise, causing him to take a minute to even think of a reply. “I suppose that would be because people are normally only nice to me when they have an agenda. We're on a world stage at a summit or behind closed doors where lots of money is on the table.” He offered as some suggestions. “My mother was the only nice human to me for the first two hundred years of my life.”
“Quit living in the past, you dork. We're your friends and we love you.” The sorceress shot back. “You're never going to bridge the gap between demons and humans with that attitude.”
“How easily she criticizes my life's work.” Alucard turned to Julius to say. “She thinks it's easy to stand in front of a room full of people who are terrified of you and kindly ask them to be less so. As well to then return to your brethren and tell them, sorry, not today. We're still too scary for polite society.”
“Well, not with that attitude.” Julius joked back, giving in a moment later once he'd collected himself. “All right, all right. I'm sorry. Really.” The elder hunter clapped him on the shoulder. “We really did just swing by to check on you and share the thirsty translation of the Belmont Bestiary. Perhaps also to use your kitchen and make some dinner? We might be able to coax your skinny loverboy to come eat something with substance? By Yoko's impression, the soup diet isn't doing him any favours.”
“I won't say no to the effort.” Alucard surrendered easily. His ears twitched once more in the bedroom's direction, but all there was to be heard was the Hunter closing the washroom door, followed by the trickle of the sink's faucet. “Or no to trying what you make. The last time it was pretty good.”
“Chef Julius at your service, Sir.” The older man stood to comply, happy to utilize the spacious kitchen counters. “I may have missed my calling in life.” He mused, walking away to heed the call. It reminded the Dhampyre how in spite of Sypha preparing most of the meals on their journey long ago, whenever he'd peeked in around dinner time back in Wallachia, his own Hunter had been the primary cook of his own household. Perhaps it was another inherited Belmont trait? “You want to play me some of those piano tunes, like, something jazzy? But not jazz. Just... jazzy.”
“I'll see what I can come up with.” The odd request struck a humorous chord in the Moroi, and he suddenly laughed. “Symphonic jazz now, to go with Trevor's symphonic metal. You Belmonts sure do have odd tastes.” Odd or not, he found his way to the bench before his requested instrument and took a moment to think through the years and ten thousand or more pieces he'd played to blend a sound that may be what Julius was expecting. It was an absorbing task so he didn't really notice Yoko had taken a seat beside him until he'd finalized the composition in his head and reached out to start. “You want to play quattro mani?”
“My third grade music teacher didn't prepare me to keep up with you.” Yoko elbowed him, but remained seated. “Play for Julius. I just wanted to talk to you.”
It was an easy request to grant, so his fingers touched ivory and he raised an eyebrow at her, signalling he was listening. From out the corner of his eye he watched the young woman work through her pitch or whatever she was preparing mentally before she was able to put it to voice.
“I wanted to ask you about your life's work. I wasn't criticizing you earlier.” She began, and he gave her permission to continue when she waited to see if it was an okay topic of discussion. “Well... You told me one visit in the hospital about how you are sort of a peace broker between demons and humans. I was wondering... What does that entail beyond the showy Ambassador stuff? What exactly are you trying to do, boots on the ground?” After a beat, she added. “You can give me the very high-level breakdown if it's too complicated to explain in depths on the spot.”
“High-level breakdown?” He considered her question. “There are communities all over the world filled with outcasts. Harmless arcanists, gentle demons, innocent devils. Most live impoverished lives on the fringes, or in hiding. I am pleading their case. To not be vilified by nature of their very being. I believe these communities should have a open place, and freedom to integrate. My staff and I offer to help with planning for such scenarios. That is as high-level as I can get.”
“...Have you had any success?” Her voice was heavy with conflicted thoughts, betrayed by her scent.
“...Not as much as I would like.” He admitted sadly. “There are some nations who have established protected grounds for demons, much like nature preserves. Swimming tests or public stripping to find Witch marks, as well as Witch burning have been taken off the books virtually everywhere. You're welcome for that one.” He elbowed her back lightly with that quip. “A couple of 'test' communities are living in basically ghettos. There are some governments willing to try allowing Man Beasts to integrate provided they stay as men, and get micro-chipped like you would your dog. This is not exactly an agreeable compromise.”
“What about Witches having to register when they become legal adults by international standards? Was that a compromise you had a hand in?”
“No. That started with your Clan, Yoko, all the way back in the sixteenth century. It was something your forebearers set precedence with when they sought to aid the Church in defending the villages and cities from mindless demonic beasts. It was the Belnades of old who decided it was a fair compromise to ensure they could walk freely amongst mankind.” The Dhampyre had a sense now of why the girl wanted to talk. “You've been online a lot with girls across the globe in your situation, Yoko. I am sure you've heard a lot of talk about the Arcane Rights movement?” The sorceress only smiled forlornly and nodded. “They are not wrong to champion that cause. The concessions your ancestors had to make was made in a different world than the one we have now. Not all traditions need stay tradition. Antiquated laws especially.” With grim finality, he finished. “I have done a lot of demon slaying, and will do a lot more before the world I envision arrives. But I know that violence only begets more violence. I've seen it. I've lived it. The talk some of these witches put on a platform is as dangerous for them as it is for who they see as the perpetrators of their plight. It's dangerous for me and those I protect as well.”
“That is not an argument I will fight.” Yoko sighed. “I guess... I wish I could help. I am a card-carrying Witch from a famous family. Maybe... I don't need the card. Maybe we all don't need the card.”
The Dhampyre took a quiet moment to look her over, as if seeing her for the first time. Prior assessments of her growth were proving more and more correct. Her position and bloodline, her accomplishments and drive... She could very well be the new face of justice for their kind. With some guidance. “Yoko...” He hedged. “If you are serious, when we get back to Romania I can put you in touch with some people who can help you try to help others like yourself. It will be hard work. You'll need to gather all these broad emotions you carry about this subject and drill them down into a simple concise message. You'll have to give speeches, lots of them, and you'll have to stand in rooms filled with people who are terrified of you... Just by nature of how you were born. It's not easy to plead your case to those who fear you. You may also lose your job.”
“For a worthy cause...” The sorceress whispered. With a small return to her usual spirited self, she giggled a little. “You'll just have to keep feeding me if I don't have a day job.”
“I'm not sure Julius is going to like me filching his little protégé.”
“I can do both.” She insisted, and with eyes going wide, she slapped his arm, causing him to press the wrong key on his piano. “You haven't been reading your messages, have you?” She didn't wait for him to confirm he'd been otherwise occupied. “Wild discovery! So get this. My family tree goes all the way back to the Rosa Belnades, right? She was one of the first Church Witches given any office of authority. Her granny was named Luna Belnades. Common Spanish name, yeah? But my mega Great-Grandma had a twin sister! It's in our records. And according to your little drawings I was looking through, Trevor Belmont had two twin daughters, one of whom is named Luna? And I know Luna's mom was Sypha Belnades. It's not in the Church records, but it's in the Belnades archives.” She paused for dramatics, but also to catch her breath. “Sypha, Trevor's second almost-wife? Who else could it be? Al, baby, I am a goddamn direct descended of your boyfriend just like Jules. I'm a fucking Belmont!”
The Dhampyre ceased playing a moment to give her another look over. “You're really a direct line to Luna? I thought your family were the second wave Spanish influx of Belnades after Luna's line established themselves. Your Sisters and yourself have the second wave features.”
“Nope! She's my ultra Great-Grandma. And if she's Trevor's kid, then I am also a Belmont. Direct line to Leon.”
Overcome with mirth, at how contrived and convenient life, although random, sometimes came together, the Dhampyre let out a hearty laugh. “Yoko, can I blow your mind even further?” She readily agreed. “This makes you my step ultra great-granddaughter. I raised Luna Belnades exclusively from ages ten to twenty-four.”
“Get the fuck out!” She squealed. “I've got two new grandpa's now!”
Stoke of genius seizing him, he stood up from the piano and pulled the girl by hand to her feet. “I have a favour to ask of you and Julius. I think it will help Trevor a lot.” Just by mentioning his name, his ears instinctively turned again in the direction of the bedroom. The bathroom door was still closed, and the trickle of water form the tap still heard. Very odd... It had been a long time. Too long. But his mind was overfilled, racing with his plan, so he disregarded the mystery in favour of leading Yoko by hand into the kitchen. “Julius, I need a favour of both of you.” He stated bluntly, interrupting the man measuring out ingredients.
“You got it, Alucard. How can I help you?” The elder hunter offered without question.
“You are both Trevor's grandchildren. I want you to tell him that now. I think it will help him deal with losing his children... knowing that you are both here now because of those children. He adores you both already.”
“You think he's going to want the whip back?” Julius asked in a kidding fashion, but Alucard could tell there was a genuine reluctance in the older man to give up what he'd lost so much for.
To assuage the elder man's fears, Alucard shook his head. “He never wanted that whip. He'll be happy to know it's been passed on. To his grandchild, no less.”
“All right. You in, Yoko?”
“Obviously. I am going to take so many family pics of all four of us, my new cousin. He owes me like twenty-six years worth of birthday gifts.” She turned sharply to Alucard. “Step Grandpa! You super owe me too.”
Relieved and elated, the Dhampyre nodded. “Thank you so much. I really believe it will make a difference.” Ear trained to the washroom, the tap still trickled. It sounded like a soothing summer stream. Alucard glanced at his phone, it was half passed two AM. “As soon as he gets out of the bathroom then... He's been in there for over an hour.
Julius ceased measuring out spices and gave him a stern look. “The guy whose not eating food, not leaving bed, and just got back from two weeks wandering the woods with a Vampyre in a fugue state is locked in your bathroom?” The elder hunter quirked an eyebrow and placed his utensils down. “And you are not concerned about that?”
“Well, I...” The Dhampyre inhaled deeply to calm his nerves but there was something in the air. Something that caused his alarm bells to sound once more. “...I...” He inhaled again, this time with focus. “...I am smelling... blood.” Yoko and Julius moved with him, all three rushed for the washroom door but it was the Dhampyre who stopped just before it. His hands and feet would not move. The smell of blood was strong... so strong. How had he not noticed earlier? His mind shut. Nothing else would process. “...I can't. I don't want to.” He confessed in a small voice.
“Then allow me.” Yoko pushed passed him and threw open the door.
As if passively watching a scene of movie playing in a different room, he saw Yoko gasp, reaching to rip a hand towel off the wall and disappear beyond his scope. Julius followed hot on her heels, assessing the situation and digging for more towels. The two carried a limp body out into the open space on the tile floor, blood staining all down one side of an oversized teeshirt. His friend's were trying to shake the body awake, holding pressure and towels to a long gaping wound down a thin arm.
Alucard watched this passively, as if only a scene from a dream.
It couldn't be real after all. The ghost of Trevor's touch was still imprinted all over his body. He could feel the fingers that had combed his hair still tangled in his tresses. Smooth thighs sliding around and in between his own. The heat he'd sunk his flesh into. The flesh his fangs had penetrated. He could still feel those soft velvet lips pressing against his own, again and again.
Each one a wordless declaration of love.
Why would Trevor have done that if he was going to do something so foolish like this? Why would he have taken the time and effort in his suffering to make Alucard feel cherished and loved if he was just going to... leave?
Those chaste kisses he could still feel.
Was each really a silent I love you..? Or had they been...
...Silent goodbyes?
Chapter 32: Pride and the Fall
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
October 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Voices were calling his name, shouting commands and pleading for assistance. None of it made sense nor could touch him. Yellow eyes studied the still frail body on the floor, no longer was it being shaken or it's wounds being tended to. It was so quiet. Just as it had been when alive only an hour earlier, yet more so. It simply lay still. Death was a stillness like no other. This was truth. So true, was how fast change could come crashing in. Only a short hour to have one's world cease to make any logical sense. One moment there is hope and love and purpose. Then stillness. Emptiness. That happened often in a lifetime, and his was a very long lifetime. So many moments like this had come and passed, but this one... This one he could feel whiting out all the others. This one was going to be his last.
Autonomous and beyond his ability to rationalize, his feet turned him away from the sight. Carried him back into the familiarity of his office, hands searching for and finding what his alien body had sought beyond conscious choice. The grisly scene taking place in his washroom was returned to, ornate wooden box in hand, no larger than a hardcover encylopedia. The warm living bodies in his way were easily pushed aside as he knelt before the still one. This was the it. The last one he would suffer watching grow still forever, leaving him to carry all his burdens alone. Often, things just happened, but occasionally, fate must play it's hand, right? Perhaps fate brought them here so they could leave together. It was fine if true. It was fine if not. Nothing was going to matter one way or the other in just a few minutes.
His hand reached out to caress the still face, the other reaching back to slide the ornate box closer. The latch was easy to find, he'd opened this box countless times through the centuries in moments of weakness similar to where he found himself now. However, this time was the only moment in a sea of them where he'd open it with clear intent. His hand found one of two oaken stakes that lay inside, capped with silver in an intricate archaic design. Glyphs and angelic scribe coiling around the spike, ensuring a holy end to the demon heart it would sunder. Small hands were pulling on his arm but those too were easy to shrug away. The time was now. That perfect still visage. What better a view could his eyes rest on? What other final vision could there be for Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș?
Stronger hands were grabbing at him, trying to pull him away, along with those smaller ones returning to tug on the oaken stake. The Dhampyre didn't want any more violence at his chosen end. He wanted peace. He wanted to let go... Why couldn't the ties holding him to this realm simply allow him to slip free? This wasn't how he imagined it at all. Why did they insist on bringing him to anger? This was his choice. He was not going to live another day passed Trevor Belmont. The pleading hands would not let him go, no matter how much he broke their grip or twisted away. It was no desire to have his final act be one of violence, but with little choice, that too was a choice he made. He'd only hope they'd forgive him for it one day.
Ready to do violence, he stilled to gather the energy.
...Then stillness broke.
The quiet body before them sputtered, hacking spittle, lungs drawing in ragged struggling breaths. The dead body, no longer could be described as such... Breath after painful forceful breath was pulled out of the frail being, eyes blown wide with confusion, disbelief, and despair. Just as had happened back in a cave in the Sea of Trees, the dead returned to the living. The pair of concerned hands were no longer on the Dhampyre but on the living breathing body fighting for survival, clawing it's way tooth and nail back from the brink. The noise and flurry around him was deafening. Humans calling the name of another, pressure reapplied to a once again bleeding grievous wound.
There was recognition in those grey-blue eyes. The body looked at each face around it, and settled on his. The despair in those eyes. The shame. The utter guilt.
The spell was broken.
Alucard cast away his serene acceptance of fate and stepped into righteous white hot fury. Teeth bared, claws found cotton, wrenching the teeshirt in his fists until he'd enough purchase to lift and slam the Hunter into the wall. The snarl was animalistic. His eyes were crimson. He felt the heat of their glow on his own eyelids with each blink. Not from hunger. From pure unadulterated rage. “You liar.” A seething voice he hardly recognized as his own was hissing. “You lied to me.” Hands slammed the body into the wall again to punctuate. “You haven't taken your advise at all. Our loved ones wouldn't want us to mourn them ceaselessly? Just remember them how they were in good health and good times and move on for their memory's sake?” Blood splattered up the wall with his next violent punctuated slam. “Everything will be all right? And even if it is not, we will make it if all right, then at least bearable? So long as we are together?” The lithe body was twisting in his grip, pushing against him to escape, but he was not finished with it. The struggle brought them back to the floor but his strength for once in their scuffles miraculously won out. He pinned the body and sneered down at it. “You liar. You were leaving me to all of this. Well for once in your fucking life, Trevor Belmont, you are not going to get your way with me. You want out of this? Fine!” Voice near roaring, his hands found the oaken stake, the box, the whole kit. He forced one of the stakes into Trevor's hands and pulled the man up. In his other hand he held his own. It didn't take much, his hand over Trevor's around the stake to get it in place for the final plunge. “It's fine!” He repeated. “But you will do me the courtesy of taking me with you this time. I'll make sure you follow before I am dead.” His own oaken stake was held firmly against Trevor's heart. The Hunter's head was shaking, the hand under his own around the stake trying to break free. Alucard would not allow it. “Don't be afraid. I'm not afraid to die by your hand. I'll help you, Trevor. I'll always be here to help you, right up to the end. Which is now.” Sharp tug pierced his flesh, breaching the skin and puncturing into muscle. The strength of the Hunter resisting him stopped his final act.
Trevor Belmont and his inhuman blasted strength, was holding him back from staking his own heart. The Hunter's cowed bewilderment broke, and now he wanted to fight back. Fear and panic overwhelming his scent, how he managed, minutes from returning from death's grasp, the Dhampyre would never know. The stakes were knocked aside, arms and legs wrestling for control, for the upper ground, for dear life it seemed. Fists and claws got into the mix, slashes and bruising blows flying from both combatants. The sink was smashed, enamel and tempered glass shattering in the now spurting water. The Dhampyre's rage consumed all thought. This impertinent boy. This coward. Refusing to follow through? Refusing to take responsibility of his actions? For his false hopes and bitter lies? For stringing Alucard along so painfully when he knew this was the finishing line? Refusing the one he loved the dignity of a shared death? Having the utter gall to try and force him into submission! How dare he? How fucking dare he!?
Aggravatingly, his wrist was caught and twisted, his other as well as he tried to force his way out of the hold. Trevor, waifish, frail, minutes from returning from death's embrace, leaped over him. His arms were pulled in a crisscross embrace around his own torso, held in place by Trevor whose iron grip must have looked not unlike a lovers embrace if seen in any other context. The current context left him furious. The snarl that came out sounded like his Father's voice, but his tantrum did nothing to dissuade the Hunter's sudden resolve for life. Then, with a final, brutal kick to the back of his knee, bringing him to heel and cutting up his kneecaps on the shattered glass, the Hunter stood over him, breathing hard, hugging him and his hands protectively tight against their bodies. As if to protect the Dhampyre from himself. The Suicidal Hunter? Thought to protect the Dhampyre!?
Impossibly strong, the brunette leaned over his kneeling form, lips by his ears and gave a single command. A hiss made of air, yet louder than any scream or yell.
“Stop.”
The lost voice returned for that single word. Tears were falling before he could register the bittersweet relief. Just one word... that had been all he'd begged and prayed for. To hear just one more word out of Trevor's mouth. The fight... the anger... Gone. The sorrow, the hurt and the betrayal... He shook his head futilely. Nothing would stop his tears. Trevor had lied to him... And now what? Would nothing ever be all right? Were there ever going to be cozy mornings with tea and a good book, curled together in a chair by the window? Were there ever going to be quiet moments, Trevor wearing Alucard's shirts and socks, giving him small smiles, happy in domesticity? Were there never to be a hand-fasting ceremony and subsequent marital games, the Hunter allowing him to play dress up with his life-sized pretty porcelain doll? Was there never going to be a pleasure journey hand-in-hand around the world or a house to go home to in the mountains? Was this trauma loop all there would be waiting for them? Just one damaged man hurting the other, trading places on who got to be the victim that week? They couldn't even die together, as simple a solution as it could be. What kind of life was the alternative?
Trevor's iron hold eased off, and then the frail pale thing behind him was turning him around, reaching for one of the many discarded towels to staunch the bleeding of the puncture in his chest. Grey-blue eyes fixed him in place. The guilt was heavy in them, as was the sorrow. A pale hand was trying to smooth his tangled hair, stroke his face. The hand that hurt him, now trying to comfort. He didn't want it or deserve it, and Trevor had no right to offer to begin with. The Dhampyre withdrew, leaving the Hunter on the floor, surrounded in shattered enamel and blood smears. He pushed passed Yoko and Julius but could hardly make it passed the bedroom, collapsing instead against the partition wall near the chabudai. Blood soaked his shirt, his kneecaps, and his vision. Trevor's overgrown nails... claws, to be honest... having slashed open his temple. Knees drawn to his chest, and arms wrapped around them, there he wept silently until nothing else would fall. His eyes burned, but remained dry. Chest hurt, but hitched no more. Alucard was empty. Still.
Yoko must have called for aid as Hammer rushed by him at some point. He shut the noise of their commotion out. Or tried to. Not long after the vet's arrival, Julius was getting down on the ground with him. The elder hunter said nothing, but proceeded to cut open his bloodied pant legs and pull glass and enamel shards from his flesh with a pair of tweezers. Shards from his hands, his shoulders and his hair all followed. Gentle precision from faintly wrinkled hands, his wounds were cleaned and bandaged, and with a final once-over looking for any missed nicks and cuts, Julius nodded satisfactorily. Not finished with his sympathy, the older brunette crawled over to his side and placed his arms gently around, pulling the Dhampyre down to lay against his chest and rocked him slowly.
With a small soft whisper, Julius made him a promise, and a plea. “This too shall pass. So please stay with us.”
Alucard didn't know what to believe, so he just closed his eyes.
He chased blackness, and caught it.
*****
Yoko truly believed she was doing her absolute best to not freak out. Her voice and hands were steady as she handed Hammer what he asked for, and let a slew of assurances and promises fall from her lips in an effort to sooth her weakened, shaken, Great-Grandpa. Her tapered fingers held a gaping wound's ends in place as Hammer applied Steri-Strips with a breezy ease, as if she did that kind of thing everyday. No big deal. She cleaned glass out of matted bloody hair so that her army man could clean and bandage in her wake. She fetched an ice pack for a nastily bruised cheekbone. She fetched a broom, a mop, and a toolkit for Hammer to turn off the water leaking from the busted sink and clear away the shattered remnants. She half carried, half walked an unsteady man out of harms way and wrapped him tightly in the duvet she'd tore off the bed. Needing Julius' guidance and soothing presence, she lead the blanket burrito out into the living room and lowered them both near the elder Belmont.
Julius was gently rocking their friend in his arms. An act of tenderness of a kind she wasn't used to seeing out of the gruff serious hunter. Then again, it wasn't every day your longtime friend and ally tried to enter a suicide pact with his anachronistic lover. That was for special occasions only, right? So she followed in kind, pulling Trevor to her breast to rock in a similar fashion. Like the Dhampyre, her tragic ancestor eventually closed his eyes without making a single sound. She kept rocking... Finding it was a self-soothing motion as well. Duty fulfilled as a temp caregiver, she could use a helluva lot of soothing. The two sat in silence until eventually Hammer joined them, slipping between each Julius and Yoko, and their subsequent charges.
Hammer lifted Trevor's bundled legs over his own to better fit against her. His warm solid presence a balm for her frazzled nerves. She leaned into his embrace gratefully. And like a true bro, with one look at Julius and his broken bundle of Moroi, pulled that lot over to lean against his other side, arm curled in support around the elder man. For a long while, they all just sat there, group-hugging it out because really, what the hell else could they do?
It was Yoko, to thy own self be true, who was the first to break the moratorium on sound. “Jules, I'm not sure how much more of the drama llama I can take with these two. They legitimately almost killed each other tonight.”
“Yours killed himself.” Julius corrected in a tired voice. “Mine just tried to go along for the ride.”
“Julius...” The sorceress swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. Afraid to let her mentor down, but unable to keep it to herself any longer. “I want to go home. Fuck this whole thing. Iron Liza is going to call us back any day now, expecting a summary of the Castle and the Eclipse. When she does, I think we should just pack up and go. I think we should try to convince Alucard to as well for his clear and very needed benefit and mental health. 'Dhampyre this' or 'Dhampyre that' me all you want, he's still half human, and this is obviously too much for him to handle. He's fucking lost the plot, and he needs help. We should take the kid back to Wallachia and leave him at the Church. It's probably the best place for him and his issues as well. Impartial space and people to work through what he needs to work through.”
“That's my Grandfather you're talking about dropping off like an unwanted puppy at the pound.” The older man huffed a with a tired laugh. After a moment's consideration he added. “You should go home, Yoko. I think you've more than earned it.” There was no argument given, Julius simply accepted her wishes. “I'll schedule a long overdue vacation and stay on for as long as I can get away with. I don't really want to leave... and permit me to quote another Belmont... My one and only Dhampyre in this state. I'm not sure he will agree to just drop this, and I am with you on your assessment of his mental state. This is too much for him momentarily, and he needs a good friend to weather through it with him. I think I may be able to convince him it's best for Trevor to be somewhere impartial and away from any triggers... But to be honest, Yoko, I think you are wrong about Gramps over there. If he could talk, I think Trevor would tell you he's ready to live.”
“About that... So, uhh... Just to get this straight.” Hammer piped up from between them, clear he'd been trying to ask for some clarity but unsure when was appropriate to butt in. “You're pretty sure Napoleon was dead. And this is the second time he's come back from the seeming dead? Just like when he was found in the Murder-Suicide forest cave?” Yoko nodded and Hammer made a contemplative noise. Brown eyes studied the brown head poking out of the blanket burrito sombrely. “Poor kid... Well, Grandpa, I guess. Hmm... I think I missed a cut...” Large hand twisted the sleeping head to examine, but all it lead to was another thoughtful noise. “No... I think that's a tattoo.”
“Tattoo?” Yoko raised an eyebrow. “What kind of fifteenth century Frenchman would have some ink?”
Hammer shrugged as best he could, one arm still around Julius. “This guy, I guess. It's a little red box.”
“Yoko.” Julius started, leaning over Hammer to get a good look, but the sorceress was already on it.
She pulled at the blanket burrito until she could get a good look for herself, and held her breath when she pulled enough chestnut strands of hair to the side to make out that semi-organic boxy pattern. The sight left her utterly gobsmacked. Perhaps even a little pissed off. Hiding in plain sight, it was the same semi-organic boxy one that had been carved into the stones, the alter, and the flesh of the dead hunters the High Priestess had staged for her blood ritual. Yoko's magick probed the area, and a strange resonance fed back into her aura. The mark was not made for her kind of magick, it seemed. It actively rejected her. “This... I think it's a lock. A seal. I also don't believe I have the key.”
“Any ideas on why Trevor Belmont has a lock or seal on him?”
“Just a theory...” She frowned, scrutinizing the brand a mass murdering woman would put on her own goddamn Grandpa. “It's not exactly my forte, but you can prime spells and seal them. Usually this is done in clay discs. Create a bunch ahead of time and seal them and BAM. No energy? No problem. Just break the disc. Insta-Spell!”
Julius' bloodshot cobalt eyes grew dark.“Well I can sense auras but we all know I am no Arcane master, so this is just a theory of my own. But, based on what you are proposing... Not enough energy for your blood ritual... break the Belmont?”
Yoko felt her own features darkening. The possibilities were wide when her gift would not allow her any insight to the spell's components. “I said it's a theory. Not my area of expertise in the slightest. I have never heard of priming a spell in a living body. And no, Jules, I can see the cogs turning in your head. I have no practical or theoretical hypotheses on how priming a spell could seemingly re-animate the dead. That being said, I am not not saying this seal isn't the reason Grandpa is six hundred years old. Maybe this brand is the reason he's still alive, or hard to kill, or perfect for endless blood-letting and rituals? But I really have no idea. We really have no idea who this woman is and what she is capable of.” The sorceress threw up her hands and made a disgruntled and all together unladylike sound.
“That wasn't my train of thought exactly... But it is sure something to consider. Actually, I was just wondering why he's still here. If she gave him her brand, why hasn't she come for him? He seems pretty irreplaceable after all for her blood ritual.” Julius made a pensive noise and thinned his eyes. “More so if you're correct and he's uhh... Primed.”
“It's a theory, Jules... As for why she hasn't come yet, well, her brand is rebuffing my magick, but the symbol is not giving off any energy on it's own. She likely can't use it to track him. It's likely a contained spell on it's own, if it's a spell, because that is just my theory. I would love to run this by my mother. Another point for returning to Wallachia; Mama is hardcore. She'd probably recognize whatever this is.”
Hammer butt in again when he next had an opportunity, with a litany of open ended questions. “Theories aside, what about focusing on the facts? Wasn't there some kind of monster in the woods the last night we camped there? The one that Vampyre kept at bay and then took off before explaining what it was. Would it be a stretch to speculate that the shadow monster was there for Napoleon, maybe? You think the monster from that night is also the familiar you saw in the woods, the scaredy-cat?” Hammer shrugged. “Maybe the Witch doesn't need a spell or a brand to track Napoleon, she's got the familiar to do it for her? It came for him that night but was too spooked by Vampyre. He spooks me, after all.”
“The shadow monster... Lilû. I'm not sure.” Julius hedged, neither running with the idea or shelving it. “Alucard seems to think it was Joachim who was spooked that night.” Julius hummed. “What we saw never attacked, even when Alucard got aggressive on it. What was in the woods a few weeks ago was something seemingly powerful enough it scared a two thousand year old Vampyre. Why would Joachim fear a creature that does not fight back?”
“Have you considered when you three saw it the first time, Trevor Belmont wasn't with you?” Hammer countered with a fair logical point, to which Julius could only concede. “If the Lilû is a smart demon whose lived thousands of years or more, maybe it's very selective in when it attacks. You win all the battles you never fight, right?”
“He is so much trouble.” Julius huffed. “Horribly jinxed. A complete disaster magnet.” Taking a moment to rearrange Alucard in his arms, the elder hunter huffed again. “But I think we need his help in order to get to the bottom of this and test all these theories. Is he essential to her ritual or just was just wrong place wrong time? Is he here because of her, or the Castle, or some other means? Does Shadow Monster have some teeth after all or is it all bark? Would Lilû attack if it was to get Trevor back? I think we need some live bait. Some live Trevor Belmont bait, if we're going to find out what Lilû and it's master have in mind.”
“Need I remind you, that's your Great-Grandpa you're talking about, Jules? Plus I hardly think he's in the position to be of any assistance after what just happened. I know for a fact Al over there isn't in any position to help out, and this whole thing was his pet project to start with! Another point for returning to Wallachia. Can't finish her ritual if we have the branded Belmont keystone sequestered away in a whole ass other country..”
“ Need I remind you, Al over here told us that Gramps is fine with being bait if we thought it would help, for one thing. For another, Alucard will be all right in due time. This is an understandable, but momentary weakness. Trauma conga line was a little too long, that's all. You've not known him long enough to see the true depths of his resilience. He is human, Yoko, like you said. Our spirit and hearts are fire. His burns brighter than any.”
“What if Trevor tries to un-alive himself again?” Yoko muttered the question. “Trevor Belmont seems to have total control over Al. All he's got to do is snap his fingers and who comes running? Alucard! Right to his goddamn grave, if need be.” She gave the blanket burrito an angry shake, and was only a little bit ashamed to have jostled an injured man. Why and how was such an intelligent experienced demi-demon man so okay with being in such a lopsided relationship where one party held all the power? “You think Alucard is going to withstand another suicide attempt from the Tiny Tyrant? I'm not going to watch Trevor twenty-four seven to prevent it. Neither are you. Alucard... I guess could. He doesn't need to sleep. But what kind of life is that? Being another's keeper. Ultimately, it's no different than Trevor being locked up in a dark cave with that Witch cutting him nightly for blood. Comfier accommodations and better food. But still a prisoner. And Alucard a prisoner with him.”
“Trevor won't try again.” Julius stated firmly.
Yoko was just dying to know what made her grumpy old new cousin so smug. “What makes you so sure?”
In a patient tone, Julius rationalized his firm belief and the thought process that lead him to it. “The fact that Trevor could have let Alucard end them both, but he didn't. He fought an armed Dhampyre with his bare fists, while barely clinging onto life, so that he could save both of their lives. And he won. Quitters don't fight, Yoko. You go ahead and ask your Great-Grandpa when he wakes up if he regrets doing what he did. I will bet money he tells you he does. I will double that bet and say not only will he tell you he regrets doing it, but that he wanted to change his mind and take it back after the cut was made. He was just too weak from the blood loss to do anything about it. He's lucky he's spell-sealed or cursed or whatever.”
“All righty then...” Her lips pursed as she studied the young man in her arms, who was the whole reason she and Julius were alive today. She didn't dislike him, this Trevor Belmont. He was funny and sweet and literally the only person she had ever seen give Joachim some grief. He was a hero, straight out of history. There was that adage about never meeting your heroes though, with good reason. Even being fair and acknowledging that they were meeting during what was without a doubt the worst collection of moments in Trevor's life, and she was seeing the worse parts of him amplified by his immense tragedy atop tragedy... The web this completely average man had spun to ensnare her fantastical god-tier powered partner and friend irked Yoko. Was Trevor even aware how much he'd enslaved the Dhampyre? Would it be worse if he was? Alucard talked often about keeping the scales balanced between humans and demons, as if it was his raison d'être. How then could the Dhampyre not see Trevor stacking more weight on his side of the scales in their relationship every time the Moroi's head turned? Or is that a fair assumption? She had to wonder. Maybe she had it all backwards and it was Alucard doing the stacking after all? Alucard giving Trevor all this power over him and pinning all his... everything on a seemingly young man who didn't ask for it? In that line of thinking it was Alucard who'd spun the web that ensnared them both. I wonder Trevor Belmont... If you made that choice thinking you were setting him free? She stared at the smooth features, bruised and cut from a lovers all-out brawl. They didn't betray a thing.
“So what do you want to do about all this tonight, Babe?” Hammer nudged her a little to break her serious and super grim focus. “I'm not opposed to sitting here all night cuddling my besties, but you think Alucard would mind if we took the bed with Napoleon over here?”
“No... I think he owes me a nap in the big bed. Jules, you're on your own.” Yoko announced, shoving her dark thoughts and bad mood temporarily to the side. It was naptime. Yoko had loved naptime ever since she was a kid. It was wasted on children who did not appreciate it. “We can deal with all this stuff tomorrow.”
Julius scoffed and rolled to his feet, the heavy Dhampyre smoothly hauled up into his arms like just another toy baby doll. As if there was no weight to him at all. “I don't need either of you or your big bed. My real bestie and I are going to cuddle real close on the pull-out. You enjoy your spacious accommodations.”
“He's just jelly, babe.” Hammer joked for some levity, and took Trevor off her hands to go tuck the kid in, talking from behind the partition wall. “He knows I'm the cuddliest.”
“That's why I'm with you, Hambone.” Yoko agreed with a laugh. She did throw Julius a bone by pulling out the couch-bed in the office and fetching him a spare blanket and pillow. “Try to have a good night, Jules. We'll sort all this crap out tomorrow.”
“You too, Yoko. Remember you're human too. Heart of fire, yeah?”
“You know it.”
*****
October 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo - The Morning After
Mind and body a void, the Dhampyre rose from the blackness into pre-dawn light. The rosy hues burgeoning into the gold of the coming sunrise. In silence, save the steady snore of the man at his side, he took stock of numerous stinging cuts, abrasions and bruises. Each seemed foreign and distance, as if the pain committed to another body in another time and place far from where he inhabited. While he felt nothing keenly, muscle memory made him stand and take in his surroundings. His office. Quiet, save Julius. Automatically, at the recognition, he bent down to pull the blanket back up around the still sleeping man. It was starting to get damp in the early hours now, and older bones always seemed more sensitive to the damp chill of autumn. Blood was calling him.
He stepped out of the still space into an even darker room. The pillows around the chabudai were scattered and partially missing. The scent of blood was stronger out in this room, but did not emanate from it. There were many pairs of shoes and boots by his entrance-way, so he found his bare feet carrying him to the bedroom. What he found explained it all. Yoko divested of most her clothes save a tanktop and her undergarments curled up against Hammer who was equally stripped to base layers, sharing a throw blanket and stolen living room pillows between them. At their side, rolled in the duvet...
Alucard turned away. From the sight. The scent of blood. He couldn't bear to look at that right now. So he stepped into his washroom to get a better look at the damage. Both to the facility and to his face. The sink was a complete write-off, and after inspection, so was the toilet's reservoir lid. Both smashed to pieces... that were no longer littering the tile. Someone had tidied up. The mirror, while cracked, was serviceable for now. He wasn't a superstitious demon, after all. His reflection... less salvageable. Flesh no longer alabaster but a sickly grey and green, and curls matted and messy, he leaned in to see dark circles under his yellow eyes. He wasn't even aware he could get dark circles. The image displeased him so he did an about-face sharply from it, only to next have his eyes settle on the shower stall.
Breath hitched, his feet found their way against his will to peer into the glass stall. That was where it had happened. Where everything fell apart. Where he learned he'd been lied to. Like a train-wreck, he both did not want to look, but could not stop himself from peering around the frosted glass, surprisingly spared in the all out beat-down that had taken place hours earlier. Inside was the remnants of Trevor's cowardice. His abandonment of Alucard, the person he said he loved. The dry trickled blood circling the drain had no affect on his hunger. That lay dormant. It just made him angry all over again, to know Trevor would rather circle a drain than stand with him in this torrent. The Hunter didn't even need to stand, just cling to him. He'd accept it. He had been ready to hold it all together for both of them in the storm, for as long as he needed to do it.
The rage dissipated once his eyes caught what was around the drain. Around the frosted glass and tile inside. Images from the sketchbooks of the man's family and friends, children he would never know lined the glass. The new journal Alucard had purchased for him opened to the picture of the jewel beetle had been placed as well. One of those woven bookmarks Julius would make in his spare time was placed as well, a gift evidently from the elder hunter unbeknownst to the Dhampyre. The token Sypha had sewn into the man's coat centuries ago was also laid out. The packaged sweet Yoko had handed him... and even all the gear Alucard had made for him from the hydra pelt. Alucard stared at all the little tokens and charms gathered since the man had come to stay with him, all surrounding this one place... the tiny space Trevor had chosen to end it all.
He thought of the trickle from the tap he'd heard for over an hour. How it sounded like the babbling of a summer brook. A calming sound. A peaceful sound. His legs gave out, but he barely felt the sting of the cuts on his knees when he landed hard on them, so lost in guilt was he. Replenished tears welled up and fell as they pleased, as the Dhampyre sat in shameful silence. It wasn't cowardice... He was cruel and heartless to think of Trevor's act of desperation as such. So quick to pass judgment on a wounded suffering soul. He reached out to touch the gorgeous gradient of blues and green that was the hydra whip, uncaring how it seared his gloveless flesh. The resting coil of it, he traced the unbroken line mindlessly, was heart-shaped. A farewell. An apology. A declaration of love. Burning fingers traced the heart, Dhampyre ears hearing the echoes of tricking water... How peaceful. How calming. To surround yourself with tokens of love and comfort from past and present and try to ease your pain the only way a broken mind could think of how.
He was a monster to have said and done what he did. To have put his hands on the one he loved and spewed such vitriol and accusations. Trevor wasn't a coward for trying to stop the hurt. He was helpless and suffering. The Hunter just didn't want to hurt anymore and he couldn't ask for help... He had no voice to ask Alucard for help.
That's right. Alucard's tears dried quickly in the burning glow of his red eyes. Fury returning with a vengeance with a singular focus to aim it towards. You've been robbed, Trevor. That woman's ministrations and torture have stolen your voice. I am so sorry I haven't finished with this sooner...What I should have done from the very start. Virtues and high-ground be damned. I would commit any sin to spare you, Trevor.
Once he picked himself off the cool tile, he noticed the very object of his adoration standing in the door frame. So sickly looking and gaunt, borrowed shirt bloodied beyond salvation, the furrowed brow and cobalt eyes watching him widened in what appeared to be fear when Alucard returned the gaze. My poor darling Hunter, to be so weak and wounded. There is no reason to be nervous of me. The Hunter took a step back as he approached, mouth opening as if to cry out... to which no sound would come. Yet the wary action, the retreat... That fragile fearful creature so in need of his protection and strength. Something animalistic in Alucard responded to it. A demonic impulse, guided by his fury and flames fanned by his unadulterated worship. A switch inside flipped. The Dhampyre seized the frail body and pulled him into his embrace before the Hunter could move beyond his reach. Alucard nearly quivered with rage, mind flung out to the woods where his prey lay. This could not drag any longer. Trevor could not suffer any more heartache and survive it.
“I am not angry with you, Trevor, my sweet. Hush now. Please don't be afraid of me.” The Dhampyre carded through blood crusted chestnut locks in a soothing fashion, holding firmly, but lightly so as not to further frighten the poor thing. “You're not a liar either. Look... We are both still here... Together, right?” The smaller brunette shook his head, but it was unclear how exactly he meant the action to be taken. Alucard took it positively, Trevor's confusion and instability to blame, no doubt for any mixed messages. “It's all right now... Hush. You are so loved, Trevor. I've loved you across time and space. You deserve to be pampered and doted upon. You deserve some peace. You deserve more than I can give, but you can have everything I am able to, you know that?” Again the brunette shook his head, pushing against his chest with captured hands, his cobalt eyes still wide. “Shh... please don't look at me like that. I could not stand it if you are afraid of me too after all these years. My fury is not for you, my love. It's for the Witch who stole your voice.” He explained fanatically. The Hunter was trying to step back to better look at him but he couldn't bear to let him go just yet. His grip tightened and Trevor finally stilled, obediently. It was the first time the Hunter had surrendered to Alucard so easily. “There we are... You're all right. We are both all right, Trevor.”
His own ego assured of the fact, he walked the Hunter out of the washroom, padding silently to the dresser to pull some clothes for them both. In a whisper, it was easy to command the boy to dress, held so close as he was. Just a craning of his neck and shoulders to overshadow. Alucard pulled the stained teehsirt over his head and tossed it into the living room with plans for it later. Right now, he wanted to make sure his pampered little pet was seen to. It was just as easy to compliment the outfit from his towering stance, fixing chestnut tresses how he liked them as he did so. Satisfied, he dressed in the black base of his hunting garb, never allowing the Hunter to stray too far away while he discarded torn bloodied clothes of his own in the nearby waste-bin. Trevor was weak and fragile. Better not to let him out of sight until his basic needs were met. Finished dressing, he coaxed his needlessly apprehensive lover towards the kitchen, ordering him to sit.
Yoko's ready-made food was an easy pick, ramen noodles needing only a kettle and a pot to hard-boil two eggs. All together a simple meal, but quick and easy to digest. He slid the finished product across the table, even having peeled the eggs and stood with hands on edge, leaning over. “Eat. You are starved.” He insisted, and Trevor demurely obeyed. It pleased him to have no argument for a change when logic was clear and sound. The Hunter needed to eat. “Thank you.” He whispered, watching the brunette methodically polish off what he'd been given. Taking a seat to observe compliance, he confessed. “It makes me happy to see you taken care of.”
Cobalt eyes were watching him warily, and Alucard did not care for that. He tried to reach out and run his hands down the Hunter's arms to sooth him, but the action seemed to have the opposite effect. It was perplexing, for this creature that so loved him were confessions to be believed, to be so unnerved in his presence. “Please don't look at me like that, Trevor. I don't like it.” He stated firmly, and the Hunter lowered his gaze. “Don't sulk either. There is nothing you need to worry about when it comes to me.” When the sulking was maintained, he found himself brusquely reaching to pull Trevor out of his chair and back into his embrace. In his lap it was much easier to stroke and coddle his pretty plaything. “I understand why you did what you did. It's all right, I've said. You are too perfect a pet to suffer so. I do not blame you for being overwhelmed when you cannot even voice your pain. It's the Witch's fault you were left with only that choice.” The Hunter opened his mouth, stress and struggle apparent, but of course nothing could be formed. With endless affection, he continued to caress his lover, hoping the next touch would be the one that finally calmed his nerves. “Hush, my sweet. Its all right, I've said. I understand. I forgive you, so I hope you can forgive me? I've been cruel to you.”
A flash of... something... crossed Trevor's eyes, but it could not be discerned and was gone before long. The Hunter almost seemed frustrated. Perhaps he may have been, had those damnable nerves not had such a hold of him. Seeming unsure what to do with his emotions, the brunette leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. The act elated Alucard. Pleased beyond words, he leaned into it and before long had the bony little plaything pressed against the table, devouring that mouth. Caressing touches now roving and deliberate. The body beneath him was pliant and non-resistant. Staying where he placed it, and allowing what was done to it. But those cobalt eyes were staring mournfully at him when he next lifted his head.
“Stop looking at me like that.” He warned. “I told you I don't like it.” To his pleasure, the Hunter responded next by throwing his arms around him, pulling himself up in order to hug his body. With a hand his head was tipped forward until they rested against each other. Trevor took his hand and placed it on his heart, and placed his own on Alucard's. Holding them there, he stilled, just breathing slowly. The Hunter was trying to tell him something with this calming meditative act, he knew... He knew the poor thing was desperate to communicate a message Alucard clearly was not getting. But it just further fuelled his rage that Trevor could not get his point across. It was the Witch. She had done this to them. To Trevor. “How you suffer because of her... I will not let this stand.” He seethed.
This startled his beautiful Hunter. Trevor tried to pull away.
“Don't.” Alucard insisted, holding him in place. “Please don't run from me. Stay here.” Pressing his forehead back against the brunettes, he tried to explain in a softer voice. “It's not you, my love, I've told you. My fury is only for her. You are victim of her ambition.” Trevor was shaking his head, simultaneously tapping at his chest and trying to get Alucard to place his hand back there. “I don't understand you. I love you so much, and I can't read what's on your mind. She's robbed you of your voice. But she's robbed me of it as well. If you could have only told me how to help you...” His clawed hands grazed the gauzed over wound self-inflicted by a troubled desperate soul. “You would not need to suffer so. She must pay for that. So I want you to do something for me while I am away.”
He pulled Trevor up after him, settling the frail Hunter on his feet and pulled him alongside as he ducked into his office to gather his coat, cloak, and sword. His voice was a mere murmur, cautious of waking Julius. “You are going to eat, and sleep, and care for your wounds. You will do this for me.” Although whispered, his command was ironclad. “I am yours. All I have, all I will ever acquire, all I will ever do is yours or in service of you. But remember that you are mine, Trevor. I beg you always remember that you are mine and mine alone.” Why ever did his lovely pet look so sad? The grip on his shoulders tightened as he placed a chaste kiss on the Hunter's brow. “I am going to find your voice, my sweet. I won't come back until it's found. So you will do as I ask so that you are healthy and strong when I return?”
Shaking his head again, Trevor reached for Alucard's desk. Curious, the Dhampyre allowed him to stray just far enough to grab a pen and paper, hastily scrawling in German, likely because it was his second language, and Alucard could not understand his first. The note when held up, brought a wicked smile to the Dhampyre's visage. A wondrous callback to an earlier time when the poor thing thought such imperfect thoughts.
I am not your wife, your pet or your plaything. You are not my husband, my protector or my property.
More hasty pen stabs.
There is something wrong with you. You are not acting normal. It is my fault, I think. I'm sorry I did what I did. What I tried to do is no one's fault but my own. Please stay here and talk to me. We will figure it out.
“What a pretty little wife you'd make though, Trevor. I'd be so happy to be your husband.” He sighed, but the Hunter was not receptive to his wistful wishes. His plaintive features and searching eyes an open window into his growing distress. The poor confused thing, believing he had any ownership in this tragedy. “There is nothing wrong with me, my love, please don't worry about your Dhampyre. And I know, my sweet, that you did not mean to end your life... You felt trapped in misery. You believed you had no other way to ease this suffering then an escape. It's not your fault in the slightest, it's hers. That is why I am going to get your voice back. It must be restored so you can be whole... I won't have that woman take from me what's mine.”
Another wary yet still plaintive look, and the pen touched paper deftly, even though the body wielding it was unsteady on it's feet.
If I say I would rather have you than my voice, will you stay here with me until you calm down? You are not of sound mind. It's my fault, let me make it right. Please?
“You have me, my love. All of me. But I don't have all of you.” He insisted. “Please understand, I am doing this for us both. That you insist you have any fault in what that woman made you do is proof enough she needs to pay. I just need you to stay safe and regain your health. You don't need to worry, I am Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș, Scion of Dracula. I will not suffer this insult to my beloved or myself.”
I don't have you. This isn't you. What I did was my own mistake, and my actions clearly robbed something from you. Stay here and let's find what I stole from you first. Once we find what's unhinged in you, then we can talk about the Witch. Once you are okay. Rational. Please stay.
Playful smile pulling at his lips, the Dhampyre fell in and kissed the Hunter once more. It did nothing to ease Trevor's naked concern and trepidation, but it did wonders for Alucard's conviction. “You can't steal anything from me Trevor. I give it all willingly. That you love me enough to try and keep me safely here with you means more than you'll know. You do not need to fear... Really.”
I do fear. You are both treating me and talking about me like I am a possession to be mended. It is not like you, and it is frightening me.
“Don't write that. And don't look at me like you are afraid of me, either. I can't bear to have you look that way.” Alucard's mood soured considerably. Taking the Hunter by hand he pulled him through the living room, stopping only briefly to gather the bloodied shirt, and stepped outside. In the sunrise light, the pale creature's features were golden. The alluring vision eased his agitation some. Seizing Trevor's wrists, he held them up, a spark of Hellfire burning up the page with his scrawled penmanship, and melting away the pen for good measure. “You are not a mere busted up or dented possession, but a treasure I mean to restore to it's former glory. Stay here, Trevor. Julius and Yoko will take care of you in my stead. If you stay with them you will be safe until I return. And I will return.”
The Hunter pulled at his arm trying to draw him back towards the garden home, but the Dhampyre preoccupied himself by tearing the teeshirt in half, keeping the bloodied raiment scrap to slide into his pocket, and discarding the other in the firepit. The next best thing to live bait now stashed on his person, he pulled that fretful wounded little thing back in for one last soft kiss. No more then a light press of lips. “You behave, all right? Don't make any rash decisions until I come back for you.” About to shift form and fly away, a passing thought halted his step. He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out the small ornate Echo Mirror. This item he pressed into Trevor's hand with a small smile. “Just in case of emergency. Yoko will be able to work it if you show her you have it. But keep it safe for me, as it's a gift.”
And then he was off on the hunt. Bat eyes peering back down into his garden as he swirled into the air to bolster his resolve. He would find that sweet Hunter's voice and make him whole.
Then they would talk, in the very literal sense of the word.
*****
October 2037 ~ Sea of Trees, forests surrounding Mt. Fuji
Hinoki cypress and Japanese hemlock. Latin Chamaecyparis obtusa and Tsuga diversifolia. The names for tall obscuring canopy trees, roots spread shallow and broadly against the hard volcanic rock beneath the soil as to create visible forest veins, seemingly with the snow-capped mountain the vector. The heart. The demon stepped easily through this maze of bark and moss, the nature of his being frightening away the black bears, boars and various small prey animals. The Dhampyre moved boldly, claws scratching away at every handhold, boots digging and scuffing every root. His marks were deliberate. A challenge to the monster in the shadows that had stalked him or his love the night previously. Caution be damned now. In truth, violence for violence's sake was never the answer. Truer still, violence as an answer to violence was a simplistic barbarism entrapment that too often and too easily was fallen into, but never could it be said to have been the recourse of a truly enlightened society. Mayhaps it was the the morals of his demon heritage taking reigns, but sometimes... Sometimes when facing an immoral situation, the only choice left to a man was an immoral reaction. Ancient progenitor demon god or rare endangered species, whichever mattered not one whit now. The Scion of Dracula was no Saint, just as easily dragged into sin and emotional manipulation as any man walking the Earth. Perhaps even more so by nature of his lineage. Simply put, Alucard wanted blood for blood. It was just the kind of demon he was.
Scent of Belmont blood wafting from out his pocket fuelled both his focus and his wrath, and he could only pray it burned brighter than any beacon fire he could light, but if need be, he would burn this entire sea of trees to ash. If that's what it took to flush out the wicked witches and their shadowy pet, so be it. It would not have been the first, tenth, or even hundredth time Alucard had razed a landscape in the name of revenge. Force of Will fully engaged, he caught the minds and subjugated various Yōsei he came across, commanding them to scatter out, broadening his search. The effort of controlling so many unique and complex creatures was significantly taxing, but a necessary sacrifice that paid off. His connection pulled him to follow after his converging followers. His army of Japanese fairies having gathered enough sensations from their numerous and variant talents and strengths, all shared and networked by his control, to have picked up an interloper in the woods.
Energy expenditure nearing his limit, he released his slaves gradually, keeping the ones closer to the trail engaged until he could close the gap. Why hadn't he thought to do this in the first place, distantly his mind wondered. The answer, of course, was because it was wrong. His place as peacekeeper and leader meant he'd always be held to the highest standards. Morals and standards he was trading in, in the name of Trevor Belmont. It was wrong to march another being possibly towards harm or death against their will. It was a cruel and immoral act, what he was doing, no matter the reason. The closer the Dhampyre stalked, the more evident his perversion and sin became. Connections were lost left and right. Not by his hand, nor his wavering strength. They were there, a part of the whole, and then simply gone. His hunt brought him to pass by some of his fallen Yōsei. They appeared motionless, and no aura could he sense from their still bodies, but he did not stop to check them for life. He was too close now.
The sea of trees grew darker and denser, so little space now left to slip through the foliage. The Yōsei were all but lost to him now, but the faint scent of earth and sky was all he needed. He spared the tenuous hold on the stragglers and released them from their damned death march. He would finish this alone. He could see the trees rattle counterpoint to the wind above the leaves ahead, and followed the shadow monster deeper still. Once the creature began to circle, Alucard's bloodlust skyrocketed. He had it. It was no longer running, and he certainly was not going to run or hide either. Red eyes watched the light refracting and camouflaged creature tighten it's circles from where he stood stock-still and waiting. Baiting.
Without Joachim, Trevor, Julius, Yoko or Hammer at his side, this time the tree monster came to Alucard. Nigh-invisible shape landed against the tallest, broadest tree in direct eyesight to the Dhampyre, and stood. As if on a casual stroll along the promenade, it walked down the trunk effortlessly straight, parallel to the soil, and the strength in the body that could make such a feat look so easy closing in was not lost on Alucard. One slow step later, the creature stood on the same forested floor as he, and in the quiet moment held, he could study it's outline clearly for the first time.
It was not large by any means. An inch or two taller than Yoko at most, and seemed to be both male and of a similar shape to how Trevor, pound for pound in healthier days, used to look. As the refraction melted away into liquid ink, Alucard could see the long whip-like tail lashing about behind, broad smoke-like wings wavering in the air, even particles separating briefly to float on the air before rejoining the mass. Impossibly light-absorbing, the inky membrane fit it's athletic body like a bodysuit, separating only from the tips of it's fingers and toes to allow deadly crescents of talons free to tear into bark or possibly even flesh. Alucard would find out soon enough, he suspected.
The Dhampyre found himself smiling mirthlessly, fangs bared. This monster... This prized pet. Surely if he could capture it the Witch would come running. It's elemental scent was growing in strength the longer they faced off. A cloying, distracting... heavily arousing component flooding his senses the longer they stared each other down. Ahh, I see how you work now, shadow. Alucard mused, mind already addled by the pheromones exuded. Still, he had the scent of what he truly desired on him, right in his pocket to remind him to stay the course. He would not be tempted to stray by this seductor with Trevor at his side. Not to say the creature's efforts were without effect. He knew he had to get it, but could not recall how he'd planned so perfectly to, now that it and it's pheromones were within leaping distance. Instinct it was, he surrendered. Higher thought was lost to him under the weight of it's powers.
Because the Witches in the Coven had spoken in English, it was what he tried first to engage with the shadow. “What are you, shadow creature? I have heard several tall tales about what sort of demon you are. Which is truth, I wonder?” Alluring aroma intensifying further, the tail of the creature seemed to vanish into the inky casing, while the wings grew larger. Those wings had been what caught him the first encounter, and his base protective instinct begged he step away from them, not closer. He stepped closer again anyway, just beyond their reach, waiting for the creature before him to make it's next move. “Well? Are you really such an ancient demon as this Lilû I keep hearing of, or a mimicking species?”
Several moments passed, and the Dhampyre could painfully count each one, as the creature's head tilted slightly in apparent consideration of his questions. It was not unlike a Belmont Pause, and the grim humour in that passing recognition was not lost on Alucard. Head tilting back in place from it's contemplation, the black membrane at last begun to peel away from it's face. Splitting in half, and falling away like a cascade of water, until the whole of it's visage and much of it's chest down to where it's navel should have been on a normal man, was bared. Warm auburn hair, chestnut in colour one could argue, spilled out in a glossy pin-straight fan, framing a well sculpted, blemish free, pale face set with familiar grey-blue eyes, the colour of winter snow in the shade of a tree, or the cooled steel of a freshly forged blade. So perfectly flawless in design, it had to be a trick.
“Are you a homunculus, I wonder? Made from mine, whose features you share?” The accusation was made with a touch of a growl. It was too glaringly perfect a match. As if Trevor's essence had been distilled and every beautiful flaw and freckle in his flesh smoothed out into this inhuman copy. The tapering cinch of it's waist, begging his fingers to curl around, was even the same. It's beauty so flawless and otherworldly, he found himself less enchanted by it's form than with his brunette's tarnished and scarred pelt. Trevor's flesh told his history of victories and losses, and his pulse hummed under Alucard's hands. Trevor lived and suffered, just as Alucard did. Nothing seemed capable of touching nor leaving a mark on what stood before him.
“Not wise, Pretty One.” At last, the shadow monster spared him a reply. It's voice even was like earth and sky. Touching both devilish pitch and angelic choir simultaneously. Masculine and feminine, either or both, in constant flux. “Fear is wisdom. The other night-flyer was wise.”
“So you can speak.” Alucard half-growled, half-laughed. “Answer me, then. What are you?”
Wings growing more expansive by the minute the more the inky membrane peeled back from it's flesh, the perfected mirror image of Trevor Belmont returned his fanged smile with one of it's own. A flash of white human-like teeth. There were no fangs to speak of in it's mouth. “Hungry.” It replied, sweetly and threateningly in two voices spoken at once.
This time, instinct won out and Alucard stepped back, beyond the scope and reach of those black voluminous wings. His hand dug into his pocket and pulled the bloodied scrap of cloth free. “Is this what you are hungry for?” The shredded garment was tossed in the space between, and the monster moved to inspect it more closely, causing Alucard to retreat again to stay beyond it's reach. Familiar blue eyes studied the scrap, head tilting one way and than back before tilting the other. When it spoke next in those twinned voices it sounded more male than female, but it was what came out of it's pouty rouged lips that sent ice through Alucard's veins.
“Sonia.” It's eyes looked up at him, questioningly, as if expecting the Dhampyre to produce the long dead Vampyre Hunter from out his pocket as well. Who else could it mean? And what did it mean that this monster was asking for her by name?
“Sonia Belmont.” Alucard repeated, and those blue eyes kept blinking slowly in his direction, waiting. Alucard took a gamble. “I know where that scent came from. Would you like me to show you?”
The uncanny demon smiled again. “Scent of Sonia. Easy to find. Just like Pretty One.” Twinned tones battled one another for dominance as it laughed musically. “Esteffi needs, but too much danger. Pretty One came all alone now. This is helpful. The Prettiest Pretty One was wise. Still danger. Sonia easy now that Pretty One comes willingly.”
“I am not going anywhere with you, demon.” Alucard stated flatly, parsing through it's broken language for a clearer understanding. “It's not even you I've an appetite for. I want your mistress, the Witch. I want this... Esteffi.”
To this declaration the shadow monster drew still, watching him with slightly widened eyes. Another Belmont-like pause ensued before it rose to it's full height and faced him head-on. Eyes narrowing, it's bruise of a mouth curled at one corner. A smirk, there was no other word for it.
“What a coincidence.” A haughty woman's accented voice joined in from behind. All around Alucard could sense Arcane users seemingly rising from the very earth itself. A clever spell he'd never encountered before. The speaker came around into his line of sight, a statuesque woman with Norwegian or similar Nordic features. “It turns out Estefania was looking for a safe way to get a hold of you, Dhampyre. How kind of you to offer yourself so easily.”
“I offer nothing.” He warned only once, and struck out as soon as the words left his lips.
Silver bladed sword carving out a wide circle of safety his Hellfire could fill, he leaped through his wall of flames at the nearest foolish girl who thought some parlour tricks were enough to withstand the might of a Moroi predator. Her tricks were more than show, singeing his cloak with her counterattack, but the girl fell lifelessly aside making way for him to come after the next in line. Gale winds, arctic whirls of jagged sharp ice, and burning witchfire assaulted from all around. His feet and body followed instinct, evading by sense rather than the strategy, due to a mind wholly clouded by the scent of the Shadow in the midst of the battle. These witches were not like the last batch. Their talents were not ritual-based, but battle-oriented, and evidently well practised. Each that fell to his blade or spells took effort. Effort and energy he'd so easily wasted away on subjugation in his haste to be where he was, he had not stopped to reason the wisdom of arriving in such a state.
They were wearing him down, slowly but surely, and he'd still have the shadow monster to contend with when victorious. It had yet to make a move, but it watched every move with wide-eyed focus. His attackers closed in, women from too many ethnicities with battle cries in too many languages to be by chance. A purpose drew them all together and their conviction in it held them strong. Too strong, Alucard feared, for what he had in him left to give after wasting so much energy. It was time to take another risk. To chance another cut at the head of this beast. If this Esteffi was not here, the shadow monster would make a suitable substitute.
Demonic energy reserves near empty, he pushed his form into a toxic vaporous cloud, the most taxing of his shape-shifting abilities. Grimly delighting in the choking fits and struggling breaths of the woman he passed over and through, his path was quick and direct towards the demon. His prey. The shadow was as wise as it had claimed to be, inky membrane pulling up to cover it's nose and mouth and it's stance lowered, legs spreading, ready for the incoming attack. Unlike before, the shadow did not flee, but held it's ground. The Dhampyre's distant higher level brain functions wondered if that was because the creature had the upper hand with sufficient numbers, or because it believed it was more than enough for a Dhampyre.
His form restoring behind the inky creature, he thrust the silver blade through it's shoulder blades. Or rather, he tried to. The membrane, he discovered far too late, served also as quite an impenetrable form of armour. With such high-risk at close proximity and no time or mental capacity even if there was the time to think of anything else, he cast the sword aside in favour of grabbing hold of the inky monster. The split in it's armour still showing, his fangs aimed for the exposed flesh of it's neck.
The ambrosial flavour hitting his tongue whited-out all his senses, but not before he could hear twinned tones lamenting how 'Not wise' Alucard's choice had been.
Trapped.
His body was being jostled, but he was trapped somewhere inside, clawing at his limbs and tongue, urging them to function in any capacity. He watched listlessly out of yellow eyes the shadow monster lowering him to the forest bed and being joined by the tall Norwegian witch. She was removing his cloak and coat, speaking about lightening the load whilst doing it. The shadow smiled down at him, tilting it's head each way and back again. It's inky membrane had a shimmer, and even on the cusp of passing out, the Dhampyre dimly recognized his own essence in the twinkling lights. He'd been consumed. The shadow had used his breaching fangs against him. What should have devoured was instead eaten in return. Arms were curling under his uselessly limp ones now. He was being dragged, the dead-weight of his body a struggle for the ones seeking to carry him off. At least, distantly he mused with remorse, his size was making it difficult for them.
He could not even muster the strength to move his eyes, nor blink. Vision seeing only what was before his freely lolling head, and then only clearly until dried eyes started to water and burn. The women dragged him, shadowy creature hopping along amongst the trees for some time, before he could hear a river and panic set in. The holy symbol was in his coat pocket, and without it the free flowing natural spring water was no different than acid to his Vampyric side's flesh. While they didn't toss him in and call it a day as he feared, they did continue to drag him until they all disappeared into a cave system adjacent. The air was damp and cool through long winding and low clearance paths, but as they entered the inner sanctums, the air was dry and warm. Habitable.
There were several women who spooked at the entourage's arrival. Some girls braved a closer look at him, but most were too afraid to step closer. These ones were not soldiers. These ones were followers. They were not afraid of the shadow monster, however. They called out and cooed at it like greeting a favourite pet, and the shadow dropped it's wings, tail and most of it's armour to allow their affectionate touches in response. They called it 'Arden'. The shadow had a name, at least amongst this coven. Alucard's limp body was pulled further passed this gathering chamber and deeper into another, the shadow following after them. The captivating scent intensified in this next more intimately sized space, and the bronze skinned murderess' presence explained why. Coupled with this Arden's pheromones, the High Priestess' addition would have driven his body to respond with arousal had he'd the energy for it under their combined allure.
“I am glad you are safe, Sisters.” The High Priestess' voice sounded honest to his ears. Her jewel coloured green eyes passed over the lot of them, and Arden too. With a unconscious brush at her raven-hair she gave the shadow monster a gentle scolding in a warm honeyed tone. “You, I am the most surprised by, my dear heart. I know you know better than to put yourself in such a dangerous position.”
“Lethal, is more accurate, Sister.” The Statue spat and gave his side a brutally hard kick. “Angelina, Octavia, Blaire, Jennifer, Lise, Rena, Ebtisam, and Zainab.” Names were listed off with heat and finality, and another kick delivered with just as much anger. “All dead by this Dhampyre's hands.”
The anguish on the raven-haired woman's face was palpable. Her teeth grit as her gaze cast to the side, only returning to meet the Statue's when she had composed herself. “We... will not waste their gift, Sister. They had a hand in delivering us exactly what we need to succeed. Even better than what we had before.”
“Pray tell, Sister. I am... So very angry. My heart lay with my fallen Sisters. Pray, give me the reason this time will be different. We still don't have the sacrifice back.”
“This one guarded our sacrifice, Sister. We have the guard.” Her hand raised to still the tongue of the Statue as the woman started to demand how good was a guard over their needed ritual component. “Your anger is pure and just, Sister. And shared, I assure you. Please let me explain.” The High Priestess beseech her furious collection of battle mages. Once they settled to listen she pointed down towards the helpless Moroi in their midst. “Take a closer look, Sisters. This is no mere Dhampyre. This is the World Summit one. The one who advocates for the rights of demons and devils.” She paused to let them murmur amongst themselves, and some even went so far as to fish out phones to verify her claim. “You see?” The High Priestess' voice continued in a more encouraging tone. “This is the one in the Church records. This is the son of the Castle's former Master Vlad Dracula Țepeș.”
“Sister...” The Statue trailed off as she realized some implication Alucard could only fear.
“Yes... The Stones. When the Castle was banished in the Demon Wars, Dracula's spirit was separated from the Stones at last. There are no records of what happened to the Castle's Anchor, but this Dhampyre stood with the hunter who vanquished his Father for the final time. I recognized him in our last encounter. I thought perhaps he could be an ally if we could only speak, but his actions back then cautioned me against it. He seems to protect with one hand whilst punishing with his other. These conflicting motives are a puzzle I hope to solve... But what I mostly seek to gain from our captive, my Sisters, is the location of the Anchor. He must know. If the Church or the Hunter had taken posession when it was severed from Dracula, they'd have it as a trophy they parade around, you know it. Their bloated pride could not resist. That they have not means they do not have it. So who else was in that chamber that day back in ninety-nine who would?”
“Pretty One is not wise.” The shadow monster who had been climbing the walls and ceiling, Arden, cut in. “Very strong. But not wise. Tasty. But Esteffi wants him. Esteffi is of this one, and no longer small. Still. This one catches for Esteffi.” With a soundless bound, it landed back down on the cave floor by Alucard's side and peered down at him. “Little ones killed. Scary scary. This one wanted to catch. Pretty One wanted to kill. Small ones protect this one. This one does not like that. The killing.”
From the corner of Alucard's blurry vision he thought he saw the Statue's feature soften. “You are welcome, Arden. We will protect everyone like us soon enough with this Dhampyre's help, whether he gives it freely or not. So what do we do with this?” Another kick to his side in the same spot punctuated her question. She had very good aim, and a very pointed boot. “How do you intend to keep it contained when it's the eight hundred year old world's most famous Dhampyre?”
The raven-haired woman laughed in a mournful way before she answered. “It shames me to say, but I had a feeling it may come to this. I have prepared some... accommodations for our guest. I am certain he will not enjoy them one bit, and I do hope he understands that I derive no pleasure from keeping him locked away in the prison I have prepared. Nor will I enjoy the methods I will no doubt need to implement in order to loosen his tongue on the location of the Crimson Stone. The Anchor in hand and our sacrifice returned, we will not just have a tendril to the Castle, we will have the whole Chaos entity at our beck and call. Then, Sisters, it will be our kind that will be compromised to. We'll decide what is fair and just for our Sisters and kin.” Bidding Arden to rise she took the demon's hand to help it up. “Arden, could you please carry him for me? He looks heavy.”
The demon acquiesced, inky wings spreading out to scoop him up and follow after her. The Statue scoffed at the sight. “We dragged him over an hour back here and not once did Arden offer to help.”
“Arden is a very ancient demon, Sister. He does not reason in the same fashion as you or I.” The High Priestess explained casually. “His actions are entirely comprised of impulse and whims. He does not plan beyond his next step, and he does not offer aid when he sees you are doing something with any degree of success. That you could carry the Dhampyre, regardless of difficulty, was as far as a creature like he is capable of processing. He will help you if you ask for it. He enjoys being helpful.”
His body was being carried on what felt akin to a slick oil, moving towards the scent of running water, lower into the cave system. Arden carried him far ahead of the High Priestess and her right-hand statuesque Witch co-conspirator, much to Alucard's dismay. It seemed they spoke freely around his limp body, unaware he still had a semblance of consciousness left. Their plan, he'd already learned in just this short time, was clear... and even deadlier than he imagined. No one knew what happened to the Stones after the Demon Wars.
No one but Alucard and his Vampyre confidant.
That she recognized him and correctly assumed he'd know of the Crimson Stone in particular, the Anchor's, location... It was dire. His demon bloodlust, prideful ego and hubris had him now a captive. The last bastion of the Crimson Stone was a captive. If she discovered his trick... If she managed to pull from him the secret of the stones... Alucard could only curse his own failings as he was dropped onto a table down below a low grumbling subterranean lake. Joachim had been right again. He never listened and he never learned. The Vampyre had told him if he chased this particular shadow he may never come back. Now he was on a cold wooden table, immobilized by the complete and utter draining effects of whatever creature Trevor's too-perfect twin was, and being stripped of all his remaining clothing by a beautiful High Priestess and her angry statue of a companion. With another final punch to that same side, ribs absolutely bruised for sure, the Statue left the woman and her demon to finish up.
Arden's ink all but left his body, coating Alucard and the High Priestess instead, with a vestige still connected to the small of it's back. Alucard's blurred vision could make out that the flesh of the rest of it's body was just as flawless as it's face. No marks or blemishes in sight. Then he was moving. Arden had taken a dive into the lake and carried them both along after it as it's nimble body swam down into the darkness. They were pulled along until a bizarre space came into view. A bubble or void. The closer they got, the clearer Alucard could make out that it was a void in the water, with two columns reaching up into the water as far as his eyes could make out... It seemed to be similar to air intake valves, and Alucard's stomach turned in knots when he started to imagine what a bubble in the bottom of such a deep lake would need fresh air for.
Breaching the void, Arden pulled the High Priestess in gently, and to his surprise, Alucard inside just as gingerly. He was laid down on the bedrock, cool against his naked flesh, now that the inky membrane was returning to it's owner. From where he was sprawled he could see why they were here. A silver cage, large enough to crouch in, maybe at most, was awaiting it's prisoner. There would be no space to sit or lay comfortably, not that he would want to have his flesh seared on the bars to even attempt. The High Priestess conjured up a glowing ball of light to give him a better view of his small and inescapable prison. The ball floated up high and then stayed in place. The Witch bade Arden to put him inside the cage, so as helpful as she claimed it liked to be, the demon obliged. Alucard could feel the burn on his shoulders, flank and feet as he was placed inside.
The pain had only one boon though, and that was in breaking through the paralysis. Weak and clumsy, he began to move, to press against the cage to test it's strength against his. It was no mere silver. Enchanted and enhanced. A clear suppressant to his own Arcane essence. He tried to keep his face expressionless and his voice contained, though the agony was quickly ramping up. The Shadow circled the cage staring at him curiously, which only served to agitate Alucard further and deepen the shame his mind was already plagued with. Noticing his faculties returning, the High Priestess as well stepped closer, but not enough to reach through the bars if he'd even had the strength to try.
“You are suffering. I apologize, but your suffering is for the moment, necessary. You will not die in this space for the time being, though I fear even a demon of your calibre will perish if forced to stay here too long.” As if to empathize her prediction, the spell she'd cast to create this watery prison wavered, and the rush of water hit his prison like a freight train. The anchoring of the cage held, but the Dhampyre was scalded by the free-flowing water as he was turned about and crashed into the bars, choking on acid that threatened to suffocate him. Once the spells equilibrium was restored and the water levelled off, he could only sputter and hack, the agony of the burns felt inside and out. The Witch, in Arden's arms, was safely lowered back to the bedrock. The demon chose to keep to the air, no longer trusting the ground. “I apologize, I had to learn how to perform such a spell just for this occasion. I only had time to make the one attempt. The light I will charge each time I visit so you are not left here alone in the dark. That seems crueller to me, though I supposed it makes no difference in your current condition ultimately. You have killed many of my friends, Dhampyre they call Alucard. I do not know why or how you can stand to slay the people you claim to stand up for. We will have time to discuss and understand one another in due time. Right now, gather what strength you can to speak for my return.”
Alucard hissed, pulling his hands back from the burning silver bars, allowing his knees and shins to take the brunt of his weight against the fire. “I can talk now.” His acid scarred vocal chords rasped.
“I cannot.” The High Priestess replied sadly. “I must go burn the sisters you murdered today. When I have properly seen to them and their memories, I will have time for you, Alucard. The Scion of Dracula surely has patience enough to wait for a funeral.” With a small wave to Arden to catch it's attention, she asked politely. “Would you be able to take me back up now, Arden?”
The demon was happy to oblige her again, and then it was just Alucard. Alone at the base of a lake, in an unstable magickal field, searing on all sides from acid spring water and the silver cage that held him, at a loss for how he was going to get out of this one.
Think. He commanded his weakened body. No matter what, I am going to need my feet and my hands. I need to protect them. With that is mind, he shifted as best he could in the too-small space until he was properly crouched, feet resting between the bars on the bedrock. He could not help that the sides of them were pressed against the burning bars, but at least the soles of his feet were safe. His hands he folded up in crossed arms, keeping the space he needed as compact as possible. The only contact was now the sides of his feet. It was uncomfortable and in a few hours time, bound to become torturous. But it was necessary to protect as much of his flesh as he could until he had a chance to escape.
Whenever that next would be.
He refused to even passingly wonder what would happen if there wouldn't be one.
Notes:
I wasn't really going to do that to you all re: Trevor. But enjoy worrying about hostage number 2.
For those keeping count, Joachim spoiled the stones back in Chapter twenty-three (not six where he was just a perve), along with a few other things.
Chapter 33: Rock Bottom
Notes:
Warning for dubious sexual consent, depending on your interpretation of demon logic & reasoning. Read at your own discretion. I will summarize very briefly at the end for anyone who chooses to skip.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
October 2037 ~ Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Facts. It was too bloody early and cold to be awake.
Yoko rolled over, and over and over again, starfish stretching out along a thousand thread count combed Egyptian cotton sheets. A luxury she would never ever justify dropping that kind of cash on when she could get bargain bin bedclothes from a variety store next to the dodgy bar back home. But these weren't hers and damn if she wasn't going to enjoy the way that softer than silk combed cotton felt along her bare legs and arms on Alucard's rich prince dime. On such a massive bed, no less. Making sleepy snow angels 'cause who wouldn't given this massive mattress, she mused about how she neither kicked Hammer nor Trevor while doing so. But then again... That didn't seem right, if she was being realistic. The big bed was not that massive. Cursing her sleep-ruining superb powers of observation, the sorceress opened her scratchy sleepy eyes and let out a sigh so large her soul tried to make a break for the exit at the same time. The kid was gone. How perfect. How on brand for troublesome Trevor fucking Belmont. Now she had to get up and find the god damn kid, possibly staunch his self-stabbing wounds, or worse. That meant she had to put on pants. She probably had to go outside. All without coffee. To find a suicidal brat. These two lovebirds are just... the most vexing pair of men walking the planet.
“Screw pants.” Yoko huffed, climbing out of the bed and refusing to cave to social norms on public decency. Pants were for weekdays, not weekends. Checking her immediate surroundings for a Belmont corpse, she instead found Hammer dozing right where she'd left him, arm and leg held out as if she still was fit snugly under them. “I could just climb right back in beside you and pretend I saw nothing. You'd forgive me, Hambone?” She asked the out-cold pile of muscles. Without a doubt Hammer would forgive her without question, but she also knew the confirmed for decent human being would get up himself and go looking in her stead. That was just the kind of guy he was. So with another long suffering sigh, she padded out into the living room intent on rounding up this morning's circus, and when when nothing was found, padded into the office to enlist help from her superiors.
Peeking inside at the fold-out pulled her features into an annoyed wrinkle-inducing sneer. “Oh great!” She exclaimed, waking Julius. “How on brand for the half-dead guy as well!”
Her outburst startling, the old hunter was on his feet before her voice had even faded. “What's up, Yoko?” He asked, blinking sleep from his eyes.
“My kid is missing.” Yoko spat, aggravated. “And it looks like you lost yours.”
“Huh, I guess I did.” Julius turned around back to the empty pull-out and made another thoughtful noise. “I was having a hell of a good sleep too... Didn't hear a thing until you barged in here.”
With the huffiest of huffs she threatened with a clenched shaken fist, engulfed in a fine coat of witchfire. “I'll kill them both if that's what they want.” And padded back out of the office to peek into the kitchen. It wasn't a large dwelling, so with nowhere else to check, her annoyed stomping had her stepping outside into the garden. The air was chilling and damp against her mostly bare skin, but her annoyance kept her blood-pumping and body-heat up. The pure power of Rage made manifest. It wasn't like she had to stay out too long, finding her missing child passed out cold against the old ancient tree outside, journal and pen in loose grip. Small miracles. “There you are, Trevor Belmont.” When the kid didn't wake to her jostling, she reached out to check his temperature and found him cool to the touch. His lips were blueish as well. “Great. Just great, Grandpa. Thanks for the unwanted exercise.”
With no one else around to do the heavy lifting grunt-work, she grit her teeth and hauled the unconscious man up. Legit throwing him over her shoulder because that's the only way she could carry that amount of lanky dead weight and still be able to slide the glass door back open. He wasn't even that heavy, if she was being honest, when she felt like he should be made of more substance. On a separate stream of thought, she acknowledged how disturbing it was to observing what starvation did to the human body first hand. Carrying her load back inside, Hammer and Julius met her, coming out of the office together. Hammer being her bestest bro, took Trevor off her hands and disappeared behind the partition to put the chilled Belmont under all the blankets available.
Calling out from out of sight, Hammer observed sternly. “This kid's almost hypothermic. Good thing you found him, Yoko.”
“Turns out Alucard is not in his coffin either. So we are indeed missing one of the ambiguously sane duo.” Julius remarked once she was free of her burden.
With a raise of her eyebrow, the sorceress scoffed. “Hey now, I found my child. You are the one who legit lost yours.”
The Hunter returned her sassy look in kind, pointing out tiredly. “To be fair, my child can fly.” He followed her back outside, curious as to her intentions when she decided to retrieve Trevor's discarded journal, and even peeked over her shoulder as she flipped through it. Upon studying the text, the vexed noise he expelled also was strained by exhaustion. “Of course it's in French. Just our luck. Would have loved to know what's on his mind. Maybe there are other answers in there.”
Plot already in motion, Yoko tossed her head and let out a vicious little laugh. “Oh Jules, don't worry your frowny little red head. We still can.” She insisted with an impish grin. “Hammer speaks French, and you and I both know that neither of us are not above reading 'Dear Diary' entries at this point, agree?” With Julius' quick nod of agreement, she turned on her heel and returned to the less damp indoors to seek out her favourite army veteran. “Haaaaaammer?” Singsong voice carried easily in the silent dwelling. “Do you want to invade someone else's privacy with me?”
Stepping back out from the bedroom and with a pair of pants on now, Hammer raised an eyebrow and shrugged in the universal 'why not' way. The large man motioned them to follow him away from noise-disturbing-range of the passed out brunette and into the kitchen, where the two hunters took a seat and the army vet got to putting on some much needed coffee. Once they were all properly caffeinated, Yoko slid over the French prose and waited patiently for her translation. “We're reading a diary now? Whose is it?” The large man asked, setting down his steaming cup of liquid gold to crack open the cover. “Ahh, the language of love. The kid's is it?” He surmised.
“Do you think you could flip through at least the last few pages and see if there's anything we need to know about? I am talking anything that would be cause for concern, not what he ate for breakfast last week.” Julius asked in a kind of sweet tone, even tying his request off with a neat little bow. “Pretty please with sugar on top?
Hammer humoured him with an equally saccharine smile. “Under the dire circumstances, sure.” Hammer agreed, starting from the very front. In for a penny, in for a pound, Yoko guessed. “Might as well see what's lead up to this latest drama llama, yeah? Lessee here...” The vet begun, clearing his throat. “Well... He's been pretty suspect about you all since July which is when this starts. Correctly knew you were keeping something from him. On these pages he's practising English here. My English Lit classes are long behind me, but I am pretty sure it looks like he used ye olde Middle English and some books Genya had to kind of bridge the gap from what he knew to modern English. That's pretty clever.” Stopping to belly laugh, Hammer divulged through his mirth further. “Get this, he was using the microphone speech to text on Genya's cellphone to capture some of what you guys were saying and writing it down to translate with the fucking translator app. Which let me be clear, he does not call any of these things what they actually are called properly, but it's clear what he is describing is the mic and app. I guess that's how he caught on so fast. Pretty impressive. I am really blown away by how sneaky this kid is.” Hammer whistled, compliment clearly genuine.
Yoko's feathers ruffled. “I should have known he wasn't just playing dumb games all night. I could feel him staring at me when we worked late over here!”
“That little clever son of a bitch.” Julius admonished, sounding more impressed than anything else. “I am so honoured to share this crafty little bastard's genes. Did he catch anything juicy out of us or..?
“Nah, looks just like witch stuff, heraldry or symbols, and Yoko complaining about too much pink wine.” His translating trailed off for the next few minutes, and Yoko watched her army man's face kind of fall. A staggering change from how pleased he'd been just a second earlier. Hammer looked so torn she even reached out to place a hand on his arm to comfort him. “Sorry, Yoko.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “He uhh... It's just some stuff about his sons and how he misses them. It's kind of sad cause they are... Well, long dead, y'know?”
“Yeah...” She agreed readily, just as sympathetically. “You can skip past that... Anything else?”
“He was really looking forward to seeing them again, is all. Agree, let's leave it at that.” With a shake of his head, and a deep breath, Hammer turned the next page and scanned through. “Well here's a little lighter reading. Just some stuff Genya and he were doing and seeing. He's got a lot of pretty little drawings of flowers and trees.” Another wince and he continued more subdued. “Some more waxing poetic on how hard it is to remember he's got a lady back home when Genya is right here within arms reach. How shitty he feels for wishing sometimes he could just stay here with Genya cause it would be so easy. Everything was always so hard or a struggle, but ever since Genya came around, when he struggles Genya is right there without question, and he's afraid he's grown so used to depending on him in the time they spent on their journey, he can't walk away from the support. How he's afraid he'll never be able to stand on his own two feet again now that he's had someone prop him up. Sweet baby Jesus, that's a conundrum kid.”
“I guess it's kind of a bittersweet thing he doesn't have to choose.” Yoko shrugged and exhaled loudly. “Just Alucard left now.”
Reading quietly for a few more passages, Hammer's downturned lips twitched into a smile. “Oh Yoko, babe.”
“Oh boy, what about me can possibly be in there?” Groaning, she asked hesitantly. “We're like 'Hi, how are you?' kind of acquainted at best.”
“Babe.” Hammer dragged out the suspense. “YoBear, don't be mad.”
“Hammer, seriously.” Fingers pinching a beefy arm for punctuation, she raised her eyebrows. “What is it?”
“Yoko, babe, Trevor says you remind him of his mother.” This set Julius off laughing so hard the old man nearly rolled right off the damned stool. Not even Yoko's most withering scowl had any effect on him. “Don't laugh too hard yet, Jules.” Hammer warned. “Trevor's got a nice little assessment of you too. He wonders if you keep parenting everyone around you because you don't have any children of your own. He thinks you should take in a orphan or two to help you mind your own business.” This did indeed set off another round of hearty boisterous laughter from the elder hunter.
The observation from the younger Belmont hardly phased the old man. In a voice strained with barely contained mirth, he responded. “That's all I do, man. How does he think I ended up with all of you?” With a light slap to Yoko's arm he also teased. “You're an excellent mother figure, Yoko, don't make that face.”
“Let's just keep the privacy breach going, shall we?” She replied coolly instead. “I ain't nobody's Mama yet, and I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies to begin with.”
Hammer rubbed the upper arm Julius had slapped in appeasement and nodded his head as he carried on. “Fine fine... So... Oh. Here he writes about Joachim. He thinks the Vampyre is hexed by a guy named Walter? He thinks it's a ring the Vampyre wears that contains the hex. He was trying to think of the best way to get it off Joachim without having the Vampyre kill him, but he's not puzzled out if he's willing to go along with what that entails. If he can work up the nerve, he thinks playing along with Joachim's clear attraction to him might work, but he's really off-put by the notion of having to allow himself to be fondled by Señor Creepy.” With a faux scandalized expression Hammer whispered. “Trevor says he's pretty sure he only likes women, and that Genya is the exception. He's having a really hard time imagining being with another man, even if it's just playing pretend long enough to snatch a hexed necklace for the better good. Joachim doesn't deserve to be a slave to a dead Master.” Volume returning to normal and expression more serious, he finished up this section of the journal's summary. “I'm quoting here in this next part. 'This Joachim is clearly a very lonely creature and treasures his friendship with Adrian. However, as much as Adrian's self-worth is dependant upon receiving attention, Joachim seems to need as much simply to survive the ennui of so long a life. It must be hard to watch so many friends pass on, it's no wonder he holds onto their Moroi friendship so tightly. Adrian will always be here for him. I am happy knowing, in kind, that when I am gone, Joachim will be here for my Dhampyre as well.' Pretty deep thinker, this Trevor, huh?”
“Now that is some interesting lore.” Julius leaned forward, in anticipation of more juicy nuggets. “Hexed people do some crazy stuff, and Señor Creepy is the craziest. I wouldn't be surprised... But then, if Walter means the Walter Bernhard I am thinking of, then Joachim's been under a hex for a thousand years or more. Depends when he was gifted the ring. I have no idea what that would do to a mind.” Shaking his head to clear his many questions and theories, Yoko could tell just by watching the cogs behind his bloodshot eyes grind, the elder Hunter would next ask for clarification. “This writing is all stuff from before our little camping trip though, yeah?” Hammer nodded and Julius returned the head tilt. “I bet Trevor's just full of hot takes on quite a few subjects, so it's a shame he's currently a mute.”
“He's got a very polite yet sassy kind of tone in his writing style, so that checks out. Definitely got some tea to spill, this kid.” Hammer agreed with a chuckle. Eyes widening a little as he read further, he leaned over to elbow Yoko with a wide grin. “Oh you'll like this, Yoko. They have indeed gone to Bone-Town recently. Population, two dudes. Population two dudes, and one of them is your heart-throb teenage crush Alucard.” Hammer laughed, elbowing her further. “Remember how you told me they sold posters of him seventeen years ago when he had that big moment and stood on the World Summit stage? They were like collector's items because a whole generation of tweens had the hots for the Demon Prince. And that you also had one? Cause he was so dreamy.”
Bursting out in her own laughter, Yoko admitted it was completely true. Pasted to the inside of her closet door back home was, in fact, that very poster. “Please tell me, are there details, Hammer? It's for research. Important research.” Her giggling continued. “I still have the poster too. Remind me to show you when we go home. My elder sister even has a copy of his speech from that year that she actually got him to sign. I remember her telling me he looked so confused when she asked him to, and he only signed it cause she wouldn't leave him alone until he did.” The picture of her sister with Alucard was also another family treasure Yoko had to remember to show Hammer and Julius when they got back. The Dhampyre looked so out of his element with all those Belnades and Aulin family witches gathered around him. “Oh man, whatever Trevor's preferences are, Alucard sure is hella gay for dudes. Girl groupies make him so uncomfortable.”
Julius gave her a sidelong long-suffering look. With a measured breath, he reminded her quite bluntly. “Yoko, you just found out Trevor is your direct-line blood ancestor. Your very great-grandpappy, remember? And that Alucard raised your one generation closer great-grandma. Knowing this, you want deets on the hot dirty sex your grandparents are having?” Bloodshot cobalt eyes narrowed in her direction, and he waited a beat to let his words sink in before he pressed further. “Your eight hundred year old step-grandpappy and six hundred year old blood-grandpappy? Old people are into weird shit, Yoko. You get bored and more willing to spice things up the older you get. And you want details?”
“Well it's weird when you put it that way, Jules.” Yoko retorted, defending her perverted honour. “I guess it just doesn't click that he is, like, my ancestor yet because he looks younger than me, and I keep having to mother him.” Further defending her honour, she added. “And Alucard isn't my blood relative. He just so happened to have raised Nana Luna. So his hotness is still technically allowed to be acknowledged. I am not infringing on the creep factor or committing a crime.”
“I give up, girl.” Julius threw in the towel. “You know what, why not pry? What's the harm? Are there details, Hammer? I'd love to know if my great-grandfather liked a good dicking, or he was on top. For research, and just plain ole curiosity.”
Physically incapable to leave that alone, Yoko leaned in and grinned widely. Snotty, even. “Do you like a good dicking, Jules? Cause if you told me the Iron Maiden was a man, I'd believe you.”
Never one to back down from a challenge, Julius gave her a taste of her candid medicine, divulging with impunity. “When I'm stationed back home in Romania, about once a week I will consent to doing whatever crazy thing Liza feels like doing in the bedroom. And what happens during whatever, is whatever, Yoko. Chew on that.”
Horrified and soundly defeated at her own game, Yoko leaned in towards Hammer and whispered very audibly and not quiet at all in the slightest. “That means at least a strap-on is involved, Hammer, right? I am not crazy?”
Hammer nodded severely. “She's definitely pegging him at least. With a diamond-encrusted dildo no less, knowing that haute couture lady.” Waiting a short pause to let the horror set in, recoil from it, and let the demons pass, with a loud clearing of his throat, the vet tried to bring them all back to task. “Haunting images of Liza and her diamond strap-on dick aside, can we get back to business, you gross heathens? I'm sorry to inform you both that Trevor doesn't specify exactly who was where doing what in any positions, bottom or top. But he does mention that Alucard is very attentive and loving and he missed how safe he feels sharing the Dhampyre's bed. How romantic.”
“Okay, this is kind of sweet to hear after all the traumatic bullshit and fighting I've been witness to.” Yoko admitted. “It's nice to know they are not completely dysfunctional in all aspects of this weird fucking relationship.”
“Given everything in this journal and outside context, sounds an awful lot like as much as Trevor insisted he didn't need a bodyguard, he sure likes having one.” Julius mused. “Maybe that's why he rebelled against the idea so much; He secretly wants Alucard to baby him. These two are too prideful for their own collective good.” With that summary delivered, Julius turned his attention back to Hammer and prompted him to continue reading. “What else have we got, Hammer?”
Obliging the elder Hunter, Hammer flipped to the next pages. “Let's see now... here... Well. Perhaps I'll skip ahead. This stuff is just...” The army vet struggled suddenly to explain, his sensitive and empathetic soul struggling with what was lay bare in the journal, and settled simply on a tight quick breakdown. “This is all just... Private, private. The writings of a very broken man trying hard to work out how he's going to cope with utterly devastating news.” With Yoko and Julius' permission to skip past what no man, woman, child, or demon had any right to read, Hammer again paused. This time, the vet scanned the entire page and a half in silence.
From what Yoko could see, the text was bolder, larger, and less flowy than the preceding text. Lacking the flourishing loops of the previous cursive hand and entirely absent were sketches or studies of plants and insects. She could see the start of the name Adrian written down before it was scratched-out and Alucard was put in it's place. It was also vaguely bullet form, and finished with some question marks. Hammer looked to be re-reading the text, as if trying to make sure he understood exactly what he was translating for them before sharing. Yoko and Julius exchanged a quiet yet suspicious look amongst themselves, but waited patiently for Hammer to nod to himself after a third read-through.
“What do you got, Hammer?” Julius nudged gently. “Something good... or bad?”
Hammer shook his head, unable to say exactly which would be closer to the truth. “It's a note for me, actually. Trevor wants me to tell you both that Alucard was not of sound mind this morning, and that his actions and words were, I'm quoting here, 'unsettling and possessive.' Trevor says he did everything Genya asked because he seemed unhinged and he thought if he could appease 'Alucard', he would stay put until we woke up and could help.”
“That sounds... Not the greatest.” Julius stated grimly.
With an uneasy sound, Hammer continued. “He says Alucard kept insisting he was leaving to find Trevor's voice. Trevor apologizes deeply here to you both, because he says he tried so hard to say something, speak any old single word, so that Alucard would stay, but he just couldn't. He's afraid his failure to do such a simple task has put Alucard in danger. He is deeply ashamed he made such a foolish choice in a dark moment, and he hopes you all can forgive him, and forgive what his actions have done to his Dhampyre. Or at least forgive him enough to help him. He doesn't know what to do, and he doesn't know if Alucard will come to his senses and return on his own or not.”
“I don't like this, Jules.” Yoko rotated her coffee cup anxiously.
Hammer's voice confessed on behalf of the sleeping brunette in the other room. “Trevor claims no matter how much he tries to keep them on even footing, Alucard keeps putting him on a higher and higher pedestal, and refuses to admit Trevor can make any mistake. That Alucard is so blind to his flaws, his Dhampyre is now inventing blame to place on others. Trevor thinks Alucard would have been better off if he'd have stayed dead the first time he was found in the cave, and is afraid his Dhampyre will never be the same one you two have come to know, now that he is back in Alucard's life and obsessions. But that he admits he is here for better or worse, and he does have agency. He finishes off by saying that while this is all his fault, he wants to make it right, but is at a loss how to even begin. He is begging you two to help him figure out how.”
Sitting in silence now, the trio let the French plea for assistance sink in. Yoko turned over the info slowly in her mind, breaking it down into a more simplistic chain of events she could digest. Alucard woke up still rightly crazy, scared Trevor into submission, decided he was going to 'fix' his lover, and then took off alone to who knows where. Probably the murder-suicide forest by all logical accounts, but it was way too much of a huge-ass forest for three or four people to go searching with any degree of success, even if they could safely do so. Trevor, however, was contrite and distraught, and asking them to help. That was the gist of it. Simple enough to grasp, but harder to attack. Alucard, as Julius had snarked earlier, could fly. Julius was an amazing tracker, but not when things could bloody fly. Flyers didn't exactly leave tracks. Not to mention, there was a beast that scared the goddamn crazy Vampyre out in those exact same spooky woods right now. How would either Julius or herself be safe going in to try and find a needle in a haystack solo, since one of them would absolutely have to stay behind and babysit Witch-branded Trevor Belmont? A man dead on his feet, and currently chilled to the bone in the bedroom just off-side. Yoko said as much, and Julius agreed with her assessment that this was a tricky little jam they'd now found themselves in.
“So what do we do, Jules?” She gave up after furrowing her brow so hard it was sure to be her first wrinkle.
“I... think we're a bit stuck, Yoko. We don't want to overreact. But we also don't want to be caught with our pants down.” When Yoko made clear she wasn't following, Julius went into more detail. “Alucard is not of sound mind per Trevor. It's entirely plausible he may just be barking at the moon. Perhaps a few nights out expending his nervous energy will do him good. He'll come to his senses, miss his precious Trevor Belmont who is so prominently placed on the highest of high pedestals, and come back to enjoy and behold his greatest treasure. In this scenario, we would be best to hang tight and take very good care of the trophy boyfriend in his stead. Help get some meat back on his bones, make sure his wounds stay clean and heal up nicely. Get our gear back in order and spend a few extra hours sleeping in to get our own strengths back up. All that jazz.”
Yoko considered the best case scenario, but of course she had to ask. “What is scenario B, Jules?”
“Scenario B is, Alucard has gone batshit crazy and won't come back unless we go out and find him and then make him, through force if necessary. In which case, we absolutely cannot leave Trevor Belmont alone to protect him from witches, shadow monsters, or possibly even crazy obsessive possessive Dhampyres. And also, we absolutely cannot solo-run those woods anymore for all the same reasons. It's too risky now. So, we need to do all that caregiver stuff anyways if we want Trevor Belmont strong enough to come with us. Hammer and I saw him fight. I will attest to the fact that he's the real deal, Yoko. You can't say we couldn't use another Belmont Vampyre Hunter.”
“Is there a Scenario C?” Julius should have known she'd have to ask. She was his little protégé, after all.
“Of course. But I'll spare you that one unless it comes down to it. Deal?”
“Okay... Basically, you're saying no matter what we gotta hang tight for a bit.” Yoko nodded, nervous, anxious, other assorted ugly feelings she did not care to specify, but understood and could not find a flaw in the plan at this time. There were too many unknowns to just go running blind into the woods calling Alucard's name like he was a lost puppy. Especially dragging a weakened, starved, snack-sized Trevor Belmont after them. Might as well just ring the dinner bell for the Shadow Monster.
“Yeah, that's the short end of what I am saying. So I am going to be making some really delicious, really nourishing meals for the next few days. I'd like you to take a run down to the store and see if you can get some of those meal replacement shakes for elderly or sick people. The ones with the extra calories, okay? Maybe ask Hammer nicely to take you and do a full grocery run?” Spoken with another one of those overly sweet smiles directed at her Hambone, Julius returned his gaze to her. “I will babysit Gramps in the meantime.”
Yoko sighed, giving in to her more experienced mentor's whims. “I guess I have to put put pants on after all.” Another sigh, and she was off to fetch said garment.
*****
October 2037 ~ Watery Abyss straight from Hell
The ancient Greek philosophers were certainly not the first to posit that the mind is in control, and thus responsible for the great mixture of being. That Everlasting Mind – the most pure thing in the world – was responsible for ordering the world. Buddhist monks embodied the philosophy, mind over matter, as did many practising ascetics both past and present. Whether it be a Shaolin Monk precariously balanced uncomfortably for hours upon poles, or a Byzantine stylite preaching for decades from a tight pillar, or any other countless denominations of wise men rigidly seeking enlightenment, the idea of the mind and it's power over the body, even under different names, was always held true. For the more science-minded, even modern day Neuropathic therapy incorporated the very same principles and mindset. When pain and discomfort could not be abated or escaped from, and stemmed from the failing, faulty body, only the mind had the ability to break through what medicine and any vice could not.
These therapeutic studies even had guided steps for mind over matter pain management, and they were as followed: Focus on one's pain free areas. Keep positive. Distract oneself if necessary. Breath deeply. And finally, visualize the good. It was easy enough in concept, the Dhampyre reasoned, with so little left to lose in an attempt. First, he only need focus on the pain free areas of his body. A feat proving to be rather tricky, given the circumstance. His skin was a raw patchwork of scalds from a loathsome witch's dodgy containment spell continuously failing to maintain and adhere to her channelling. Each flux of the High Priestess' containment field allowed the lake to breach her walls. The Dhampyre was faced with either a torrent slamming his cage with acid from the side, or a sudden downpour showering from above. Both burned his flesh equally, leaving his hide blotchy, tender, and tight. The horizontal breaches were certainly the worst of them. The slam of water battering his body against the enchanted silver cage, pushing the air from his lungs and replacing it with liquid fire. His aching thighs also burned, as did his hips, if for entirely separate reasons. The crouched, cramped position he held between the random acid baths to minimize his contact with the cage's searing silver, was quite unpleasant to bear. Not so unpleasant as the charred edges of his feet. Now there was the most acute of the agonies plaguing his body and mind.
So what didn't hurt?
Well... His eyes. He'd so far managed to keep them closed while suffering each surprise shower or sudden unwanted bath. The fear of going blind on top of everything else was eating away at his mental fortitude. Yet for now, he was thankful he could still see clearly the witch-light flickering above, illuminating the unstable sphere of magick that served as his prison. That would have to make due for keeping positive. He could still see he was a caged animal. The alternative was definitely worse. His eyes were fine, and with them he could also see into the murk of the lakebed, watching curious fish here and there skirt his prison, as well as the sway of submerged grass or weeds out amongst the assorted muck. A suitable distraction, no? So he had focus on his eyes, gratefulness for their function, and the distraction they provided him now. His breath was always deep, slow, and measured these days. A meditative practice second nature by this point. Mastered centuries ago in order to maintain his calm during tense village squabbles and keep a civil tone, and utilized every time he stepped in front of humans to plead a demon's case. When it came to work purposes, this one he'd had in the bag long before this torturous imprisonment.
So all that was left then was to visualize the good. That one... Was even more tricky at this current junction. The silver enchantment of his cage contained a property that surely was steadily suppressing and leaching his arcane essence, the drain greater the more of it pressed up against his flesh. This lead to yet another distraction beyond the fish and weeds. A deathly game of Keep-Away. Were he only able to keep the contact to a minimum, it was possible, he theorized, to regain enough energy to muster a big enough push against the confinement to break his bonds. He was an eight hundred year old Moroi. That he'd only Dhampyric stamina instead of a full blooded Vampyres's to rely on mattered not for a creature as old as he. His regenerative abilities were quite potent these days due largely to his age. He just had to... Keep away from the bars. Without his essence to fall back on, the lake water would kill him. He would die from exposure in a drawn out fashion, watching his organs fail one by one. Unless he could master Keep-Away. In theory. Each disorienting tumble-wash in the breached lake water, and subsequent time spent feebly sprawled against the bars searing his flesh as he sputtered and hacked it out of his chest and lungs, made that chance to recover move ever closer towards impossibility.
Which ultimately meant what..?
It meant he would just have to find another avenue for escape, that's all. Perhaps the Witch would see his pitiful state and overconfidence would make her slip up. Make her risk getting too close to either mock or deride his state, and then he'd have her, his revenge and his blood-lust sated in one go. She just had to get within arms reach. That was all he needed. One could fantasize. It could also double as yet another distraction from the charbroiled flesh of his feet screaming for mercy. Another breach in the containment spell caused his body to flinch. From the curvature of the globe above, a pouring stream of water splashed back into, but otherwise missed his enchanted silver cage. The hammering of his heart was no different than if it had actually managed to scald him. It was the anxiety of knowing the acid was coming, but never knowing when it would happen exactly next, that truly tortured his mind. The pain was inevitable. He just... couldn't prepare for it's randomness.
Perhaps he could try thinking positively again?
Well, he had set out with a goal in mind when he left frail, wounded, silent, suffering Trevor Belmont, waiting for him to return home. Beautiful but broken Trevor, and his plaintive requests for Alucard to stay by his side. How easy it could have been to give in, but Trevor's voice was stolen from them. How could he stand by while that boastful musical sound was ripped from his grasp? How was he supposed to just carry on without those desperate wet little moans in his ear when his fangs penetrated Trevor's flesh? The Witch needed to pay with her blood. So he had gone out to find her slinky inky little familiar, and he'd been victorious on that front. Alucard had succeeded in finding their prey when no one else had. But his success had also lead to his current state and cruel fate. Without admitting defeat... He could admit he was in peril. Grave peril.
Perhaps, instead what he really needed was to envision the good. Visualize it. Manifest destiny and all that. Flinching once more at another crash of water from overhead, he fixed his sights out into the gloom of the lake and visualized the good that would come once this trial was overcome. He saw the Witch dead, fallen by his feet where he was happy to forget her. To his other side lay that statuesque terror and her other cronies. The stones were still his, under his protection and secreted away for as long as he would be around to safeguard them from fools. The Castle still banished to the Void, where such an entity of Chaos belonged. Ugly business of hunting a Coven finally behind him, he would return to the Lost Commune with his lovely whole Belmont, complete with his angelic voice, and simply live. He'd show the handsome Hunter off to all the friendly faces waiting back home, and likely even Leila. Every morning Trevor would come to slip into his bed... Into their bed, where he'd fall upon that pale porcelain flesh and devour it. His prize. His trophy. His goddamn right.
Trevor's image was so clearly pictured, he could almost reach out and touch him. Unique blue-grey eyes set against such pallid skin, and fanned by warm chestnut locks. Elegantly refined when viewed from one angle, but just a turn of your head and the same man would appear salt of the earth. Bewitchingly beautiful in one stride, but darkly debonair by the next footfall. Impossibly strong as he was fragile, somehow at the same time. Both the image of purity, and of that purity tarnished. Hunter and prey. Through all these fluid changes in Trevor Belmont, never one settling for too long, there was one through-line the Dhampyre could count on. That being Trevor Belmont would love him, no matter what. Alucard belonged to Trevor, and Trevor, in kind, was his. Visualization so painfully powerful, so painfully real, he leaned forward into the cage bars, uncaring of the burns. Even if it was an image, he wished so greatly to touch it. He missed Trevor so terribly after just the first night, and it had now been days. The image of that sharp angled face drew nearer, and crazy or not, his lips met those rouged ones between the hiss of the silver enchantment.
This... isn't right.
Trevor's lips were not rouge, but pale pink. They only bruised such a pouty colour after locking lips for an extended period of time or, as Alucard delightfully had discovered, after sliding along his aching sex to pleasure him orally. Trevor's nose was not so flawless, but dusted with faint freckles you could only really see when the Hunter stood in full sunlight. And his face... Trevor wore a twinned scar, half made by his hand, the other half completed by his father. Two demon's having left two separate marks that made up the whole bisecting the left portion of the Hunter's face. This... Was not his Hunter. The Dhampyre recoiled from the bars and the false vision, shocked to find that too perfect face drawing closer still.
The shadow monster... Lilû. Or rather, Arden, as it is called by these women.
Arden's inky membrane was peeled to it's shoulder's, allowing it's hair to spill free and splitting apart deeper still in a steep V-shaped plunge down it's chest. Behind the athletic shape of it's body swayed a long whip-like tail, coil and wag mesmerizing if watched for any length of time. It's wings were very small in this encounter, impish in both size and utility. Alucard was starting to suspect the black coating was of a certain density that could be spread or compacted, but a limited resource all the same. That this Arden used it as it saw fit in the moment, be it armour, wings, or an enchantingly waggling tail. Those familiar blue-grey eyes were watching him, but unlike the ones the Dhampyre usually found himself lost in, he could not pick out any thought, emotion or intention in these. That this imposter had slipped into his prison while had been distracted with overcoming his pain in order to tempt him with those matching features...
His teeth were bared before he'd even thought to sneer at the hateful demon. His show of contempt did nothing to the shadow before him, as curiously, it kept watching him with it's own small playful smile. It was... rage-inducing. “What do you want, Arden?” A pitiful rasp was what had become of his voice. A ghost of it's former timbre.
The fake too-perfect visage of Trevor Belmont tilted it's head slowly one way, and back. As it tilted slowly the other, studying him, the Dhampyre found he did not like the sudden connection made in that even it's mannerisms were a poor mimic of Trevor's. Trevor's famous Belmont Pause, done in demon-form, complete with that quizzical head tilt. That it's body, even though crouched before him, had a nearly unnoticeable, but deliberate sway. A subconscious draw of your eyes to it's athletic form, all the better to charm you into lowering your guard. That Alucard wanted to give in to those charms was as infuriating as it was intoxicating. The cloying perfume it wore grew thicker.
“Why do you look like that, Arden?” His voice rasped in demand, burns along his body temporarily forgotten. “Is it a trick of yours? To mirror what I desire?” When those unique blue eyes kept blinking slowly and that little smile spread wider, Alucard hissed. He did not have the strength in his voice to snarl. “Answer me, you sorry excuse for a demon! Why does your face look like that!?”
The mimic's grin widened further still just moments before it bounced up from it's crouch and landed on top of the silver cage. Alucard recoiled by instinct, falling back against the burning bars behind him to peer up at the shadow looming over. The membrane seemed to protect it from both the enchantment and the silver, so he thought. But as the blackness peeled back even further, melting away from it's pale forearms and shins, the Dhampyre's eyes could only stare wide as it's porcelain flesh remained unblemished from the bars. A trick of some kind? What demon flesh was not branded by consecrated silver? One pale clawed hand slipped down through the bars to pet at his head, startlingly, smooth arcs catching and slicing through the strands. The Dhampyre could not move in spite of knowing he should. He had to keep away from the bars. Every second spent touching them was shortening his life, and the more of him touching them, the faster his timer ran out. Still, the fear of this unknown, unfathomable mimic rooted him in place.
Then the water came. The breach coming along the bottom of his prison, and the devastating crash into his cage sent him spinning. Lungs and throat burning from inhaling and swallowing, he could only lay against the silver choking for a disorienting length of time. When he dared open his eyes - still intact, he made note of the positive - he could see the Shadow studying him from above. It's face seemed somewhat perplexed. As if it had no comprehension of why he was making such noises or grimacing. It was entirely possible it did not understand he was suffering. Empathy was not a given with many animals and demons. Alucard did wish it would stop looking at him, however. His pride was damaged enough as is without having such a pristine pretty face observing his failure.
Whatever it was Arden saw in the pathetic scene on display made it purse it's lips. It dismounted the cage with a small hop, and crawled over to the front. Seemingly without any effort or any magick that Alucard could sense, a single finger reached out to tap the seal on the door, and with that, the cage door popped open. When the Dhampyre was still too stunned to move, Arden seemed to decide it would come in to get him instead. His ankle was grasped, and in no uncertain terms Alucard was dragged out onto the damp bedrock with ease. The crippling fear of the unknown warred against the immense relief he was no longer being barbecued by holy silver, neither coming out on top. So he stilled, and waited for what the Shadow would do next. Which was to start crawling towards him, for the first time intent clear in it's eyes. It seemed... Hungry. Arden being hungry was how he'd winded up in this situation in the first place.
Alucard could not stand. His legs cramped from crouched confinement, and his strength sapped from Arden's last meal and the numerous acid baths in a cage. Panic pushed him to scoot away, but of course the healthy nimble demon had him before he could get far enough away to give another attempt at standing. “What do you want, already?” He rasped in an uncertain tone, in spite of being fairly certain he knew what it did want. “What are you doing?” He tried again when the Shadow was looking him over carefully, as if taking stock of his weakness. It was smelling him, drawing closer in a crawl. It's head low to the ground, it reached his bloodied charred feet and leaned lower still to... lap at the wounds.
The Dhampyre was petrified. Only when his lungs began to burn did he realized, so petrified he'd been holding in his breath. The monster finished with one seared edge and moved onto the other side as Alucard watched, slowly realizing that where that tongue had touched, the most acute sting of his pain was no more. The deep ache in his bones remained, but the sharpness was gone. Methodically, Arden moved from one foot to the other, and when finished with that, crawled further along his body to lap at burns on his shins, and on his thighs above the gauze bandages Julius had applied for the glass cuts on his knees. The agony made bearable by it's ministrations, it took his hand and moved on to his arms. Alucard began to breath more calmly, and focused on the positives. He was being given a no doubt brief reprieve from the cage burns, and the ones already sustained were being treated. As the Shadow crept around behind him to lap at the wounds on his shoulders, the Dhampyre collected enough of his wits to seize the opportunity he had, and hastily undid the gauze along his knees, re-purposing them into a suitable covering around each of his mangled feet. Now if forced back into the cage, he could safely crouch and play Keep-Away without any mandatory contact. The small victory brought a smile to his lips. Just a brief one... but it was enough for now.
Focus returned to the demon caressing his skin, he felt Arden's hands grab at his hips to lift and push him onto his knees. Caressing touches maintained while it dipped it's head lower to lap at burns along his lower back, hips and flank. The sight of it would have no doubt been comical from an outsider's perspective, but since there was no one else here, and Alucard preferred to be in less pain than more, he obediently kept where he was held and allowed the demon it's whim. From within that state of submission, the antithesis of what his Moroi instinct was demanding, Alucard came across his second brilliant epiphany. Arden had called him the 'Pretty One' on more than one occasion now. Whatever it was, it was certainly a demon of Desire, without question. And as a fellow Desire demon, he knew he would keep the object of his desire out of harms way for as long as he was interested in it. Surely this Arden was no different? If it wanted him, it would dote on and play with him for as long as he kept it fascinated by him.
With a nervous shuddering breath, he allowed gravity to pull him forward until he'd caught himself, and walked his hands a little further out before kneeling on his forearms. The arc in his back from forearm to knee could not have been a more obvious invitation. One animal presenting to the other it's opportunity and permission to mate. An opportunity quickly seized, the Shadow mounted him, and the Dhampyre surrendered, lowering his head to rest forehead against tightly balled fists. Shame and embarrassment heated his face, but with no one else around to witness this total act of submission, the Dhampyre simply grit his teeth, closed his tearful eyes, and prayed it would be over before too long. That the mechanical sensation of such a skilled demon's attention felt so pleasurable only made the shame Alucard felt worse.
Traitorous moans were escaping in spite of his best efforts to keep them contained, when he hit upon the third epiphany of this encounter. As Joachim would always say, free sex was just free sex amongst demons. This act really didn't mean anything if only he could stop being so damned human all the time. All it was, was a pleasurable distraction from his pain and his containment, and a chance to enchant a bewitching demon and ensnare it in a spell of his own making. Grit teeth relaxing into a wicked smile, he braced his hands firmly against the bedrock and pushed back against the assault, taking back ownership of the act. He'd chosen this. It wasn't being done to him, or something to suffer through. Running with the affirmation, he twisted, rolling them over so that he could look down into the eyes of the demon he sought to seduce from a more confident position of power.
Rolling his hips and allowing his voice to escape without shame now, he gazed deeply into cobalt pools and mustered every shred of his Will he could. Be nice to me, Arden. Treat me well and I will be ever so nice to you in return. His lips curled into a smile. The Shadow's cloying, maddening perfume was thick. It's scent and the pleasure between them all he could register. The movement he maintained even after his body tensed with release, until he felt the demon below him finally give in, and even longer after still, if only in a gentler relaxed pace. Arden seemed to enjoy the post-coitus cool down activity, running it's hands playfully along his body as he drew out every last residual pleasure between their mating act. Alucard leaned into Arden's touch, inviting more exploration and even more opportunity to imprint himself on the other demon. See how sweet I can be, Arden? Wouldn't it be fun to leave this place and play somewhere more comfortable?
Trevor's too perfect twin gave him an appraising look, and smiled as if pleased with the assessment. Clawed hands gripped his hips and urged him to still, until it could lift him off it's softening member. For the first time during this encounter, it's lips parted to speak. The dual-tone of it's voice just as uncanny to his ears as the first he heard it. “The Prettiest Pretty One is too clever. Too sneaky. The Pretty One will have to do. This one has decided.” With the proclamation made, Arden's inky membrane melted further away, exposing it's true intention at last.
“O-Oh...” Alucard started with a surprised stammer. Unless his eyes were deceiving him, then it appeared the Shadow Monster was intersexed. Beyond the definition even, as it looked from a cursory glance that both reproductive organs were intact and complete. The Dhampyre closed his mouth and took a deep breath. He'd never encountered such a thing before, and he'd been around the globe several times, throughout several centuries with several companions. It was clear what this Desire demon wanted now. And now it seems I may have my bargaining chip, Arden. Thank you.
“This one thinks the Pretty One will more than do.” Arden's twinned voices chimed musically. “The Pretty One is tasty and very powerful.” It reasoned out loud. “The Pretty One will make a good protector.”
Such a simple desire for a simple demon, I suppose. Fucking Joachim was right again.
Fixing as genuine-looking a disarming smile as he could across his lips, the Dhampyre leaned over slowly, telegraphing his every move so that the demon below did not grow alarmed, and reached out gently to lay his hand flat against what medically was termed the hypogastric region of Arden's lower abdominal region. Where a human or Vampyre female's uterus would be, and where he assumed so was the Shadow's. He forced his hand to caress the area while he worked up the nerve to take a stab in the dark. Really... What did he have to lose?
“Do you want to make a baby, Arden?” His voice while still raspy, was able to pull off a purr to his desired effect. The Shadow responded positively to the tone, but he was not quite sure the question was understood. So, quickly thinking back to what he'd heard during his paralysis, and just how the Desire demon spoke in such fragmented broken terms, he simplified his vocabulary accordingly. In another purr he asked again. “A little one. You want?”
It worked.
“The Pretty One will make a strong little one.” The battling pitches of Arden's voice affirmed readily. “The Prettiest Pretty One was so violent. Scary scary.” Cobalt blue eyes shut, as if trying to hide from the memory of what Alucard could only assume from the context clues... Perhaps was Joachim? “This Pretty One is gentle. This Pretty One will protect little one.”
“I want a little one.” He lied to the demon's face, keeping that soft hand caressing the same section of skin as his mind raced. There was nothing left to do but take the plunge, and hope his Dhampyric spell could carry his lies to what the Witch had classified as an ancient demon. This Arden all ready wore Trevor Belmont's face. Perhaps like Trevor, it could also be caught in his spell if it also really wanted to be. He had to try. “The Pretty One is weak, Arden. Pretty One is hurt. No little ones can be made while the Pretty One is hurt.”
“Lay still. This one will do. Pretty One can rest after.” The demon sat up to take hold of his waist, the strength of it all ready winning out over his own as it tried to maneuver him back below it's body.
“Not good.” Now in a barely contained bit of a panic, as in truth... He really didn't want to have a baby with a shadow monster, he insisted he could not fulfill Arden's request in the current state he was in. “The Pretty One is too hurt.” His voice sounded convincingly forlorn about the whole affair, at least. “Too weak. Little one will be weak. Little one will die.” Thinking fast, he adopted the Shadow's quirk in an effort to further endear himself towards it. “Sad sad.”
The Shadow grew still as it contemplated his lie, and Alucard forced his rueful expression in place, playing a distraught prospective father-to-be, if only he wasn't so damnably tortured and locked in this prison, to a tee. After another demon copy of Trevor's Belmont Pause, the Shadow pulled him closer, back comfortably into it's lap and began to pet him once more. “Pretty One will get better?” Dual voices inquired, seemingly having accepted his lie as truth. “When?”
As skilfully as any actor on a stage, the Dhampyre softened his expression and leaned into the soothing hands as if he wished nothing more than to seek them out and bask in Arden's touch. His own came to cup the other demon's face. It helped greatly that if he unfocused his gaze, it was easy to pretend it was Trevor he was returning such affections towards. So he did pretend, and he carded through too-long sleek chestnut locks of hair as he sighed wistfully, closing his eyes. It was just a game, right? He could play pretend. It didn't mean anything to him, but it could go a long way with Arden. So he leaned in and pressed his lips against the smaller demon's. With his eyes closed, it almost felt like Trevor.
Keeping their faces close enough to share breath, he opened his eyes to stare into the familiar cobalt blues and whispered sweetly. “The Pretty One must eat. Hungry hungry.” Request started, he laid it all out on the line to see if Arden would bite. “The Pretty One will die down here. Must leave. The Pretty One will never get better staying. Never have little one in this place.”
Alucard waited through yet another long-drawn demonic Belmont Pause, willing his charms, lies, and logic to take root in such an enigmatic demon of Desire. His breath caught when the demon's open expression instead drew into a vicious one. The demon pitch of it's voice the more dominant, Arden pushed him off onto the bedrock effortlessly where he landed hard on his ass. “Tricky tricky.” It intoned. “Always tricks with night-flyers. Esteffi wanted the Pretty One. Esteffi is of this one, so this one catches for Esteffi. The Pretty One will stay.”
Keeping his act in place, he did nothing but continue to look pitiful and forlorn, keeping his voice plaintive and soft. “No trick. The Pretty One is dying. No Pretty One soon.” It wasn't like he was lying on that one front, either. Sooner or later down in this dark pit with the constant energy drain and injuries, he would expire. As if to punctuate his confession, the water prison's containment spell buckled the worst he'd seen yet, the fear of the impending acid wash pulling a genuine reaction of terror from him. The pain was coming, and it would be the worst yet, he knew. With a wailing cry he covered his face with his hands. If he could just keep the water out of his mouth and lungs this one time... Just this one goddamn time...
The rush was deafening, but the pain was oddly non-existent. He wondered briefly if he had finally expired. Certain he was not so close to death's door to have died just yet, and that the Witch would have many more days to torture him yet. Or so he had thought?
“Fear fear.” A soft angelic voice whispered in his ear, with a hint of a devil lost inside.
With a fierce tremble, Alucard pulled his hands back from his face only to find himself not dead but instead being cradled by the smaller demon, black soundless wings flapping just enough to keep them suspended in the void above the bedrock. After a quiet moment, those wings slowed and together the demons touched back down. Alucard moved without thought, but through adrenaline and emotion. He threw his arms around the Shadow, grateful to have been shown that shred of kindness. To have been spared just that one agony out of so many there was to follow. The Dhampyre clung to his saviour, fearful of the next breach. There would be another. He just didn't know when. It was the not knowing... that was the torture.
“The Pretty One fears.” Arden's voice was still more choir than anything else. In those blue-grey eyes now watching him, Alucard finally saw some of the demon's emotions. The Dhampyre would swear he could see empathy. The Shadow Monster was a complex demon after all, he surmised. Which meant, if it could feel empathy, there was a chance it could also be moved to act with compassion.
“Scary scary.” He whimpered in agreement, final epiphany striking him just as he did. This Shadow not only wore his beloved's face, approximated his mannerisms and even copied his thoughtful pauses, but it seemed that just like how it worked on Trevor... Alucard's naked vulnerabilities could move this demon to take action. The Dhampyre was more certain than ever, that Arden could be moved to compassion. “The Pretty One needs to leave. Pretty One will die here.”
Another copy of Trevor's Belmont Pause passed before the Shadow's lips parted. “Esteffi needs.” The dual tone of it's voice evened out, back to equal ground for the war to begin anew. Still, as alien and removed it's voice sounded, it's eyes seemed to have an apologetic light to them. He was carried back towards the silver cage, Arden's tail making a return to pull open the door for the monster to crawl inside along with him.
“Please don't, Arden.” He begged as he was placed back inside against the searing silver, still at a loss as to how the Shadow was not equally harmed. Would it be able to teach him it's trick if only he could ask it? “It hurts. The cage hurts the Pretty One.”
“Esteffi needs.” He was told again. The slam of the cage door the final say on the matter. Again, without any magick that could be sensed, the seal on the door returned. How the creature performed such feats was deeply puzzling, and he wished he had the luxury to figure it out.
“Please...” The whimper trailed off as the Dhampyre saw the Shadow hesitate before the edge of the watery prison wall. Please find it in yourself to help me, Arden. Please take me away from this place with you. If you do, fuck it, we'll make that baby you want. I'll do it gladly.
Inky membrane crawling back up it's skin, the Shadow turned it's head to look at him one final time before it's features were obscured. “The Pretty One must stay. Esteffi needs.” It was a cool detached voice that informed him of his prison sentence, but it grew softer as the creature continued. “This one... will come back. This one will let the Pretty One out of the cage, if it is good. For a small time. The Pretty One will help Esteffi soon. When Esteffi is done, this one will care for the Pretty One, so the Pretty One can be strong again. This one does not like killing. Messy messy.”
Alucard watched the black shape fade into the murk of the lake, far beyond what his eyes could see. But he had a fairly good idea which way was the way out now. The air vents above had tempted him at first, but their narrowness and unknown point of exit were a dangerous risk. Even if he'd been willing to take the risk, his misty forms were so far beyond him in the current pitiful state. Not even the easiest of his shape-shifting forms - the bat - could be maintained. The option was out. However, if he could just save enough strength to try... It was possible to follow Arden's path. He was not Vampyre, but Dhampyre. He may be able to survive long enough in the natural spring water to swim out of this prison. With enough strength in reserve. He just needed to be stronger and free of this cage to try.
With careful small movements, he shifted back in place to that painful crouch, thighs and hips screaming at being forced back into such a position so soon after days of maintaining it. A welcome relief, his bandages courtesy of Julius, worked to keep his feet free from the fire. Now if he could just stay as he was, he would win the game of Keep-Away. He would regenerate well enough with the last bloodmeal he'd partook being only a handful of days passed.
Alucard allowed himself to smile. To focus on the positive and visualize the good.
He'd made a new friend. One that wanted to have him sire it's young, so it would be back to let him out of his cage to complete the task. If he was good, before then. Alucard... could pretend to be good. And when Arden came back to let him free, with his strength in reserve he would dive through that shoddy containment spell and swim his way to freedom.
He was in peril... But not so grave as before.
He was not defeated yet.
Notes:
Trevor asks for Yoko and Julius' help via Hammer and a note in his journal. The Hunters agree they need to stick together and no one else is allowed to go running off solo in the woods. So Trevor's got to get better, because they can't drag a half-dead guy around who isn't Moroi, and they can't split up to babysit him. Trevor waxes poetic about how Alucard won't stop idolizing him and that he needs to even their playing field and make right what his actions broke.
Alucard tries to distract himself from a few days of torture due to a shoddy-ass containment spell that keeps failing and letting some fresh water in to sear his flesh. He's kind of losing it still. He makes "friends" with the Shadow Monster cause it's wants a baby, and he's apparently what Shadow Monsters think makes a good baby-daddy. Alucard manages to manipulate the demon - point to the Dhampyre for out-sexing the sex demon this time. His odds of survival increase.
Chapter 34: The Witch
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
October 2037 ~ Lost in Memories on the Lakebed of Horrors
Sheer curtains, golden in the setting sun, flowed on a warm breeze reaching gently into the secluded rose-hued sanctuary that had a long time ago, been the marital chambers of Vlad and Lisa Țepeș. Hushed breathy laughter shared between two half-drunken fools filled the air between the passing of birdsong into crickets, in amongst the occasional knocking into furniture, and the swishing whisk of silk and linen fabric. The Dhampyre's hand on the Hunter's tried to guide them through the steps of the ballroom dance he'd recalled the ghosts in the dance hall of the Castle perform, with varying degrees of success. Whether it was the wine, or the fact that neither man could remember who was supposed to be leading, or most probable of all, the other hand the Dhampyre had laying against a cinched fabric bound waist, who could say?
After further careful thought... It was most certainly the gown's fault. That the Dhampyre had dressed this particular porcelain doll layer by layer, from delicate silk undergarments so vastly different from prior worn braies and under-tunic, to long stockings garter-cinched high in place, fine quality chemise nearly translucent enough to see the finger-loop-lacing hemmed breast-band, and finally with a silky in feel linen fitted dress the colour of the sky on a clear day. The calming hue chosen by the Hunter. The exciting cut and tightness of the bodice, the Dhampyre's. As was the dainty hairband complete with gathered white ribbon, placed so perfectly in hair trimmed of dead-ends, and curled through determination and spite. Curls losing their shape with every bounce and toss of a head, as the Hunter's equally spiteful tresses refused to be anything but as straight and rigid as their owner was want to be most days. At least they took to the oils rubbed in, in order to give the healthy sheen the Dhampyre was enjoying as the fading light caught each strand.
“You know, I have always wondered what it would feel like to twirl a lovely lady around on the dance floor.” The Dhampyre confessed in a hushed tone and chuckle. “I must say, I do like the way the fabric billows out while you're spun.”
The lovely lady in question gazed up into his eyes with cool steel coloured jewels. How could such a cool hue of blue smoulder so? A question for the ages. The Dhampyre was transfixed on those pale pink lips. Their smile spread and parted to speak. The lady was suddenly bathed in darkness, her voice the low gurgling of a large body of water.
No... No that's not right at all.
The lovely lady in question gazed up into his eyes with cool steel coloured jewels. Jewels that smouldered and sparked, setting alight the Dhampyre's passions. Pink lips parted and a breathy sigh of a voice rebuffed in no uncertain terms, as was the lady's way. “You'll still have to wonder, I'm afraid. This is hardly a dance hall.” Eyes burning with desire, the lady insisted. “And I am no lady.”
This of course drew out a mirthful purr from deep within the Dhampyre's chest. So typical a response from such an unorthodox Hunter. “Any floor you can dance on is a dance floor, in my book, Trevor Belmont.” With a twirl back into his arms, he encircled the Hunter completely and simply beheld the thing he adored. Revelling once more in how perfectly the Hunter fit in his arms, as if he were made to be in them. “As for your adamant protests... I am afraid I am in accord with the late Mrs. Belmont's assessment. You are perhaps the loveliest lady I've ever laid eyes on, and I'm certain you would have made an excellent bride. I almost wish I had decided on the bridal gown now.”
“It is just the clothes.” The Hunter continued to protest, fierce flush creeping into high cheekbones.
In response, the Dhampyre lasciviously roved his hands anywhere within reach and pulled the pretty doll close enough for him to feel the Dhampyre's arousal in full form. The whole little scene playing out by his design was doing wonders for his passions. “Oh... I don't think it's just the clothes, Trevor. I think it's the one modelling them. That you can even say such a thing after having worn such finery so often in the past, well... Methinks the lady doth protest too much.” With a playful spin, he twirled the beauty into the side of the mattress, enjoying the view of the swishing fabric as the Hunter caught his balance. “Now there is a sight to drive a man wild.”
Half-seated with a hand on the bedding, the other held against his chest as his wine-addled senses caught up, lips parted in surprise... The vision of a perfect little maiden waiting to be ravished shook a head full of loosening curls and... Was soaked in cool water and murky gloom. The warm voice that should be entreating him, instead a roaring crash. The passion that should be burning in his gut, instead firing across his flesh painfully. So much pain.
No, no, no! That is not how it goes at all.
The vision of a perfect little maiden waiting to be ravished shook a head full of loosening curls and was in that very moment, bathed in the perfect shaft of rose-gold light. The sky-coloured gown now appearing cornflower blue, still cinched so invitingly, accentuated the quickening breath under the tight bodice. The Hunter's own arousal growing by their little game, or from the silk against his skin, or perhaps even just by the very nature of being looked upon with such open hunger by the Dhampyre. Those lips parted sweetly, confessing even sweeter. “There is no protest about these garments at all. They are very finely cut, and your selection of them shows you have excellent taste. I am not even protesting that they hang ever so flatteringly on my frame. The fabric is of stellar quality and they do look good on me, you must agree?” With that playful hand running along his own body in the Dhampyre's chosen style, coyly flipping the skirt about, those smouldering eyes entreated him to close the distance. “I'm just afraid you are going to be disappointed when the pieces underneath this finery do not correctly match up to what should be, once you do decide to unwrap your gift. After all... I am no lady.”
The Dhampyre's hands lifted the doll to better settle him against the pillows more comfortably, leaning between the folds of the fabric and silk stocking covered legs, over the delightful little creature whose beauty both blurred and went beyond definitions of male or female. “Banish the thought, and any others in that same vein. I will enjoy any packaging you come in, be it silk ribbons or a burlap sack, but what I desire has not and will never change. The only thing I want to unwrap and find, is you Trevor.”
Blush touching all the right features to excite the Dhampyre now, the Hunter held his hands out for the Dhampyre to take them, staring into his eyes for such a pregnant Belmont Pause. That expression held, entreating gaze and whisper quiet panting out those velvet lips, bid the Dhampyre to lean in closer, so close they may as well have kissed and be done with it. He waited, however, sharing breaths and loving connection, until the Hunter exhaled his final confession of the eve. “Oh Adrian... You are the only one whose seen all of me. You are... the only person I want to let know all of me.” Emotion overwhelming the little doll, he shook his head again, losing more curl.
Yes! Yes, that's how it went. Only I was too stupidly intoxicated with wine and lust to realize how important what he was saying to me then truly was... That moment was the real first time Trevor Belmont confessed his love for me. What a fool I was to have not realized.
The Dhampyre, oblivious to how important and potent the moment truly was, lost as he was in his game, closed that last gap between them to capture those parted, pliant, panting lips. Clasped hands and tongues dancing together with far greater talent than drunken feet could have. When the Hunter broke away to catch his breath, the Dhampyre pulled him into a tender embrace, turning his head to rest on the warm chestnut hair and the ribbon adorned headband. Content to hold his pretty doll while it gathered it's better senses and watch the fish swim outside his window.
...Fish? No...No. The birds. There had been songbirds hopping from branch to branch.
The Hunter's arms moved from where they lay flat against his chest, to return his affection, Encircling around his back. The touch igniting fire where long tapered fingers splayed. White-hot fire. Pain. The touch was agony.
Agony..? No. No! The touch was warm. Gentle. He touched me so lovingly. The doll had lain me down on the bed instead, and climbed on top to better unwrap 'his Dhampyre'. I peeled that blue dress and chemise off first, but asked if he would keep the rest on. The way his manhood was straining against the silk of those delicate little laced small-clothes was driving me crazy. The peeking strips of thigh between lace and stocking just as much. I thought by then he would have had enough flattery and compliments, as he has such a limited tolerance for them before he thinks I am just teasing. But he surprised me. He let me toy with him and tease his nipples through the lacy breast-band, laughed when I told him how adorable the hair ornament made him look, and took every single other compliment I gave him even as he started to thrust into me. I couldn't take my eyes off him even if I tried.
Midway through the pleasurable assault, the Hunter removed the hair band in question to place on his own head. Seeming to be amused with the result, the Hunter did not quite giggle, but it was something very close to that. A drunken titter of sorts, perhaps would have been the more accurate description. But in the Dhampyre's mind, the sound would always be equated more heavily with a girlish titter. The Dhampyre spent their entire remaining time together in the days before they needed to leave Lupu trying to get the Hunter to make that musical, magickal noise again. Frustratingly, he never would. Just that one single instance, when a beautiful doll pushed repeatedly into his body so maddeningly, and pressed him down into the plush... Hard... Burning bars. He was burning up. He couldn't breath. He couldn't-!
I really can't breath!
Acid. All around was acid. Submerged, inhaled, swallowed. For far longer than he could hold his breath normally, and he hadn't even the luxury to take one before the deluge. This was not how he wanted to die. Drowning in acid. Struggling in agony until the final moment slipped by. The void drew closer, but some survival drive in him would not allow his mouth to open voluntarily and inhale the final liquid that would kill him. To end the suffering once and for all. He wanted to live. He wanted to see Trevor, be held by him, and comforted. The Hunter he missed so terribly. Why did he leave the precious doll when Trevor had asked him to stay? What was more important than the simple request to be with the one he loved so dearly? What could have possibly been more important than Trevor Belmont?
It was dark and he could not see anything, the witch-light of his prison long since faded. The acid coughed and hacked out of his shredded airways in sputters, vomited in spurts. Skin so ravaged and tight, he could barely move from his splay against the enchanted silver slowly killing him, though he knew he must. He was losing the game of Keep Away. Cold and hidden from the world, the Dhampyre choked out a pitiable wail. Everything was agony, his broken incomplete heart most of all. He'd never been captured, imprisoned, or anything close to where he found himself right then. Alucard had never suffered torture in all his time. Time was a concept he could no longer keep without humans around to help mark the start and end of days, but he knew it had been less than the year... The year counted before a fractured mind shut down to protect itself... That Trevor Belmont had suffered the same fate. How haunted Trevor appeared when he stared at his slash-scarred wrists unaware Alucard could see his distress. Alucard had sympathized then... But he truly understood now. The hopelessness weighed against the will to keep on. He wept in the dark because he knew, now. Knew what Trevor had suffered through. But in all honesty, he wept most of all because he knew what it was like to suffer so himself. He was in pain, he couldn't do anything about it, and weeping was the only outlet left. The energy to do even that soon left him. It was just the burns left to feel. Everything else was a void.
For a moment, it looked as if the light at the end of the tunnel had finally come for him. Heart heavy with remorse and loneliness, he wondered what death, true death and not his Moroi existence, would be like. Was there such a place as heaven or hell, or were those simply multi-facets of the Veil between? It did appear he was about to find out if there were endless wine parties with the world's greatest thinkers and artists, and it wouldn't be so awful if that is what lay at the end of his long road. Think of the opportunities to finally ask to have the correct interpretations of such artists about their works. To ask William Golding if when he created the character of Jack Merridew the idea was to show how easy one was to corrupt without social constructed morals, or if the character had been evil all along, only unleashed. Alucard was firmly of the opinion the child was a little bastard right out of the womb. Alas, the answer would continue to elude him, for it was not the great yawning of some metaphysical Pearly Gates that converged upon him, but a supernatural orb of witch-fire reigniting at the touch of a loathsome, foul stain upon the lakebed bedrock.
Flickering hues of cyan and turquoise rolled across the High Priestess' aesthetically pleasing, if one was into that sort of thing, curvaceous form. His eyes could not help but make note she donned only a single layer of clothing to keep away from outright exhibitionism, as her hands guided the now charged orb of light back into the void above. All the better to illuminate his pitiful form and take stock of how her captive was faring. Alucard wished he could have found the energy to sneer, instead being left hoping the hatred he harboured was sufficiently communicated with his eyes. Although it had to be admitted, it was hard to look menacing and wrathful from such a prone slump in a cage.
Minutes passed where the Witch and Dhampyre stared each other down. With the opportunity presented, he made sure to fix her features firmly into his memory. Aquiline nose, above average height, soft but full curls of hair cascading down her back. Her skin a tanned colour now more bronzed from the last time he lay eyes on her. Summer had just passed, after all. While darker on every physical trait, she shared more than enough bone structure and features with Yoko's family for him to assume she was Spanish at least in some capacity of her heritage. Or possibly Moroccan. It was hard to tell. There was not any detectable accent when she'd spoken earlier. More noteworthy was that her undergarments and hair were soaked.
As there was no sign or scent of her familiar, it stood to reason she... had swam down into his prison herself? If she could do that, then surely he could manage to swim out given the chance? Unsure what he was to say to the bitch when his peeling bloody lips spread wide enough to bare his fangs, he found his death-rasp of a voice, no more than the sound of dried reeds on the wind, cracking a poor gallows joke. Who was he kidding, it was half a joke, at best.
“Lady. You're going to have to work on your shitty warding seal.”
Against all odds, his enemy found the comment humorous. A musical noise escaped her vile throat of which the Dhampyre just fucking hated to admit was not unpleasant to his ears. “I will not argue about that.” The raven-haired harlot mused. “This construction is truly the worst conjuration of mine in recent memory.” Failure shared freely, her bare feet stepped around the small perimeter of her warding spell, inspecting the flows that had gone into it, shaking her head in disbelief. “It cannot be helped. It was a last minute plan. I am not accustomed to keeping captives, and yet a cage for a Vampyre was a tricky enough puzzle as is, without the time-constraint.” A quick glance back in his direction and she corrected softly. “Dhampyre, I mean. Apologies. You must get that a lot. Is it... frustrating to constantly never be seen for what you are upon the first encounter?”
Wincing in pain from the searing bars, the Dhampyre in question ignored her inquiry. His crackling husk of a voice exhaled nothing like the scoff he'd intended it to be. It couldn't be helped. “A cave full of murdered hunters would say otherwise about your habits on keeping captives.”
This darkened her features considerably, which pleased the injured suffering demon in her care just fine. In a level tone and with a measured look she informed him. “Those men were never captives. They were hunters who chose to come after my Sisters and I. It's a dangerous career path, that of a hunter. They knew the risk when they signed on. What I am not in the habit of, my Dhampyre, is rolling over easily for death.”
Recalling her dehumanizing description of the man he loved, he did finally manage that desired sneer to press her further. “What of your 'sacrifice' then? Where did you get that one? Did he also come for you and your Sisters? He must have, since you kept him such a long time.”
“I am not here to discuss hunters or that sacrifice.”
“Too bad. Your sacrifice is the only thing I would like to hear about. Enlighten me on where you found that man.”
Through pain and grit teeth, the Dhampyre watched the High Priestess' dark scowl spread through every fibre of her being with a growing sense of unease replacing the pleasure. She stepped closer, as close as it was possible to and still remain safely out of his reach, and in the full illumination from her witch-fire, studied him in an eerily familiar manner that caught his breath. Dark coils of curls followed the lead of the head tilting to one side as she pondered, scowl fading into an unreadable expression, tilting back into place, only to be slowly tilted the other. There she paused in that position, the ghost of someone else almost taking her place in his vision, as she thought very carefully over how she would humour him with a response. A familiar looking mannerism. Not unlike a Belmont Pause. Alucard was starting to wonder with a sense of dread if Trevor's habits had simply been contagious, or if there was something more to these growing coincidences.
When the eerily quiet woman deigned to give him her answer, she kept her level and measured tone intact. “I did not find him.” A cryptic response if there ever was one. “As I have said already... I have not come here to discuss that one. If you are to be insistent upon the topic, I will leave you and try again when you are in a more cooperative mood.” Cooley observing his general state of being, she gave him what looked to be a rueful smile. Either she was a damn good actress or he was so close to his end that she genuinely found pity for him. “However, I am not so certain you will be able to discuss anything if there needs to be a next time.”
While the Dhampyre was loath to do anything even remotely close to what she wanted or expected from him, this was not exactly the wisest moment to lead with his damnable pride. Months and hundreds of man-hours had been spent trying to get where he sat now, if not in quite the same physical state and definitely not in confinement, but any dialogue with this High Priestess would be advantageous for when he finally escaped. It was more obvious than ever that she knew more of the mystery behind Trevor Belmont's predicament. It was no fluke that the anachronistic Hunter had been the one to end up on her sacrificial alter after all. And who knew, perhaps if she was so keen to pick his brain or make small talk, she would keep the water at bay while she did so? A literal half-dead man could dream, could he not? Still, knowing all that to be fact, and this was likely his one shot, his pride would not let him outright agree to her terms. So he took the coward's way, keeping quiet long enough for the Witch to get the hint that he was waiting for whatever it was she had come here to discuss.
His juvenile pettiness in the matter brought some amusement back to her eyes and tone. “Your sub-species of Desire demons are always so exhausting to deal with, are you aware of that fact? It is no matter, I suppose. I will allow you as much of your pride spared as I can, but I do very much wish you had the straightforwardness and direct approach shared by Wrath Demons. There are no riddles, games or stubbornness with them. Very honest demons, in my opinion.”
“You will have to forgive me my nature. If it helps, I am feeling fairly wrathful at this present time.”
This drew another scale of musical notes from the irksome Witch, and in tune, another pang of annoyance for the Dhampyre. He was not here to be her clown or her fool, though he supposed that was out of his hands at this time. “I must apologize again, that was not fair of me to say. You are as you are meant to be, nature and all. It is not a crime to have been born one of your kind, but rather to be celebrated. You are a perfect Desire demon, my Prince.”
“Please tell me you've not come all the way down here to preach to me about the Arcane Rights or the Human-Demon Integration movement. I started the band you've now hitched your wagon to.” A question posed without the groan desired. He was too tired for consistent attitude and being a sassy bitch took real effort.
More musical notes filled the air before she could answer him. “In a roundabout fashion, what I ask will touch on those topics. I've come in hopes of gaining an understanding of your motives, Demon Prince of the Castle, as I believe it is possible to win you over to my side of this war. That you will see in time that history will say this is the correct side, and then you will help me with what I need.”
“Oh, I can't wait to hear how you will convince me of that. Should be rich.”
“I agree, fair Demon Prince. I believe it will be fascinating to finally understand how you can stand before millions on the world stage preaching peace between our kin and the ones who hunt us, pleading for acceptance instead of demanding it, and in the same turn raise your hands against us to slaughter those you advocate for. Please, enlighten me, as I am clearly unable to follow your logical reasoning.”
“Then you must not have tried very hard, High Priestess. The funny thing about peace and acceptance is that it must go both ways, and always there must be one courageous side to walk that road first. I agree wholeheartedly that you have every right to live as you are, who you are, for as you so succinctly worded, it is no crime of yours for being born with magick.” Fire in his gut temporarily beating out the sear of silver on his flesh, he found a modicum of strength to sit up briefly, if only to better stare into her jewel-coloured eyes and glower. “But your actions, High Priestess, are! If you cannot see how slaughtering a room full of hunters for a blood ritual you concocted to reach into, of all the things the bloody Veil, seeking of all things, the bloody Castle, the very Chaos entity no man, woman, demon, god or otherwise should lay claim to... If you do not see how fundamentally fucked up that is, then we have absolutely nothing to discuss!” Rage now meted out, the strength left his frail body, leaving him to fall back into place against the agonizing silver bars. Always, always, the world was full of fools who would not leave well enough alone. Even from beyond the Veil they would never be safe from the Castle and the ambitions it sowed in the most damaged of souls.
The reaction from his outburst was not the one expected, although the Dhampyre could not even fathom what response he'd thought to receive. The woman tilted her head in that aggravatingly familiar fashion he did not wish to be reminded of from her of all people, and pursed her lips. “Fair Demon Prince... You are quite presumptuous in your arrogance.” The High Priestess sighed with a hint of sadness. Maddening. The woman and her stolen mannerisms were utterly maddening! “Please do not think that this path was my first choice. Not my tenth, or hundredth, or even thousandth. This was not an easy choice, it was a necessary one.” Stilling to gather her own emotions, something painful flashing briefly across her features, she closed her eyes and tried again. “This conversation has started off poorly... Completely on the wrong foot, as it were. Allow me to entreat you again in a less accusatory fashion. I am quite certain you have your reasons, which you believe to be valid, and I am eager to hear them. Truly.”
Before the Witch could finish her second attempt at an accord, she was at last witness to the unstable field she'd cast, buckling under the pressure. The Dhampyre, beyond the ability to even cry out, simply closed his eyes and prayed the crashing waves would take the High Priestess out as well. Of course, he should have known he would not be so lucky. Not even close. Channelling swiftly, the Witch stomped hard against the ground behind her, causing a pillar of stone to raise from the bedrock, just so perfectly timed so as to avoid the direct onslaught. The splitting tide did not entirely avoid his silver prison, so he was forced to suffer the indignity of having to vomit up more acid in front of his prey, trembling weakly in the aftermath. It was not necessary to look in her direction to know she was drawing ever closer, close enough he could finally grab her... If only he actually could. Every god and demon be damned, how he wished he could just raise the hand required to close tightly around that throat.
The Witch lowered into an easy squat, knees pressed together, arms folded on top, and chin resting on her forearms, and studied him for another long moment. The scrutiny brought a flush a shame to his face, though he doubted it could be distinguished from the rest of the red blotchy patches on his fired, peeling hide. From the corner of his eyes through the mess of his tangled hair, the Dhampyre thought he saw her resume that familiar head tilting. Insult to injury, if his failing vision was correct. “How interesting. For some reason I had believed your human heritage would have protected you from this Vampyric weakness. I see you are not so different on that front.” Another thoughtful noise passed and she sighed again. “This torture was not my intention. It is no wonder you have been having such... Wrathful feelings towards me.”
Breaths coming short and shallow, he managed to rasp. “A little late for the olive branch, I'd say.” Exhaustion and agony played equal parts in pulling his eyes shut. Good. Less of her to see, the better.
It was a soft hand reaching into the cage to brush the matted mess of hair plastered to his face away from his eyes, that startled him back to alertness. How he wished he could reach his own hand out in kind to tear her apart... But he couldn't. Moroi pride being what it was, let alone the pride of the Scion of Dracula, it was hard to admit he was currently... At her complete mercy. With the small act of aid administered, he could now clearly watch her smooth features and tilting head, scrutinizing every inch of him.
“Stop doing that. You remind me of someone.” Rasped or croaked, who could even tell? The woman just needed to stop copying Trevor like that before Alucard went insane. “I don't wish that habit of theirs to instead remind me of you.”
It was the Witch's turn to be startled, though she kept her poise, as well as the hand on the side of his face. That unwanted appendage on his blistering skin travelled, sliding to his forehead, smoothing more mangled hair, back to his cheek, to his jawline, neck and finally resting on his chest. “I apologize. The habit is an unconscious one. Sort of a family tick we all seem to pick up.”
“You can take your hands off me while you're at it.”
This request was obliged only after some contemplated time. “You are quite feverish.” She shared after another moment of silence, placing the offending hand back on her knee. “It hardly seems fair, now does it? To have no protection against your Vampyric weakness to water awarded by your human half, while your Vampyric side does nothing to prevent you form ailing like any old human. You are sick. A Moroi with a cold. It's so far-fetched a concept. Baffling.”
Feverish? I have never had a fever in my life. It's... not possible. I am Moroi.
Blithely ignoring the brief flash of his fangs he mustered at her obvious lie - Moroi's with fevers right? What a laugh! - the Witch carried on in her smooth tone. “I have read in the Church's publicly available archive excerpts all about Dhampyres. I... suppose it is true after all, about how such a miserable existence and poor prospects are the general fate of your kind. It makes it all the more impressive that you are still here, surviving for so long...” Voice growing soothing, the Witch continued in a hushed, intimate voice. “The entry that I read, it was your face I saw in the accompanying drawings. It stands to reason that the facts in the archives were... Well, they had to have been your words, weren't they?”
Unable to do anything but approximate a glare, the Dhampyre did not even waste the energy doing that. Ultimately, what was the point? What was the point she was driving at with this line of questioning? What was the point in her coming down here for any sort of discussion if she wasn't here to ask after Trevor Belmont or the stones? What was it then that this blasted wretched woman want from him? The third degree and perhaps even more torture over the whereabouts of Walter's precious stones he'd been prepared for. He could understand if that had been what was on the menu. What he could not understand was whatever the fuck this lady was on about at current. Seeing no other option of getting out of this particularly bad episode of the Twilight Zone, the Dhampyre closed his eyes and tried to focus on the swift shallow breaths his body was making. The breathing pattern... Sypha had made such breaths when he sat at her deathbed vigil. As had many other friends he'd watched slip into the beyond when their times came. Cheyne-Stokes breathing, he was almost positive it was later classified. However, he'd never been aware of the dying being so... Aware of their own incoming death. Now that would be extremely funny. To up and die on this woman while she was blathering on.
How unfortunate it was that the woman had other plans for him, it seemed. The seal of the silver cage was broken, and with some effort on her part the High Priestess managed to pull him from out the contraption of her design, that was mere moments from draining him beyond his ability to bounce back. Captive successfully retrieved from the cusp of death, the Witch nodded to herself and sat down properly against her death-trap, most of the Dhampyre cradled in her arms. With their difference in height, she was easily able to look him eye to eye and gauge his condition. “That was close.” Just how close seemed to have shocked even her even a little. “You were speaking and everything. Had I not been able to read your aura I would have had no idea you were...” Her voice trailed off in an internal maze of thoughts. Emerald eyes danced with so many things, none he could be bothered to make sense of. He was beyond exhaustion. He wanted to be anywhere in the world but to be trapped here with the Witch. He did not consent to this foul woman touching, fondling and caressing him. The only thing he wanted was...
The vision of a perfect little maiden waiting to be ravished, perched upon my bed. Her eyes are cool cobalt steel, but they are burning blindingly bright when they meet mine every single time. Her breath is quickening with excitement as she waits for me to fall over her smaller frame, and envelop her. The lovely high-class finery peels away in delicious layers as I reveal the true maiden underneath, one scrap of clothing at a time. Somewhere in-between completely divesting her, I finally see the real Trevor Belmont. The fragile soft one hidden under all those armoured vestments, leather, and silver the world forced him to hide beneath for protection. The Trevor Belmont who needed his Dhampyre to take care of him. That real Trevor Belmont sees me truly seeing him... Sees me truly knowing him... And surrenders wholly. Completely. I will surrender too, because there is nothing left between us after that. I will always be his strength when he needs to feel delicate, if he promises to always keep his adoring eyes on me so that I can feel seen. I will keep him safe and cared for, if he will save me from the loneliness closing in all around me. A handsome prince and his fair lady. A romance fit for a storybook. All that is missing is my happy ending.
Shaking the Dhampyre roughly, the Witch breathed almost a sigh of relief when his eyes cracked back open to stare flatly back. “There is nothing to be ashamed about.” She reasoned breezily, confusing him to no end. “I've read about that happening more than once. I believe the term is called Angel Lust. I was afraid you had actually expired for a moment.”
Seriously what is up with this lady? Taking stock of his surroundings, still dark, gloomy, damp, and at the bottom of an acid pool, the Dhampyre's head fell forward as it lolled against the High Priestess' shoulder and then... He could see what she was babbling about. Sure. Fine. It was fine. Let her think his incredibly stimulating Trevor Belmont pre-coitus fantasies were just a case of the ole Rigor Erectus. The Terminal Erection, as it was also known. In a way, she wasn't too far off the mark for he had been lusting after an angel. From his downcast view, he was angled quite well enough to next watch her slice open her own thumb using his limp clawed hands, fresh scent of it setting his eyes aglow with crimson hunger. This she pressed to his lips and just... Goddamn, did he really hate that he was about to drink her blood to stave off death. That she saw fit to stroke his head while she nursed him back from the brink, the final humiliating insult. Maddening. So... utterly maddening.
Allowing him to suckle away weakly at the trickling blood on her wounded digit, the Witch stared far off into the murk of the underground lake, eyes tracing the stray dart of a fish here and there, truly seeing nothing. When she was able to get him to pointedly raise his eyes to meet hers, and seemed content he was not about to lust after any more angels in the immediate future, her voice carried in a low murmur meant for his ears alone. “Well... with that bit of a fright out of the way. That archival entry on Dhampyres I was speaking about... Your experiences as such a rare endangered demon species near eradication, are how I had actually intended to start this dialogue. My anger at the death of my Sisters by your hand... It is a bitterness I can still taste, I am afraid, and I am letting it cloud my intentions with you. But I know inside, that I cannot fault you for reasoning as you do, when you have not yet heard mine. I wanted to tell you my story.”
Because she seemed to expect him to, and he still needed that trickle of her blood in order to live to fight another day, Alucard snapped his eyes back up to meet the Witch's and waited. Truthfully, this was by and large far from the first time the Dhampyre had been forced to sit and smile while others prattled on about the rare exotic species he was, asking questions you'd never ask a human. It came with the job, he'd learned, by stepping into the public light back in the 19th Century. The hit list was usually a loose collection of does the sun burn his skin, did he have a reflection, and could they possibly see his fangs, if it wasn't too forward of them to ask. It always was, but he always flashed those pearly whites anyway. So let her ramble on if she so pleased. Perhaps there would be something useful in these tangents after all. It wasn't like he was doing anything else productive in that given moment anyway.
“I read that you once served loyally in your late father's army. The Count Dracula slain in the Demon Wars. That at one time you had been the perfect Heir to his regime, until a sudden change of heart in the 15th Century.” Bejewelled eyes found his, but of course, she seemed to look through him rather than at him. He was more than fine with that. “When I was a little girl, I was such a happy and innocent creature. The village I lived in was very remote, where everyone had no choice but to keep their heads down and work hard to survive, be it farming, hunting or scavenging, you name it. It was hard, but a good life. What I remember most fondly of all is that everyone in the village was just like me. I grew up having no idea there were people who existed that could never feel the auras that came so naturally to me. That all mops did not polish the floors on their own accord, or that fire had to be started with flint and kindling. My normal was magick incorporated into daily life. Never did I see harm, malice or evil in my little village. That all changed the day the Church and their hunter lapdogs came through with torches and polearms. That I survived lay solely at my dear heart's feet. He was my saviour. I am alive because of Arden... The demon you encountered in the woods. Of course, I later did learn that it was actually Arden who had been the true target of the Hunt that lead those savages to our little hamlet. We were all accused of summoning demons and sacrificing babes. But when those torches started to burn my friends and neighbours alive, that was the day I first learned what it meant to be one of The Other. My friends and family... Myself... We were not human enough, as far as those men were concerned, to be allotted any human decency.”
Something about that, her choice of words, dislodged a memory from deep within the Dhampyre.
But Sypha... You are human. So am I. I remember telling our diminutive little Mage just so on that desperate wagon flight from Wallachia, hers and Trevor's two small babes nestled in the back. Trevor had made me believe I was more than a demon. But what was it that she did say back to me? That's right... That we were... That Sypha and I were not human enough. I know this feeling. It hurts, it's isolating, but it doesn't excuse anything this woman has done.
Rasp still dry reeds in the wind, his whisper quiet voice captured his captors attention. “All of us... Others... Have sob stories, High Priestess. What makes yours more important or painful than the Witch who is not currently trying to bring Chaos into this realm? What makes you think you have the right?”
“That's partially why I feel it is my right, in fact. It is true that so many of us share similar tragedies. The same horrors being inflicted upon our kind again and again, and we always are forced to take the high road. Standing politely, demurely to the side, heads hung low asking 'please stop crucifying us' of Church officials and their governments. Oh please don't torch our homes, wild mob of drunks. Please don't kill my cat because you think it's a devil in disguise, Sir knight.” Bitterness heavy in the woman's voice, she forced it back to her measured level tone. Her tangent was teaching the Dhampyre a little. At least now he knew that her poise was an act. There was a fierce temper in this one. A hot anger agitating a raw wound. “I would not dream of speaking of or assuming to know your experiences, Demon Prince, but I can speak to mine and many other like myself. We all have these stories to varying degrees. Except the choice collared Church protected pets. Such obedient little traitors to their kind. The Aulin's, Belnades', Renard's, to name a few. Even being such the wondrous Desire demon you are, fair Prince... There is yourself to some degree as well counted in that mix. You are, after all, the only Moroi on this entire blasted rock who is permitted to walk freely into a room filled to the brim with dignitaries and not have the armies called in.”
“After decades of open scorn, death threats and dread, High Priestess. It wasn't the cakewalk you make it sound. My actions and convictions have earned me the trust to do just what you are deriding. Perhaps you should learn from them, internalize them, and put them into practice. You may find you too can walk freely one day.”
Pausing a moment to pull her thumb away and re-open the would, she returned it to his lips and smiled bitter-sweetly down. “I am certain is was not a cakewalk, as you have phrased it. But perhaps our fair Demon Prince has now lived with the privileges afforded to you for too long, that you no longer fully remember what it was like to be powerless, small, alone and feared. People like my Sisters and I do not get such opportunities to earn that trust you've been granted. We are instead subjugated, controlled, tagged and often bagged just for living and doing what comes naturally to us. I spent all of my youth towing Church lines. Hiding what I am. Doing as I was asked. Fleeing when the inevitable accusations of witchcraft came down from the priory, as I was always found out. I just could not stop being what I was. It is in my very blood. They may have well asked for me to cease breathing. But through it all, I always protected myself and my saviour. Together, we gained Brothers and Sisters, and lost them all time and time again. But I never hated people for the perpetual cycle of rejection and exclusion. I hated the perpetrators, of course, but never the human race as a whole.”
Ahh, yes, it was all so clear to the Dhampyre now. It was a tale he'd heard thousands of times by now. The details, dates and countries always changed with every telling, but the story beats always seemed to hit the same, none the less. This latest retelling was sure not to be the last either. “This is where you will tell me how that changed, I take it. The greatest tragedy suffered thus far.”
“I suppose you are partially correct. It is a tragedy that put me on this path, but not one so catastrophic as you are expecting. It was more a personal tragedy. A personal... insult. You see, one day I picked up the first written piece about you, my Demon Prince. 18th Century exploits of yours, defending the waking world from the night hoards. How you stepped from that one battlefield into another of entirely a different nature. The battle to be seen for what you are; A Noble Demon. You stood as one of humanities saviours and proudly proclaimed, 'Here I am! Look and acknowledge the Other that will stand with you!' That piece I read stunned me. I read it over and over, always thinking... How brave of this man! How gallant a sight this Demon Prince must be to ride in on a pale horse and kick the hornet's nest on behalf of my fallen Sisters, his fallen brethren, and every wretched creature caught in-between. To demand the basic decency that we all be allowed to simply live, same as them!”
Peering deep into those unfocused eyes of hers, the Dhampyre could see the spark in her jewel-coloured irises. The drive behind her great ambitions she shouldered threatening to spill out into the small underwater prison. What visions for the future was she seeing as she spoke, he wondered at last intrigued, and was it really that she was trying to tell him... That he, Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș, was the one who had instilled that ambition within her in the first place? It certainly sounded like she was. Fire inside burning the cloudy dreams into clarity, the High Priestess once more turned her emerald gaze on his crimson, and smiled endearingly at the sight of him. As if what she saw in her arms was not the crippled, ravaged body on the brink of death he truly was, but rather a fairytale come to life.
“I must confess, I fell in love with the very idea of you instantly. Finally, a protector stood for our kind. I read every scrap and shred I could get my hands on about you. Every public address, essay, newspaper, and written word articles. I watched every speech, listened to every radio broadcast, and even saw you on stage a few times. You were, if you will forgive my heavy sentimentality on the subject... My hero. The Noble Demon Prince to all our kind, but to myself most of all. I knew you only through your words and the sound of your voice for so many years, but if you will permit me a moment of girlish whimsy, fair Prince, it only helped my fervour along that you turned out to be so handsome as the cherry on top.” This was overshared with what seemed to be a self-conscious, embarrassed laugh.
So this High Priestess liked his work. He certainly hoped she didn't expect him to turn around and tell the Witch he was a fan of hers. Did this woman hope to endear herself towards him with such a statement? Why else would the confession even be made? The very thought of quaint girlish affection outpouring from the vile woman responsible for imprisoning and butchering his greatest treasure night after night in service of her blood sacraments, turned his stomach. The sacrifice she refused to speak of, waiting alone in his home for the Dhampyre to return to his side. When he did, he vowed here and now that he would never leave that blue-eyed beauty ever again.
Her tale, long as it was, still had not reached it's conclusion. With a self-conscious inhale to squash her embarrassment, she spoke. “Yet, the more I read and followed your journey, your honourable mission to free us from our shackles, the more apparent it became to me that you were never going to succeed in changing the world's mind. As a slap in the face to us all, you were being tolerated, strung along as a political talking point to garner support and condemnation equally, and used for pandering ostentatious gains by those far lesser than your noble self. Your clear message and cause dissected and picked at by the carrion of world's governing bodies, and the pieces they deemed acceptable debated over without our kind's input. And now here we still stand after more than a century of advocacy. Witches are fine so long as they are registered and pay for licences to practice the very gifts we are born with. They want Man Beasts only if they are micro-chipped like a pet dog or cattle. Fey confined to underfunded overcrowded reserves? I've even heard succubi are getting a trial run in Italy, so long as they agree to be a guinea pig for an experimental drug that will alter their pheromones potency. It's unacceptable for us to have to change our nature to fit the human world. It is not acceptable for anyone to have to alter their body's composition or chemicals, and surrender basic rights every other normal human would never be asked to. We are not meeting humans halfway, we are outcasts and slaves, rolling over at their command! There can be no compromise, and no high ground for us, my Demon Prince. You'll never change the world with your methods, it's been proven.”
Once again... Another so quick to dismiss my life's work so easily. He wondered if it was even worth the debate for one so set in her violent ways? The compassionate rational part of him would say yes, of course she was to be challenged, and given the chance to grow. The Dhampyre had been on the very same precipice she now stood once and walked back into compassion. Evil as her deeds were, and as personal as he felt about it given her particular selection of victims and sacrifices, even this woman deserved the chance to choose the right path and redeem herself. It was never too late. That was something he had proven.
Swallowing all of his seething rage, all of his drive for vengeance, his hatred and contempt, the Dhampyre stepped back towards that endless compassion Trevor had taught him... Because something inside him said that Trevor would want him to try. Even now, and even with someone like her. Trevor Belmont would hear her out and give her the chance to do right the thing. “If my methods are so inefficient, what is superior in the method you hope to employ? What about your situation, mine, and all the rest of us could you change by reaching the Castle? What makes you think the very Chaos entity that drove my father to war and slaughter for a millennia will be any different for you? What are you going to do with a power that has done nothing but corrupt and tempt others to fight over it, ceaselessly, since time immemorial?”
“I am not Vlad Dracula Țepeș. I do not seek to spill my pain and anguish out onto the human race in a genocidal effort. I do not seek to subjugate what's left over. I do not seek to kill, in spite of the fact that others seem to always want to kill me. Do not for a moment believe that is my End Game, fair Demon Prince.”
“You have not answered me, High Priestess. What do you hope to accomplish that I cannot, just by getting your hands on even a sliver of the power beyond the Veil? What can you do with that power, that you cannot do right now for your people with your own?”
“My Sisters and I want to live freely, openly as we are, and not suffer persecution for it. There is not a single country on Earth that permits our kind that.”
“Your wish is shared by me, High Priestess. Yet you may have noticed, I am not trying to bring Chaos back into the world to accomplish that goal. I am much older... and wiser... than I was when I served in my father's army. His ways do not work. His generals and his underlings ways do not work. My own ways from that time... Did not work. Change takes time and persistence. I am committed to both. In the meantime, I protect who I can. If you and your Sisters are so endangered, I can find you a place of refuge. It's not all doom and gloom out there.”
“So I have heard. A network of villages secreted away in remote places just for ones like us. I will admit, I was tempted to accept the first time someone asked me if I would like to submit myself for review and acceptance into such a haven. But in the end, I could not stomach the thought.” The Witch gave him a rueful smile with an edge of disgust twitching at the corners. “There are far too many of us to fit in your little havens, and I cannot stand the thought of being saved when others just like I suffer still. We should not need your little village prisons to be safe. We should just be able to live. I want us to just live. To do that...” Here she fell silent for a moment, carefully choosing her next words. Alucard waited patiently, genuine intrigue holding his tongue, for her to find her way to the conclusion she'd decided. When she spoke, it was in even more hushed a murmur, but there was a fire to the words. A smoulder. “I... cannot protect and free my people from a world that fears our potential. To pull off such a feat I need... to be beyond feared. I need to be Terror incarnate. Once I am too powerful to be challenged, I will force equality. That is the only the way for one person to change this misguided world.”
“I see... So what is my dying in your magickal prison accomplishing on your road to this goal, High Priestess? What part do I play? Why am I here?”
Green jewels glittered in the witch-light as they fell to look him in his still crimson irises. There was an adoration deep within the eyes fixed upon his own, and the scent off her matched. This was a woman who, while she did not desire him physically in any capacity he could sense or smell, still loved him all the same. It was not an affection he would be returning any time soon, but it seemed that she knew that, and was not bothered by it in the slightest. Her admiration for the Demon Prince still shone brightly. Her heart enamoured by the idea of him.“You have the stones, my fair Demon Prince. With the stones, I will have what I need and more. I do wish you would tell me where you've secreted them away so that I can save us all. Your crown must be so heavy by now. Allow me to relieve you of it.”
So I was not imagining the conversation I overheard... She does know I have them.
Now taking his time to carefully choose his words lest he let slip anything in his weakened state, he forced an understanding, benevolent smile to his lips. The barest of one, but it was all he could manage. “Just because you have the stones, does not mean you get the Castle.”
“Yes, you are quite correct. There is a grave price to be paid for such a ritual to succeed. I have already decided to pay that price for us all long ago. I just needed all the stars to align in my favour to try. With the stones and the sacrifice, this can and will finally be done.”
The sacrifice... My Trevor. How she speaks of you as if you are just gemstone, athame or an alchemical ingredient. As if you have nothing to give the world but your blood and death rattle.
“What is so important about this sacrifice of yours that you need specifically him for your ritual, High Priestess? It is obvious by your collection of dead hunters you are not short for blood.”
“Another question about him, I see. What is so important about my sacrifice that you are keeping him so close, my Demon Prince? That is the real question here. I have told you I am not speaking of the sacrifice to you already. When you tell me where I can get the stones, it will be easy enough to bring him back into the fold. It was easy enough to convince him the first time.”
“Convince him..?”
The Witch spoke over him in her agitation. “I can see you will not let this matter concerning the sacrifice go, so I will ask you a question instead. What is the very definition of 'sacrifice?'” When he did not answer as quickly as she'd like, the High Priestess supplied him with the answer. “To suffer the loss of, give up, or destroy something good... in the name of or to obtain something better.” Letting the words sit between them for a bit she at last whispered. “He is such a good thing. Heart and soul so noble and pure. He is the perfect sacrifice.”
“There is no one else that will suffice?”
“I am... not speaking about the sacrifice. And if you are not speaking about the stones, then I will come back in another time. Your little near-death experience has given me something to puzzle over, fair Demon Prince. The energy about you was too strong for something so weak. It makes me wonder if there is not some great power within you separate from your own aura. Wouldn't that be interesting if it were true? I do wonder what it could be, if it is.”
Do not even think about the implication she is making, you idiot. He scolded himself. Don't give her any reaction or a even a slight twitch to make her think she's got you on that front. We don't know anything about the stones here, lady.
When he remained completely neutral and motionless in her arms, she sighed, momentarily resigned. “It's fine for now. You are very tired. You deserve a break.” Laying him down on the cool, damp bedrock, she climbed to her feet gracefully. He watched her channel with practised ease, the very lakebed groaning under her power. In the middle of his small prison arose a platform of stone the Witch chuckled at as she warped it into the shape of a round bed, complete with stone pillow and an arching canopy cover. The platform stood just about above where the fault-line in her containment spell allowed the torrent to reach. Finished and satisfied with her creation, she half dragged, half hauled his limp body over and up onto it, rolling him into place on the 'pillow'. “There. A bed fit for a King, if I may say so. You will stay nice and dry out of the offending water. I will send Arden down to put you back in your cage where you'll stay safe in place for us later. But for now... You can recover a bit of your strength. We will speak later, fair Demon Prince. I promise you that.”
Seemingly satisfied he was incapable of moving from where she placed him, the woman nodded to herself and stepped back to the water's edge, preparing herself for, what Alucard assumed given the need to psyche herself up for it, a lengthy swim to the surface of the lake. Good to know. He'd make sure to take an extra deep breath when he followed later.
But before the Witch was entirely ready, he let out a breathy laugh which caught her attention. It had been his intention to do so, so when she stilled, he spoke to the back profile of her. “High Priestess, you said you've read everything you could find of me and my mission in an effort to appease me, but all you have done is make it clear that you did not truly listen to me, if you think I was out to change the world.”
While it looked like she was almost going to dive in and ignore him, she paused again and asked simply, eyes still cast out towards the yawning lake. “Pray tell.”
“No one person can change the world. No matter how much power, money or fear they manage to claw together. It was never my intention to even try.” He explained simply. It was easy to explain when it was something he'd been guided towards and taught all his life, even if it has taken a few centuries for the truth of the method to really sink in. “A lesson my human mother taught me. What may seem like huge change is really always happening one small change at a time, rippling forward in time to change another and another. I cannot change the minds of billions. My father couldn't. You will not either, in spite of what you think or what fathomless power you obtain. We can all only hope to change a few small things around us for the better. Even if it is just one single person that we change. They will change someone else. Do you know how I know this to be true?”
“...Pray tell.”
“Because there is a Witch who once listened to me speak, and decided afterwards that she wanted to stand up and save her Sisters instead of running and hiding. I changed you, High Priestess. I hope in time, it is for the better.”
Wordlessly, the woman took the plunge leaving him all alone. The Dhampyre found himself smiling tiredly at the fading shape. Like her pet, she too could be moved towards compassion after all. As the crash of water breaching her shoddy field bypassed his platform, another ghost of a laugh was pulled out of him. Grateful for the opportunity to recoup, he closed his eyes in a meditative rest and filed her plans away for discussion with Julius and Yoko when he finally could escape. He was more certain than ever he was going to get out of this trap, constructed and looked after by not one, but two reluctant killers. If he could just keep the secret of stones and their whereabouts under wraps until he was strong enough to make that swim...
Mind drifting out to allow his body the rest it desperately needed, his thoughts wandered as they wished, upon pleasant memories and fancies, past and present.
The vision of a perfect little maiden waiting to be ravished, was perched upon my bed. Her eyes were a cool cobalt steel, but they burned ever so blindingly bright when they met mine every single time. Her breath kept quickening with excitement as she waited for me to fall over her smaller frame, and envelop her.
“Oh Adrian... You are the only one whose seen all of me. You are... the only person I want to let know all of me.” She confesses, trepidation dripping in her voice, vulnerabilities all exposed for me and me alone to see. No one else has ever or will ever see her like I am seeing her right now.
The real Trevor Belmont sees me truly seeing him... Sees me truly knowing him... And surrenders wholly. Completely.
At the bottom of deep darkness held in a prison of water... Adrian smiled.
Notes:
He's down but he's not out, folks.
Chapter 35: Family Ties
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Steam escaping from the tea cup and kettle resting upon the iron-wrought bench curled in curious ways on the cool November breeze. The sorceress sitting in silence and solitude found watching the mist travel on the wind more alluring than even the aroma of Alucard's fine quality leaves. It was a meditative practice of sorts, she found, that brought her scattered thoughts into focus. There were a lot of them that she had, after all, and boy did they like to scatter about her skull. How was Alucard doing all alone while as batshit crazy they suspected? Where did he go and why wasn't he back yet? Those were a few of the more prominent ones, to say the least. But also, there was the unsettling and unexplained thoughts about how very suspicious and incredibly easy it was for Trevor Belmont to bounce back from near death. The first time they'd found him drained in a cave and carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey, the man had needed several weeks recovery in a hospital to get the all-clear to leave. So what was the dealio? What was so different this time, that the Tiny Terror was up and out for a run with Julius Belmont days after the most recent death defiance? Julius speculated it was just a matter of having had such a good caretaker in Alucard in the months since, that their Grandpa this time around just had more in reserve to pull from for this recovery. Who really knew in what poor conditions Trevor had been kept in before he was rescued, or for how long, right? Made sense, she supposed... But Yoko did find it too fast a recovery. They were going rock-climbing later to help build up his strength. They sparred in the park after dark for the same reason, whips and fists a-flying. It was extremely perplexing to the tired sorceress who was so done with both of Trevor and Alucard's dramatics.
Hammer had left them the morning after the diary invasion, with a promise to be there in a flash if they needed him. While Yoko missed him already, she didn't feel right calling him to come over just because she was feeling lonely and slightly excluded with the two Belmonts buddied up nicely since Alucard left. Jules had offered to take her on their excursions but it wasn't exactly what she had in mind for fun. Although Jules would say it wasn't for fun if she'd said that outright. But really... Come on. The elder hunter wasn't fooling her. This wasn't just about getting Trevor back into descent fighting form. The old man was comparing notes and comparing abilities. Julius was dick-measuring with a younger man. Which was another of one of the many thoughts of hers. Was Julius feeling threatened by the more youthful appearing and nimble Belmont? Trevor may have been the first one to take out Dracula, but Julius had been the one to finish the job proper. He shouldn't feel anything but fucking fabulous about his accomplishments.
Trevor had been reluctant at first, upon waking up almost twenty hours later from where Hammer had put the near hypothermic man down in bed, to do anything that wasn't going out and finding 'his Dhampyre'. Jules along with her assistance had calmly rationalized to him how it was too early to panic, that he was too weak to do anything, and that it was too risky to wander around with no leads. When Julius reminded the younger hunter that he had asked Hammer to ask them for help, because he didn't know what to do, Trevor relented and fell in line under Julius' guidance. That had been the start of the Jules and Jules Junior team-up, and Julius sure seemed to be enjoying it. Yoko had thought Alucard made a good shadow for Trevor... Boy was she wrong. Trevor was a marvellous mimic, and that he looked like Julius so much only made it more uncanny.
Together the two men generally returned early in the morning to eat whatever Julius had prepped before they left and crashed not long after. It was truly a boring, lonely existence for Yoko, holding the fort, waiting on a hope and a prayer for a Dhampyre of his own saner accord to return out of the blue. Her laptop got some use, checking message boards and hoping the Witch would pop back up looking for another chat. Her phone got a lot more use, combing through cloud storage for her family tree, some choice historical photos, paintings and portraits, all while her wallet suffered a bit at the print-shop, and from all the emotional eating she was doing. Aside from all of that and prepping for the discussion, as Julius would stress it, Yoko played with her grimoire, practising the trickier conjurations that she was not so great with. Less fireballs, and more delving, scrying, and purifying. She couldn't make a decent ward to save her life, for instance. Yoko's talents had always lain on the more offensive side of magick, with her Mama and other family members often affectionately referring to her as a Battle Mage. Once upon a time such a term had been a real position held in the Church by some of her family members past. It wasn't like War Witches were a normal thing these days, however, and if Yoko intended to change career paths from Church field agent to Arcane Ambassador, she was definitely going to need to master a few less violent spells. Instead of flexing muscle, she was stressing her brain matter. It was just as much training as the dumb boys were up to.
Tossing her cooled tea into the grass, she filled it with the tepid dregs left from the pot and polished it down, returning everything back inside the warmer interior of the empty home. Alone with her thoughts, she had another one that had danced through her mind every now and then. Every day, Trevor would open the pocket size notebook Julius had bought him to better communicate with them, to a page that simply read in English 'is this an emergency yet?', and wait for their reply. She wondered what he would do when Julius determined that yes, they had now reached emergency status. It would have to be soon, she imagined. Alucard had taken off to 'bark at the moon' several times in the past, per Jules. He reasoned it was a demon thing even Alucard had to cave into once and a while. Wild animals needed to run free, right? Admittedly though, never for this long since Julius had known him, and never under the unique amount of stress and duress he'd left to run wild. So yeah... Yoko was in the camp that this was now an emergency, but like Trevor, she was just waiting for their defacto leader to call a spade a spade.
Feeling restless, her feet found their way into the office. The atmosphere inside felt oppressive with all the categorized volumes of Alucard's work lining the furthest wall behind the coffin. Heavy reference books, maps, schematics, period piece weaponry, crafting materials, all having a place, in such a sterile and organized fashion. Without the Dhampyre's undercurrent of warmth extending out towards his guests, the energy of the space felt frigid. How strange, she mused, to think about Alucard like that these days when for so long she had only known him as the noble, but cool and aloof figure that nothing could touch. That in between all the horrific drama and hurt feelings, having seen Alucard in those brief moments of happiness with Trevor had revealed the truth of the man he was. A kind, gentle, warm and loyal man. His agelessness transformed into youth by the smiles that now came easily, and other-worldliness grounded by the human emotions in his not-so-strange yellow eyes.
Her hands touched the expensive charcoal coat hung over the vacant office chair. It was where Alucard had first placed it, probably removed while typing away another speech, and where Trevor had last replaced it, the younger hunter often slipping it on to sit in his missing boyfriend's chair and worry about him. Yoko had seen him, knees drawn up on the seat, blanketed in the oversized coat, frowning at the empty space in the office more than once. That she found very sweet, if sad. When he wasn't shadowing Julius or fretting about 'his Dhampyre', Trevor had shown them the drawings Alucard had made of his family and friends. Yoko and Julius's had gotten to stealthily learn about their ancestors, as Trevor was eager to 'speak' about them, by answering their questions in his notebook. It seemed like her Grandpa spent an awful lot of his time missing people. She hoped wearing the coat gave him a bit of comfort. She could smell the faint trace of Alucard's cologne on it still.
The office was where the two Belmonts found Yoko still when they returned in the dead of night, only the squeaky off-track wheel of the patio door announcing their entrance. Yoko had been on the leather sofa, staring at the collection of drawings again, with a particular interest in Sypha Belnades and her daughters. Sypha had been a non-conventional kind of beautiful that Yoko found she could really dig. Per Trevor, his first wife had been odd looking too, with strange hair. Yoko had to guess that was just her Grandpa's type. Unconventional and rare beauties. Which was funny since she found him to be so ordinary to look at now that she knew him. Whatever it was that Alucard saw when he looked at Trevor Belmont, outside classic conventional good looks that weren't by any means extra special, Yoko couldn't see what the fuss was about. As Trevor took a seat beside her to also look at Sypha's portrait in her hands, she studied his relaxed features once again. Still nothing. No ideas how it was sex-god Alucard came to be so hot for him. Her scrutiny did affirm he was looking much stronger and healthier, at least. His skin was pale, but no longer see-through, his face filled back in, and a thin coating of padding over bone and sinew was returning to his mid-section.
“Did you have fun playing outside?” She asked lowly, so as not for Julius to hear and correct her. They weren't playing, he would have insisted.
Trevor grinned wickedly, knowing just why she was speaking so softly, and pulled his notebook and pen out.
Do not tease him too much. I believe he is not pleased that I am faster than he is at climbing and running. He is an older man, and very skilled. He is still very powerful and swift compared to others I have know in our profession. It is to be expected that you slow with age. I do not believe he is ready to accept that, however.
Yoko swallowed her snort and covered her mouth with both hands until the urge to give in passed. “You have no idea, Trevor. Jules is a force to be reckoned with even at his age, so don't underestimate him.” Trevor shook his head as if to say 'never'. “I learned how to do this cool trick while you were running around throwing hands at each other in the park.” She shared, giving a small demonstration of the tenuous magickal weave she'd been working on all evening in the garden. With careful concentrated flows, she encircled the younger hunter's pen with her aura and lifted it into the air. Twirling it about playfully in front of his face. “Pretty cool, right?”
Trevor's face split into a wide grin and he snatched back the pen to scribble hastily. You are amazing, Yoko! That is just like how Joachim flies!
“Well not quite, I imagine. I am actually lifting it with my spiritual energy. It took me all dang day to figure out how to even grasp an object. That pen is about as heavy as I can lift.”
Trevor shook his head immediately, scribbling more. No, that is how he flies. He told me. The reason he wears the metal decoration on his chest is because metal is the easiest thing he finds to move. So he wears it to lift himself into the air.
Yoko sat stock still for a hot minute just processing that information. To get what Trevor was saying straight, the crazy wild Vampyre in the midnight blue ancient coat and metal harness, only wore the metal harness so that he could use his own aura to fly? So really, if she thought about it... Joachim Armster, the terrifying nightmare of a demon... Got around by yeeting himself through the air?
Yoko burst out laughing and did not stop even after Julius stepped in to join them and tried to ask what her problem was. There was just something about knowing how every single time that crazed Vampyre had loomed menacingly over her, it was because he was hauling himself up by his aura, that was beyond hysterical. Like a short guy wearing lifts in his shoes because he was self-conscious. The fear factor for Joachim had definitely taken a serious blow tonight. She was forced to promise Jules to tell him later. Her heart just could not take explaining it right that second.
“So how was your night?” She asked Julius instead, regaining some semblance of composure. “Anything of note out in the parks?”
“Nope. All was quiet. If we are being watched or anything, I do not sense being followed around thus far.” The elder hunter reported back. “You've been practising some different kind of magick, I see. Fancy pen trick.” She nodded, unable to talk about the pen trick without thinking about Joachim throwing himself through the sky to run his errands, and subsequently starting another bout of hysteria. “Well, did all your practice make you as hungry as it made me?”
“I could eat, yeah.” She smiled up at the elder brunette. “What's for dinner?”
“Today, the only thing you will eat without complaining. Lasagna.”
“Ooh.” She wiggled a little in place out of excitement. “I do love pasta.” Thinking about the Trevor Belmont health initiative, her eyes narrowed and she inquired further. “You uhh... didn't load it with healthy vegetable and stuff did you?” Julius' smirk was more than clear on the matter. As she watched him leave to heat up his concoction of fake comfort food, she spat. “I hate you sometimes, Jules. I hate you and your balanced diet!”
Stay healthy for Hammer, Yoko. He loves you very much. Trevor's next note passed into her hands read.
Well how was she supposed to respond to that? “Don't guilt me, you little brat. You're the one who would give Alucard grey hair if he wasn't already there.” The quip she immediately regret the moment she could see the distress pass over Trevor Belmont's expression before he buried the apprehension back inside. “I'm sorry.” She said in earnest. “I am really sorry, but I am also certain that he is okay. Alucard has probably just lost track of time, that's all. It's super hard for him to tell how much time has passed without people around him, so he's confessed in the past. He's going to feel super shitty once he realizes how long he's left you to worry about him. Make sure to let him know how much it's sucked, and how much he owes you and I in free snacks.”
Trevor smiled weakly, but nodded. With a slightly stronger smile and a pause for thought, pen touched paper once more. I want to see what fashion looks like in 2037, since I need boots and a coat. I want him to take me to the shops. You should come. I would like to help pick out a dress for you, but I will make him buy you whatever else you want. For making us worry.
“Aww... Actually I think that would be a blast. I haven't worn a proper dress since I graduated high-school. It would be nice to own a stylish grown up gown for once. Do you know a lot about clothes, Trevor? I wouldn't have thought so, what with being a Vampyre hunter and stuff.”
I am French. The word 'am' was so heavily underlined, Yoko burst out in another laugh.
“Fair enough, Trevor Belmont, slayer of Vampyres and mighty defender of fashion.” With a quick look at his filed down and well manicured hands, a return to form from the outright claws he'd almost been sporting that passed few weeks, Yoko made an attempt to sweeten the deal. “You know what else Alucard owes us? A spa day. A nice professional mani-pedi, a facial skin treatment, body wrap, and a massage. The works, baby. Maybe even a new hair style.”
I do not know what half of that means, but okay, I am in. The massages he gives are quite good, so I will be the judge of this professional.
It wasn't quite a squee that Yoko expelled, but pretty close to one at the newfound knowledge that Alucard not only gave back rubs, but that they were good ones. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?” She couldn't help but ask. “You've got a tall, handsome, loyal, filthy rich man who gives good massages at your beck and call. One who is a literal Prince.”
It is not about what a person is that should attract you, Yoko. It should be how they make you feel. He is all those things and countless more. At the end of the day they are not important. That he truly sees who I am beneath all the airs everybody puts on, and still makes me believe I can accomplish anything at his side is why I am lucky. Pen hanging in place for a solid minute, brow furrowing with all the pent up worry and uncertainty the poor younger man was surely drowning in, he added with a deliberate slow and clear scrawl. I miss him terribly and it has been much too long. If we are not safe, neither is he. I feel that this is now an emergency. My night terrors are usually vague impressions and fears, but they are all about him these days. Something is wrong. I feel it.
Night terrors, yeah. Julius and Yoko had gotten used to not sleeping while Trevor was down for the count real fast. Who knew on top of being handsome and rich and patient and blah blah blah, Alucard was also the sole provider of Trevor's peace of mind. The younger brunette had never seemed to have any trouble sleeping with the Dhampyre around that she was aware. With a sympathetic look she made sure to catch his eyes and gave a nod of her own. “We'll ask Jules after supper about it, okay? I think he is feeling the same, he was just waiting for you to be able to hold your own in a fight again, if it comes down to that.” With a warmer look she added. “You look plenty strong to me now, and your English is getting super good. You'd be able to understand us shouting at each other in combat just fine. I don't see any reason for you to not be ready.”
Her assessment and vote of confidence in his abilities brightened the younger hunter's mood considerably. It kind of made Yoko feel warm and squishy inside too, to have been the one to make his day. She followed the slim man out of the office and into the kitchen, stopping to collect the drawings and her folder of print-shop print-outs for her impromptu decided dinner discussion. Whether or not Julius was ready, Yoko wanted to let her lonely grandfather that he was not so lonely after all, even with Alucard MIA. For ease, she made sure to slip in right beside Trevor at the kitchen table instead of at the far end across from Jules as she was normally want to do. Trevor raised an eyebrow at her sudden change of preference, but seemed more than happy to have her close.
“It smells deceptively good, Jules. I can't believe something you've poisoned with health smells that delicious. It should be a crime. A misdemeanour at minimal.”
Julius made a scoffing noise as he served up their plates. “Just pick it out if you are so against not dying early.” But with a bit of a twist of the knife he made sure to tell her. “Your skin repairs itself with vitamins and minerals, Yoko. You'll look like an old hag before too long with your diet.” As if to both tempt and punish her for her poor dietary choices, he then slapped down a bread basket full of Parmesan cheese dusted garlic bread right within her reach. Of course she grabbed two to start with. “Enjoy all those white empty carbs, girl.”
With a tongue poked out, she ripped right into that garlic bread. It was goddamn heavenly. She turned her nose at Trevor and Julius' side salad and tore into the second cheesy, bready goodness, before reaching out to pull her file folder closer and draw Trevor's attention to it. She caught Julius' eyes and gave him a pointed look the elder hunter returned. Without speaking, she could see he understood what her intentions were, and seemingly gave his blessing. He took a deep quiet breath that did not draw Trevor's focus away from her manila folder, and waited for her to take the plunge. Yoko let the man take a few bites of his dinner politely before she completely distracted him from his plate.
Because Yoko was just that kind of gal, she didn't futz about with any pretext and simply slipped her documents free, laying the first of them, her family tree, out for Trevor to look study. “Do you remember when we first met, Trevor? The first time you were awake enough to remember me?” When the brunette nodded she continued. “You asked me if I was related to the Sypha Belnades you knew. At the time I did not know exactly where or how I was related to you, if by blood or not, but I told you we were family anyway. Even if if was through a distant marriage. It didn't matter to me. Do you remember?”
That same sudden warm smile when she had first made the proclamation returned and Yoko felt just a good all over again. Such a small thing to have offered the lost injured man months ago, but it had made him so happy. The man was still injured and lost, in a way, but with the truth of his circumstances out in the open, he was finding his way back to whatever his life was going to be going forward. Yoko was kind of excited to be a part of it, if he'd let her.
Her tapered finger tapped on her name to draw his eye. “Here is my sister and I. We're the youngest generation in our immediate family, as neither of us have any children yet. If you follow along, my mother, grandmother...” She traced her direct-line through some dodgy paths of some of her philandering ancestors but kept on back through the ages until she got all the way back to the 16th century. The name her finger rested on was of a person that Trevor had in Alucard's collected drawings. She pulled out the sketch of Rosa Belnades and laid it next to the family tree. “This is my great great great... many great grandmothers, Rosa. She was one of the first Belnades Church sanctioned Battle Mages.” Flipping a few pages to find Luna Belnades, she lay that drawing over Rosa's and moved her finger up. “Rosa's mother was Luna Belnades. Who our records say was the daughter of one Sypha Belnades... Who is famous in our Coven for having helped one Trevor Belmont defeat Dracula.”
She paused to watch the hunter, mouth slightly agape, study her family tree and the two drawings at hand. The hamster wheel behind his eyes worked furiously and Yoko smiled giddily, awaiting him to come to the same conclusion that she had stumbled into while sitting inside the dim internet cafe, what seemed like forever ago. When he finally turned to look at her, mouth wide and eyes wider, as if seeing her for the first time ever, she couldn't help but reach out to throw her arms around him.
“What isn't written down or recorded anywhere in history that I am aware of, is who the father of Sypha's children, Luna and Soleil, were. But now I know that it was you. You are my super great-grandfather, Trevor Belmont!” Exhilarated at the historical discovery now shared, Yoko held onto the younger-looking man until she could feel his stunned body begin to reciprocate her embrace. When she was pulled in so tight he'd lifted her straight off her kitchen stool, she let out another laugh. “Whoa, careful.” She cried out, as he lifted her in the air to better look at her face. Once he set her back down on her feet, both of them now standing, was she finally was able to let go of the breath she had been holding. With his hands on the side of her face, just looking at her with endless adoration, Yoko felt a blush touch her cheeks. “I was pretty surprised too. You have some older granddaughters in my sister and mother, and a hell of a lot of nieces and nephews back in Wallachia that I am sure are just dying to meet you.”
Seemingly overwhelmed, Trevor just pulled her back in for another crushing hug, and held her there. She was pretty sure she felt a kiss on the crown of her head as well. Being bear-crushed was an acceptable sacrifice Yoko was willing to make for one night. This had been her whole intention, after all. To let the poor suffering man know that he had a lot more support and love than he thought he did. That if nothing else, his tribe had survived and he had a place to belong. From her place tucked into his chest, she was able to peek over Trevor's shoulder to watch Julius polish off his meal in no rush, tidy his spot, and even move their own plates to the counter, probably to save for a reheat, cause he was thoughtful that way, that Julius was. When Trevor finally eased up, still smiling stupidly happy as she was, he turned back to face Julius and just shook his head.
“Yeah, Jules also just found out recently that I am a direct-line Belmont descendant of Leon. Kind of cool, right?” Yoko asked, giving Julius the floor to carry the conversation.
“It's very cool, Yoko. I'm sure it's very cool to find out you have some living relatives as well, Trevor Belmont.” To this, the still smiling Trevor nodded without hesitation, giving her another loving look-over. “I think you need to sit down for this next bit, Trevor.” Julius suggested.
The level tone took some of the giddiness out of the room, but Trevor obliged his request, retaking his place at the table, with Yoko's smaller hand held in his. It was like he could not bring himself to break contact with his flesh and blood after so long without. Yoko was perfectly okay with that, and squeezed his hand back, even more excited for Julius to drop the second bombshell. The elder Belmont held the younger-looking ones gaze for too long, in Yoko's opinion, that the feel-good vibe was almost sucked right out of the room when he finally parted his lips to speak.
“I am sure with finding out your daughters' bloodlines are still going strong six hundred years later, you must now be wondering about your sons. Were I in your shoes, I would.” Julius paused again, agonizingly long as he worked up the courage to continue. Which was just the most bizarre thing to watch, as Yoko had never seen Jules afraid to do anything before. What was it about Trevor that made him so cautious? Was he really so afraid the man was going to take the whip like he'd asked Alucard? “Well... You don't have to wonder.” Julius finally surrendered. Slowly, without any flourish or dramatics, Julius reached inside his coat to where he'd been secreting the holiest of weapons and unlatched the Belmont birthright itself. This he laid out on the table wordlessly for Trevor to acknowledge.
Trevor's grip on her hand tightened painfully as his face blanched and his eyes widened so much, Yoko wouldn't have been surprised if they'd rolled right out of his head. With the other pale hand he reached out, a tremble visible, to touch the Vampyre Killer for the first time since the year 1479, by all accounts. The whip responded to it's former owner's emotions, filling the small kitchen with a blinding, hallowed glow. Cobalt blue eyes closing tightly, Trevor removed his trembling hand and placed it also on Yoko's. With a shuddering exhale of breath, he opened his eyes and waited for Julius to explain.
Instead of using any words at first, the elder hunter also reached out to lay his hand on the Vampyre Killer, causing the same hallowed glow that only the touch of Leon Belmont's direct-line descendants could. When Trevor finally could see Julius was the real McCoy, the elder hunter captured his younger grandfather in his gaze and a small, but genuine smile pulled at the corners of Julius' lips. “I am Julius Belmont. Last of the direct Belmont line, or so I thought until Yoko made her little discovery. I am the Belmont who finally defeated Dracula and fulfilled our family's mission. I am the last Belmont who will ever need carry that burden.” With a hand held out for a simple handshake, Julius stated. “It is my utmost pleasure to meet you properly, Trevor Belmont, as your grandson.”
As Trevor Belmont was too stunned to move, the elder man stood and instead pulled the younger up into an embrace. Because Yoko was still clasped by hand, she too got sucked into the man-hug, which turned into group-hugging, and you know what, she was okay with that too. Based on the hitching movement of his shoulders, Grandpa was having a moment, and that was just fine as well. Yoko smiled at Julius over Trevor buried in the older man's arms and squeezed whoever she had her arms around tighter. She didn't care which one of them it was. Strangely, it was the teary eyed man in the middle of them who was the first one to break contact, reaching out across the table to scribble in his notebook for both his grandchildren to read.
Thank you for telling me. You are wonderful people, and I wish I could take credit for how you've turned out. I understand why you kept it hidden for so long. I would not have believed you when we first met, so do not worry.
“It was pretty hard to keep my mouth shut about Jules, so I guess I am glad I only found out recently. Months of knowing about myself would have done me in, for sure.” Yoko laughed from within her half-hug from Julius.
Trevor gave her another one of those endlessly warm adoring looks and pressed his pen to paper. Can I ask you both something? When the pair indicated he could, his pen scrawled along. Please say you think it is time we go find your other grandfather? I wish to a have a complete family again.
“That's fair, yeah.” Julius answered for them both. “And I do think Dhampyre Gramps may need a hand after all. So we need a plan.”
With Julius in agreement, Trevor threw an arm around each of them for one final lingering embrace before he broke away and fished a small ornate mirror from out of his pocket. It seemed carved from a prism shell, and looked to be if not the exact pocket mirror that belonged to Alucard, then it's twin. With a quick written note to explain, Trevor handed the mirror to Yoko and waited expectantly for her to do... something. Yoko peered over the hasty note just to make sure she understood. Alucard had given Trevor the mirror she now held and told him to give it to her if there was an emergency. Which they had just decided it was.
“What's up with the mirror, Yoko?” Julius asked, perplexed.
Yoko popped it open and studied the small thing, at first not sure at all what she was expected to do with it. Aside from notice her mascara had run a touch. Guess Trevor Belmont hadn't been the only one who had gotten a bit misty-eyed. “Well I am not quite sure, to be honest. It doesn't seem that different from a regular old mirror.” Putting her studied practice over the week into practical use, Yoko prodded at the inanimate object with her essence. It was so much easier to read people and spells than artifacts. There was... something there, she settled on after all. She felt it resist her in an unconventional way. The enchanted mechanism hiding it's purpose by wriggling away instead of outright resisting her. If it hadn't been for all the recent practice, she was certain she would have missed it and assumed there was no magick to be had in the mirror at all. “Okay, it's a bit sneaky, but I think I may have it...” Chasing the skittish enchanted lock around comically, and glad that Julius and Trevor couldn't see her energy scramble after it, Yoko at last pinned it down and forced her way in. The pulse in her hand from the object echoed out and she felt her fading frustration and wicked satisfaction at successfully cracking it carry out on a wave. “Hmm...” She made a thoughtful noise, wondering what purpose was served when the answer revealed itself to her. Echoed back from far-off in the West, came the rapid senses of confusion, suspicion, and then alarm. The aura she felt chilled her spine. She knew it. She knew it intimately.
“Yoko you've gone white. What is wrong?” Julius demanded, taking the mirror from her hands immediately and placing it on the table. Trevor also looked between her and the mirror, concerned.
“I'm all right, Jules.” She insisted in a not so convincing voice. “I think we just found out how Alucard summons Señor Creepy. I think I just called him.” Turning to Trevor now, she regained some of her snark and gave her grandfather a stern look. “Your boyfriend gave you a magick mirror in case of an emergency and the speed-dial was set to Joachim? What the hell is wrong with Alucard?”
Instead of sharing her uneasy sentiments, the news seemed to bring, of all goddamn things, relief to Trevor Belmont. He reached back for his pen and paper and offered up some innocent optimism. That is good. Adrian flew off. He is very hard to track when he flies. I usually have to catch a dozen bats to find the one that is him when he does. Joachim will be able to track him even if he never lands.
“That is a very good point. A Vampyre is even better than a Dhampyre as a blood hound.” Julius agreed with the obvious caveat forthcoming. “The only problem with that is, Joachim hates humans, especially Belmonts, and without Alucard here, I don't think he is going to want to be doing us any favours. In fact, he may be pretty fucking mad we just called him and not his long-time best-buddy.”
Maybe. It is true, he does not seem to care for you very much, Julius. Trevor scrawled out with an apologetic smile up at his grandson. I will ask Joachim for us. He does seem to care for me. A little too much for my liking, but I do not have a problem with playing on his affections.
“What do you think he's going to want for that kind of favour, Trevor? Are you willing to bargain with a nutcase Vampyre?”
The younger hunter tilted his head to the side as he thought, returning it to the proper direction once he'd decided. Joachim will help me because he is also in love with Adrian. The only thing he is going to ask of me, and not for payment, is that I take better care of my Dhampyre.
“I'm sorry, Joachim is in what with Alucard?” Yoko coughed unexpectedly, choking on nothing but her own disbelief. “My eyesight must be going bad because I am almost positive you just wrote that the Creep is the scorned part of a lover's triangle involving my two grandpas.”
Trevor gave her a strange look and sighed. Bending to scribble some clarity, for poor confused Yoko. He is not scorned. Perhaps this is more information than you would like, Yoko?
“Oh no, do elaborate. I would love to know what you mean.” She insisted, completely beside herself.
Remember that you asked. Trevor rolled his eyes and dropped his attention back to his neat cursive handwriting flowing from out the tip of Alucard's no-doubt expensive fountain pen. Joachim is very open when you ask him questions. I learned a lot about demon social structures and customs from him, even more than from our family Bestiary. Specifically, he told me a lot about the hierarchy of Desire demons, because he and Adrian are ones. To be brief, Adrian should have been devoured the first time they met, as he is the weaker of the two and because demons are cannibalistic by nature. Rarely they can fall into a bonding pattern that is more or less comparable to human friendship, and even rarer still, love. The more powerful demon will initiate, lowering their guard. Adrian did not take advantage of it when Joachim bared himself, but returned trust and love in kind. They are in a demon marriage now. It does not matter that they have not consummated it physically like a human marriage. They are in love. So, Joachim will help.
“That... is some interesting lore.” Julius murmured, but left it at that.
Yoko was not so satisfied with just a hastily scribbled paragraph. “Demon married.” She repeated with a hard squint at the notebook laid out before her. “I had no idea that was even a thing. I mean I guess? How else do they make more of themselves? Or I guess that's just straight up sex. I have no idea.” She was rambling now, so she clamped down on her vocal inner diatribe and tried again. “Okay, so how do you factor in, Trevor? I mean, I was always under the impression that not only were demons cannibalistic, but Desire demons in particular were very possessive of their targeted victims as well. You've met Alucard. That sure is one demon real quick to get a hundred percent jealous over anyone just brushing against your shoulder in passing, but Joachim, somehow, is okay with Alucard hopping on your dick?”
The impulsively crass comment caused Julius to choke, but poor Trevor Belmont covered his shock and blush with both hands to clamped over his mouth. Face still flamed, he managed to scratch out. You really are Sypha's granddaughter. Before returning the hand back to hide behind.
“I'm sorry, really. As rude as I was, the question stands. I don't understand why you're not dead, and why Joachim seems to want to take the same ride as Alucard on your dick.” While she really was apologetic for the way she phrased it, it didn't mean she wasn't enjoying how flustered her great-grandfather was getting over her choice words. But good to know great-grandma Sypha was pretty cool, though.
“Shit, I am going to have to write all this down.” Jules cut in, mind ever circling back in on his work and research. “There is nothing in our Bestiary on Desire demon courtship rituals. Demonologists assume it is not so different from our own, but there are definitely some more nuanced and forgiving aspects to it going by what I am hearing. You're going to help me out with this Yoko, since you're a Belmont and as far as I am concerned, my next of kin.”
“Does this mean I get the whip when you're retired?” Hey, a girl had to know these things.
Jules shot her a strange look and shrugged the arm still around her. “I don't know, Yoko. Depends if the original owner wants it back. What do you say, Trevor?”
The younger brunette was quick to shake his head in the negative. I did not want the whip to begin with. Plus, Adrian made me one. I like the one I have now. Thinking a touch, Trevor continued to scrawl. I did ask, by the way, why Joachim is so enamoured with me. He just called me adorable and so oblivious, I could not belong to anyone else but Adrian, who is also an adorably oblivious idiot. So I do not know. This is a lot to write out. Can you both just ask him when he gets here if you're still interested? He will answer you because I am here, and I am Adrian's. Who is his. Something to that effect.
“I definitely will... And by that, I mean I will get Yoko to ask him.” Julius decided for them both. Yoko shrugged cause what else was she going to do? Say no? She was working for whip-rights now as the next Belmont heir. “Finish your dinner, you two. I am going to start loading the car, and when I am done I am going to take a nap. When the creepy guy gets here we'll explain and set out. I am thinking to start where we last camped, since that is where the tree monster sat around all night watching us.”
When Jules left just to do that, Yoko Tetris fit their combined plates in the microwave to reheat and then pulled another print-out from out her envelope to show Trevor. It was a report about the Castle vanishing and Dracula's defeat, but she was most interested in showing him the file's coloured picture of thirty year old Julius. “I'm surprised you didn't suspect anything looking at an older version of yourself all the dang time. Look at him. You guys are so similar.”
I don't look in mirrors. I don't like Paranoia demons.
Yoko snickered and popped open the ornate mirror that belonged to Alucard, the one that had just summoned a Vampyre, and the one she decided would make due for an actual pocket mirror, which is what it appeared to be surface level. “There are no Paranoia demons in here, I just checked. Here, take a look at the picture and yourself, and tell me you can't see the resemblance.” With some insistent prodding she got Trevor to comply eventually, trying not to laugh at how hesitantly he held up the mirror to gaze into, studying his reflection side by side Julius' old photo. She watched him recognize his own face, more or less, and shake his head. “Right? It's uncanny how after five hundred and fifty-whatever years genetics can just spit out a near carbon copy. Nature is cray-cray.”
It's very close. He is bigger than I am, though, and better looking. I could never grow a beard. I am really beside myself with you two. When you have children you think about what kind of people they will be, what their children will grow into. But you never get to know, really. You have your time and they have theirs. I am very lucky. I have gotten to see what my children's children became. Heroes and good people.
Touched, Yoko basked in the feel-good fuzzies in her chest, and retrieved their dinner plates to comply with Julius' instructions. “You just may be my new favourite Grandpa, Trevor.”
*****
November 2037 ~ Mid-eve, following
It was not easy to nap around Trevor Belmont's violent sounding night terrors, but somehow Yoko managed to get a few hours in here and there in between loading up some first aid supplies, a change of clothes just in case, and extra water. Jules had monopolized the limited trunk space with holy water and knives, his own spare clothes, a set for Trevor, a warmer coat, and even a change of clothes for Alucard, just in case. You know, because sometimes hunting was bloody work. Quite literally, and by sometimes in her experience actually meant it was messy most of the time. He of course also had a backpack filled with his usual tablet and gear, and stuffed with those high calorie meal replacement bars. Trevor was the lightest packer, with only one of those small cross-body sling type backpacks that were always labelled and marketed as “tactical” because men couldn't handle calling what they carried around town a mid-size fancy fanny pack. The egos of modern men were so fragile about the stupidest things. Whatever, pay a premium for “man-wipes” 'cause you can't be seen buying baby-wipes. What did she care?
Everyone was showered, cleanly dressed, fed and relatively rested, so they sat around in an apprehensive holding pattern, waiting for their summoned demon to arrive, and not really knowing what to expect when he did. They collectively had butt-dialed Joachim, basically, and based on the aura echoed through the mirror, the Vampyre was kinda pissy. Still, Yoko, being who she was and wanting to get it over with, chose to sit outside in the cool air with her tea like the previous day, staring up into the grey skies to meet whatever was going to go down head-on. The clouds were indistinguishable, just a flat matte painting of grey, without anything in them to distract or catch her eye. So it was quite the shock for her when from one lazy blink to the next, she was staring into the face of an insane Vampyre. Her tea went every which way as she scrambled to her feet, letting out a loud enough strangle of a noise Julius came running. Jules now between herself and the Vampyre, Yoko noticed that 'every which way' that her tea had flown had actually been all over Joachim, and the Vampyre stood up straight to brush the liquid off his coat, hardly amused.
The new coat.
Gone was the decaying lengthy frock as were the rusted metal adorned boots for that matter. In their place was a snazzy slim-fit quilted leather motorcycle jacket, also in that dark midnight blue the Vampyre seemed partial to, and simple black ankle boots. Paired with a simple black shirt and pants. The only constant in the Vampyre's new look was that decorative metal harness worn beneath the fancy-ass new coat because - as Yoko was just remembering now and trying extremely hard not to laugh about it all over again - Joachim needed the metal contraption to yeet himself through the air. Because that was how he manged to hover. Hysterical.
“Which one of you has it?” The Vampyre's level tone did not match the red feeding into his wild eyes, nor the increasing rise and fall of his chest as his temper hung on by a thread. “I am not pleased in the slightest, be it well known right this second. The mirror is not yours but belongs to your master, mongrels. It was a gift.”
Suddenly, the thought of Joachim hauling himself around through the air wasn't so hilarious when Yoko could see he was about to throw himself in their direction. There was a strain around his eyes, and Yoko found her instinct told her the Vampyre had travelled hard as fast to be standing here from wherever he'd come from and it had taken it's toll on his energy. But that oppressive will-sapping aura still slammed into her just as it no doubt did Julius, eyes of the Vampyre gone completely crimson now. Be it because of her recent practice sessions, Joachim's apparent fatigue, or just the fact that she was sick and tired of having her willpower and agency fucked around by demon Force of Will, Yoko drew in on her own powers and shoved back, cracking through the Vampyre's hold. Gazes locked, she took deliberately heavy steps to close the distance and meet Joachim face to face. Without breaking that contact, she reached into her pocket while grabbing his wrist to twist it so that the blasted ornate pocket mirror could be slapped into his palm. Joachim's wild features calmed considerably as he studied her, reassessing his next move in the face of her new-found ferocity.
“I am none too pleased either. Your Kitten gave this mirror to his Bunny Rabbit in case of an emergency.” The Mage spoke slowly, stressing the pet names Joachim was so fond of. “We believe it is an emergency, so we used it. I guess Kitten's intentions were that we ask for your help in such a circumstance. You'll help us?” With a sardonic sneer, she added. “For Kitten?”
“I see.” Was all the Vampyre replied, falling silent and temper slipping back beneath the surface.
He did not pull out of Yoko's grip, and after a while of staring each other down, her sick of Joachim's shit and Joachim oddly demure and still, the sorceress was starting to wonder if she had just won a power play with an ancient deadly Vampyre of all things, and if letting him go would ruin her winning streak. What an incredible shift in dynamics from that last stand-off of theirs in the living room all those months ago. Fortunately for the batting one hundred sorceress, Yoko did not have to gamble with her next move, as Trevor Belmont stepped outside to join them, drawing the Vampyre's whole attention immediately. Thank goodness for that snake-charming Jules Junior, and his ability to attract demons.
With a mischievous smile, Trevor flashed his notebook to all parties, call-back joke causing the stifled chuckle amongst them all that finally dissolved the tense stand-off. Now this coat would not be a fashion crime in Parisian High Court.
“Well I am glad to hear that. Your barbed tongue had a good point, Chouchou; it was long past time for an update.” Putting aside the fact that Joachim was just admitting Trevor had insulted him into getting a less threadbare outfit for the time being, Yoko was currently more interested in his next actions. The Vampyre welcomed Trevor to him, placing a hand on the side of his face the moment he was close enough, and took the Hunter's notebook from his hands. This he tossed onto the closest bench, and took one of Trevor's hands in his spare instead. “Please. We do not need such basic human methods to understand one another, mon chou. Tell me what has happened, as I've shown you how.”
From her close vantage point Yoko could see that busy little hamster on it's wheel again, turning in her grandfather's eyes. The rodent did not have to work for too long before Trevor nodded to himself and placed his last free hand flat against Joachim's chest, fingers working through the V-neck cut to splay against his bare flesh exposed. It was a little stomach churning watching someone willingly touch a creature that was so pervy and grossly temperamental most days. But like Jules, she too was now very interested in this Demon Social Hierarchy and customs hoopla, and what exactly it entailed. Once that skin to skin contact had been established, Yoko sensed the Vampyre's aura not only envelope the Hunter's, but also that it drew Trevor's in, and filled with his own the vacant space previously occupied. Essence intermixed, the sorceress was also close enough to watch the numerous emotions skirting the Vampyre's visage, each passing briefly, but clear. The shock, concern, and disappointment being the most consistent. Crimson faded back into grey, and held nothing but pity when they fixed on the cobalt blues before them.
“Oh, Petite Lapin. I am ashamed our Kitten is such a fool. Honestly, I did stress how important it was that he not go chasing that thing in the woods, and that he may never return if he did. Truly, I did. Our Kitten just never listens to me!” Alabaster hand still cupping Trevor's face, the Vampyre chose to thread long fingers into chestnut locks in what looked like an effort to sooth. If a Vampyre was even capable of being soothing. “Stop feeling like you drove him out there. This is not your fault in the slightest, Little One. It's Adrian's. He is a short-sighted idiot with no self control. That these nuisances you lot are chasing after once held you in their possession has set him off, but who is the one left suffering such heartache? It's you, you poor thing. He feels he is not enough to help you, so now the halfbreed's stupidly reacting by swinging his manhood around. Adrian should know better at his age, Petite Lapin, but of course he does not.”
Gingerly stepping back from the Vampyre while she saw the opportunity, Yoko fell in beside her mentor and exchanged a curious look regarding the information being presented at current. Curiously, it did seem that Joachim Armster, wild Vampyre of ambiguous age, did not necessarily need words to understand the gist of their mute grandfather's plight. Between physical contact, reading waves of essence, and likely scent - that last one being the same as how Alucard picked up on the basic emotional states of those around him - Joachim seemed capable of inferring much more than Yoko would have thought possible. Desire demons were all about touching, she knew that, but could not recall ever hearing about Desire demons more or less speaking, for lack of a better way to describe it, through any amalgamations of physical or metaphysical touch. Yoko wondered if this heightened empathy was just something all ancient Vampyres could manage provided their power had time to grow into it, or if it was a talent unique to Joachim, like his ghostly swords or affinity for real world metals. Musing further, she figured if it was a unique talent, how fucking ironic could it get that the coldest, most unsettling creature she'd ever had the displeasure of dealing with was also the demon with the enhanced ability to understand your feelings. A proper laugh, that.
“Do not fret, Little One. I will of course help you look for our Kitten. If he has not foolishly gotten himself killed yet, then we will find him together.” The Vampyre promised easily in an effort to dissuade Trevor's pensive uncertainty. “Will you give us a smile then? This sadness is a foul perfume for you to wear.”
Cheesy line or not, it seemed to work on the younger hunter. The anxious expression he wore eased into one of hopefulness, and in return, it appeared Joachim visibly brightened as well. Like a weird positivity feedback loop shared between the two. Yoko folded her arms and fought to keep a neutral expression at their self-indulgent, overly pleased little faces. Wasn't it just the most amazingly bizarre thing that such an ordinary looking man like Trevor Belmont could charm the pants off of not one but two charming demons, when charm was legit their whole schtick? The Sorceress wondered idly if her great-grandfather would be ever so kind as to share his secrets, if she asked him nicely? Whatever it was he had going on despite his utterly ordinary outward appearance had bagged him both a force of fucking nature and a literal prince as both his admirers and lackeys. Not that Yoko particularly wanted a prince or anything - she had the modern day equivalent already - but being able to beguile a murder-machine like Joachim instead of being devoured by him seemed like a pretty useful skill.
Still, it was an interesting dynamic she was eager to understand just for curiosity's sake. Demon logic was nebulous and confusing at best. Joachim was at the top of the pecking order, who had a soft spot for Alucard, who per Trevor, was basically demon married to the Vampyre. Yet Alucard was all about Trevor Belmont. So what exactly was going on? Had Joachim just... folded Trevor into his affections for Alucard? If so, it was kind of a refreshingly open take on the usual human dating rules. Instead of throwing dirty looks or jealous hay-makers it was more of the 'Oh, you like this other boy? That's cool. Invite him over, I'll make bloody pancakes for him and all your friends. No big deal.' Refreshing, yes, but in reality there was probably more to it than that. The pancakes had been the best she'd ever had honestly, so hopefully pancake perks were still on.
While Joachim continued to fawn over his 'rabbit', petting him lightly and playfully, smiling all the while in a way that wasn't at all like the menacing, threatening fashion she was used to receiving, the Vampyre finally deigned to shoot Jules and herself a measured look. “All right, very old man and very pretty human girl. Where exactly are we off to, in order to fetch my very stupid pet kitty?”
“The forest. Your assumption was correct.” Julius answered immediately. “We have a strong belief our friend has gone back to the Aokigahara woods to hunt this Lilû you've mentioned.”
“Of course he did. That is exactly what I told him not to do.” The Vampyre sighed exasperatedly and placed a hand under Trevor's chin, tipping him up so as to capture his attention. “I have one condition before we leave, and it is for you, Little One. You will promise to stay at my side while we hunt. I do mean at my side in the most literal interpretation. I want to be able to reach out and touch you at a moment's notice, at all times. Is that understood?” With a head tilting, Trevor considered the offer, and took the Vampyre's hand. He walked out until they arms length away from each other, but only if they each reached for one another. Joachim narrowed his gaze, but nodded tightly. “Fine. I accept your compromise. This far if need be at most, at all times. But no more.” When Trevor nodded, consenting to the deal, Yoko noticed a tension leaving Joachim she had not at all noticed was there to begin with.
Could it be that Julius and Alucard's hypothesis were actually correct about the monster watching them in the woods that night during their little camping trip? Could it actually be true that such an ancient powerful Vampyre like Joachim Armster had been spooked by what had lay in wait during the dark hours? It sure seemed to be the case. It sure seemed like Joachim did not want Trevor Belmont to go beyond his reach... But was it in order to protect Trevor? Or more likely given the context, so that Joachim and Trevor remained a unified force to confront, which was exactly how Alucard had interpreted the Vampyre's prior actions. An enforced team-up. Something to think about on the long drive over.
Yoko took the lead, heading back inside to fetch Alucard's keys and waited for her entourage to catch up in the car, eager to be on their way. Really, Alucard had been gone far too long, and she was more than concerned for his well-being. Julius sat shot-gun to her relief, and navigated her out of the city proper, leaving her to follow the signs once they were beyond the thick of it. The crew of four mostly sat in silence, the men in the rear staring out their windows, while Yoko made small talk with Julius about this and that to distract from her growing nerves. As the feel of the car on the streets gave her a creeping sense of anxious freedom, she changed topics suddenly, inquiring more deeply about something that had been bothering for a while.
“Tell me, Jules. The sealing spell that sapped a bunch of your memories... Do you really not remember how to drive? Like at all? Or are you just using it as an excuse to get chauffeured around?” She asked to fill the void in silence and knowledge. It was always such a mystery how spotty and hit or miss Julius' stolen memory loss was from the great sealing ritual performed by Alucard and himself. The one that finally banished the Castle and liberated the soul of Dracula from the Crimson Stone.
Julius raised an eyebrow at her sudden pivot, but was not ashamed to answer her truthfully. “Really, I can't. It's a funny thing too, because at home in my personal belongings are also a motorcycle licence, one for heavy freighters, and even a small planes licence too. So paired with my old army dogtags, at some point before the Demon Wars I must have driven trucks for the military and could fly a bush plane. There is a photo of me behind the wheel of a supply truck. It checks out.”
“And you never thought to try and learn again?”
“It is complicated. After the sealing ritual I was a ward of the Church. I wasn't even awake for months after the Castle was banished. Missed my whole celebratory victory party and everything being in a coma for almost an entire year, according to Liza. The Arcane-specialized psyche docs there said it would all have come back to me naturally because my memory was the price paid part of the ritual. The magick is what stole them. Liza told me name all the time and it never stuck. The spell kept wiping it away from me, as a residual effect. Thankfully, I have been getting some basics back, but just like my identity for the longest time, every time I try to learn how to drive again from Hammer the whole experience just poofs from my brain the second I get out of the car. Strangest thing. Those ancient rituals are no joke, Yoko.”
“But stuff is coming back, right?”
“Yeah. Slowly but steadily. I remembered I used to have this friend a few days ago, so I looked him up online. Unfortunately he has passed away, but I was able to get into contact with his widow and send her a few things of his I had. Letters and such. So you know... Maybe one day soon I'll be able to fly that bush plane again. One can always hope.”
Yoko smiled bitter-sweetly. “You really are something else, you know that Jules? A good kind of something else.” She insisted earnestly. “So... Is that how you and our boss got together? Because she was your care-taker for all that time? I am trying to understand how you first climbed into bed with a lizard person.”
“Don't knock it until you've tried it.” The Vampyre interjected from behind in a passive voice. A peek in the rear-view mirror showed his head was still turned, lost in the sights whipping by outside his side window. “It is my experience that lizard demons are absolute freaks in the sheets, as it were.”
Yoko choked on her own surprise so hard, she nearly ran the lot of them off the road. “You don't say.” It was not the kind of comment she was expecting. But then who in their right minds would?
“Well, I won't lie. If she is really a lizard person then I can concur with that statement. An absolute freak.” Julius chuckled in agreement, much to Yoko's dismay.
Grossed out by literally any information that might humanize the Iron Maiden, Yoko winced and groaned at the mere thought. “Ugh... How would you even know what's good, you've lost a pile of memories.” Came her rebuff, rejecting Julius' reality.
Amused, Julius gave her a pointed look. “I didn't forget how to fuck, Yoko.”
Which gave her another shocked, surprised laugh. “Okay, okay, okay. That's fair. You have no idea how sorry I am that I asked.”
While the elder hunter delighted in her discomfort as per usual, a glance over in his direction showed the man getting oddly sentimental. After a quiet moment to think to himself he did open his mouth again to share. “To answer you properly, yeah, that is how she and I got together. Absolutely nothing made sense to me for years, but she was always there. I could only remember her and Alucard. That was it for the better part of a decade. After that, little things came back piecemeal, like what the garden in my childhood home used to smell like. Still couldn't tell you the layout of the building, but that scent is clear as day. I choose to look at my predicament as a blessing in disguise. I've gotten to choose who my friends and family are as an older, wiser man. Whatever toxic or one-sided relationships I may have been saddled with out of misguided obligations prior to going to war, I am free of them now, courtesy of the price paid.”
“I repeat. You really are something else, Jules.”
“Not really. Just old and getting tired a lot quicker these days. Am I really the subject you want to be grilling for the next hour and some change, Yoko, when you've got a live Vampyre in the backseat? Aren't you more interested in what he's got to talk about?” With a quick little grin, having successfully thrown Yoko to the wolf in the back, the elder man whipped out his notebook and pen and further prodded. The trap had sprung, as it were. “Didn't you want to hear about Desire demon courtship dances? I thought you were very curious as to how Alucard ended up practically married to Joachim by their standard parameters.”
Yoko shot Julius a narrowed eyed look and a sarcastic smile in his direction for good measure. “Oh yeah. That was all me.” She played along in order to get Julius his precious fucking notes for the Bestiary, keeping firmly in mind that every extra credit thing she did now was because she was working for that whip. What she would do with it once she was bequeathed it, who knew. It was just really cool. “Trevor was trying to explain it to us but since he is currently a mute, and answering all our questions was too much for his poor little wrist to write out, we thought we would spare him carpal tunnel syndrome and just ask you straight. That's cool, right?”
This got the Vampyre's attention. He met her gaze through the rear-view mirror and narrowed grey eyes into little slits. “Kitten doesn't share these things with you? Surely you could have asked him.” Joachim deflected.
Yoko didn't need Julius mouthing her what to say to get Joachim talking. It was pretty obvious to her what he liked to fawn over, and how he liked being complimented and appreciated. In that regard, he and Alucard were a matching pair. Vain egotistical demons, the lot. “Well Trevor was not quite sure on all the details himself, and he really wanted to know how an adorably oblivious idiot like Alucard entered into such a commitment with a powerful ancient Vampyre like you, Joachim. Seems kinda weird, for a halfbreed, right?”
Joachim grinned wickedly, snared by her simple trap. “It's not Adrian's fault. He may have been sired by a Vampyre, but his father was human first and foremost. Dracula did not properly teach his Scion how to socialize as a Desire demon - or any form of demon, really - and it shows. He's got such poor manners, my Kitten.” Suddenly distracted, Yoko watched Joachim turn towards Trevor as if listening to him speak when not a sound could be heard up in the front by her. Adjusting the mirro so that she could also get a half glimpse of Trevor, she caught his flat facial expression. She wished she could turn around fully to confirm if they were holding hands or something just for her own curiosity about how these little wordless moments were being exchanged. “Well, yes, that is true. I too was born as a human, but I have no significant memories of living as one other than being aware I was mortal for the short span I was. My dear Walter purloined me from my home when I was scarcely knee-high, rearing and training me rigorously as if I were a demon until I was at last old enough to both not be a constant burden upon him and serve in his army when changed. I was taught firmly how to act and serve my Master from the beginning. That is the difference between a good Master and a doting father. Dracula did nothing but spare the rod and spoil the child, and look how that's turned out. We've now a child who never listens to their elders.”
Still watching from the mirror here and there as traffic allowed, Yoko saw Trevor flash Joachim his notebook and Joachim returned the younger hunter an increasingly harried look. “What is it with you and your endless personal questions all the time? No, it wasn't all rod between my Walter and I. My Master just expected absolute perfection from me. I am deeply flawed... Perfection a lofty goal, you see. Walter would certainly not approve that I am sitting in a car being driven by the livestock to go find a missing halfbreed at great risk for myself, for one thing. Walter would be so disappointed in my poor decisions made today.” Grey eyes growing a little wild, Joachim continued. “I would be punished severely for allowing fancies and feelings to override my good senses, Little Rabbit. Such a foolishly emotional response to a foolhardy decision Kitten made, is what this is. Still...”
Another notebook flash and the Vampyre's harried expression deepened into something almost akin to a fluster. Which was very interesting, because prior to that moment Yoko did not think Vampyres could get flustered. “No. Cease your assumptions. Punishments are meted out when deserved, and I deserved each of the ones I had coming back then. In any event, I am not just speaking of the rod, nor am I saying it all rod. When I could manage to measure up perfectly, I was spoiled plenty. What is so hard to understand about that? The best... Perfection... is what my Master wanted for me, and he expected me to rise to the standards he set, not wallow in mediocrity. It was for my personal growth and benefit.” Joachim's face tightened still as he looked down at Trevor's scrawling penmanship, mouth working wordlessly for a moment or two before he shot the younger hunter a troubled look. “Honestly, the insinuations that come out of you. Absolutely not! It was never Walter's narcissism that made him treat me that way. It was so that I could grow, I've said. Like watering a lily. Every three days or so and not a drop more. You will stop needling me on the subject, Little One. The human girl is asking about your dumb halfbreed's poor manners and lack of demon social skills, not about my perfectly reasonable upbringing under a much more experienced Master than Kitten's.” Another scribble and Joachim's furrowed troubled brow smoothed out a touch. “All right, you have me there on a technicality. I suppose Kitten is also my dumb halfbreed as well.”
Amazing. Yoko mused, although still somewhat nervously. She had no idea when or how Joachim Armster had gone from an absolute nightmare incarnate to this still dangerous, but oddball source of entertainment, but it definitely had something to do with her mute great-grandfather in the back seat with him. Trevor Belmont, Vampyre Whisperer. Had a nice ring to it. Amusing to watch the former terror struggle or not, she had Jules' note collection to keep on track, so she tried to bring the quarrelling children in the backseat back in line. “So... about that dumb halfbreed who belongs to both of you, what's up with him and this demon marriage thing? If he's your husbando, Joachim, then what's with the love triangle? Cause it sure seems to me like Alucard has no idea he's demon married or in a love triangle between you and the bunny rabbit.” Julius shot her an approving grin and she winked back. I got you, fam. We'll get to the bottom of this together. For the family bible.
Joachim wasted no time at all answering her, as if he was more than relieved, eager one could say, to have her be asking him questions over Trevor. If she had to guess, Joachim probably wasn't into Trevor Belmont's kind of questions. “That is a serviceable summary of the situation, pretty human girl. Although, as I've said, it is not entirely Kitten's fault. He was not taught our ways, and it so turned out that he was far too juvenile a demon back when we first met to realize what he had entered into when he made the commitment. Regardless, I am satisfied with the union. He fulfills his role quite well, for an oblivious idiot.” With a patient and benign look in Trevor's direction, not at all jealous fury like Yoko kept expecting from a besotted Desire demon, Joachim instructed politely. “You will pay better attention when I explain this time, Little One? I was trying to teach you about demon courtship in the first place so that you would know better how to love Kitten as he is. Complete, and not just as the humans do. There is a demon urge and yearning in him as well that must be satisfied. Our kind of love and devotion is not quite the same. You understand?”
Trevor, a heated flush creeping into his features, was quick to break their eye contact, instead turning towards the window in hopes of either an escape or distraction. After some quiet time passed, he nodded, but kept his eyes on the world passing by beyond. Still, Joachim seemed satisfied with the response. Those grey eyes found Yoko's again through the mirror and he took a deep breath before speaking. While it appeared to be an answer to her inquiries, now she knew for sure his candid nature and free information was really for Trevor's benefit in this case. Still, it didn't mean Julius wasn't going to get those sweet, sweet Belmont Bestiary notes, one way or the other.
“Kitten stepped into my world seeking me out in order to help guide him. Really, not much has changed about that in all these years since. Always helping him, I am.” Joachim began with a long drawn-out thoughtful noise. “When he so rudely interrupted me that first meeting, he came baring himself so openly, he won me over with his honest earnestness. Strangely in that poignant moment, I realized then that I wanted him to know me as he was so openly allowing himself to be seen. I've wondered why over the years on several occasions, but I can only accept that his fragility at that rare moment caught me in his spell. Two odd Desire demons, their peculiarities diverging in the same odd fashions, finding one another in a random shack on the outskirts of Vienna? What were the chances? It was most probably due to shock that his seduction had the effect it did, I'll wager. Either way, I was caught. As is the custom amongst our kind, and since I am the more powerful demon out of the pair of us, it fell to me to initiate the formal courtship. The stronger of the two will bare their weakness, to give the weaker one the chance to show they are trustworthy and to be loved. So I, following custom, bared myself to Kitten and he, in kind, reciprocated. My mistake was assuming it was by his design to come to me the way he did. Of course the reality is, due to his poor upbringing, he was so improperly prepared to fathom what both his offer and acceptance of my own truly meant. But it was much too late by then. He was mine.” Here the Vampyre paused to smile inwardly, playful mirth skirting his features at whatever specific memories he was reliving. With a life as long as his, who could even begin to fathom how deep these memories went back. “Our essence is as one. No other demon lesser than I could ever hope to take him from me now, and since I am so much greater than the bulk of your run of the mill demons and devils, Kitten now enjoys the benefits of my protection from them. How kind of me, yes? To silently shield him from danger even when I am not around. Not that he is aware it is by my touch and mark that his life as a halfbreed is now so easy. Kitten is, after all, a delicious snack being what he is otherwise.”
Yoko hummed as she thought the facts over. There was a lot to take it, judging by how furiously Julius was scratching in his notebook. “So you are saying Alucard became yours without knowing that's what was happening, and that for the past six hundred years you have just been totally cool with him being yours unknowingly?” Yoko decided to ask point blank. “You've never been upset he doesn't cuddle up to you and kiss you and all that other stuff normal married people do?”
“Tiny human girl... That is human thinking. I cannot fault you for that either, I suppose.” Another tired sigh, a glance at Trevor, and Joachim carried on. “What is there to bother me, exactly? That he shares his bed with anything that moves, save Strigoi?” Turning sharply to Trevor again, the Vampyre explained lowly and swiftly. “It's the dusty smell and texture. Kitten says it's like sticking your cock in a sand dune. He is not a fan.” With Trevor Belmont now properly mortified, face further flushing and now partially covered by his hands, Joachim leaned back up into her line of sight and continued in a normal tone. “Sex is just sex for demons, girl. If something wants to climb into your bed and you do not have anything better to be doing at that particular moment, then why the hell would you say no? I promise you I do not, and to some degree, neither does sweet Kitten.”
“Okay, but the issue here is that Alucard never climbs into your bed. That's why I am asking. Why doesn't that fact bother you?”
“Again, that is human thinking. Sex is not love, tiny girl. There can be love within sex for demons, I suppose, but they are not a bargain deal. Sex is so far removed from the sentiment of love with our kind, you are more likely to find a demon pair in love who never fuck, then one who do. Unless we're talking mongrels. Flea-riddled werebeasts mate like they're going extinct at the next turn of the sun. That aside, what pleasures Kitten finds with his body are for his satisfaction, and he will not be faulted for seeking them out, as do I with mine. What matters is that my Kitten always comes home to me, soul bared and receptive to our connection. I am home for him as he is for me. That is love for our kind. True Love. That his heart is shared with our Petite Lapin, changes nothing. The Rabbit is his, and Kitten is mine. So now I have two pets. That is what we call a Demon Arrangement, girl.” With another sharp turn towards Trevor, Joachim reached out and pulled him across the middle seat so as to stare him right in the eyes. Once he was sure he had Trevor's undivided attention, he grit out between clenched teeth. “My love and patience for Kitten has been extended towards you, Little One. If you have been wondering how your sassy liberal tongue is still permitted to be kept in your pouty mouth, that would be why. You should be grateful, considering there is quite the mouth on you.”
In an effort to distract the Vampyre, save her great-grandfather some torn shirt stitching, and because Yoko was actually curious about the logical leaps the Vampyre was making, she pressed once more. “But you have been saying that Alucard doesn't know that you love him in this deep philosophical way, or that you are in so called demon love, demon marriage, or whatever. That doesn't bother you? At all?”
“That Kitten is too dumb to realize outright matters not, pretty human. As I've said, I am who he comes home to when he is finished playing his games and being coaxed by his distractions. He never ceases to show me and give me his love all the time, even if he is not cognizant that is what he is doing. His side of the arrangement is fulfilled, whether he's aware he is doing it or not. That's enough for me. I am not explaining everything to him, not after I've taught him more than enough to figure it out on his own. I do not believe in giving the student the answers outright to begin with. And it would not change our circumstances were he never to clue in, either. The only way to untangle our essence now is for me to devour him, which if I am being honest, is normally how these kinds of arrangements conclude between demons. Eventually, the more dominant demon will almost always tear the object of it's affection apart. It is very challenging to desire something and resist the urge to consume it in it's entirety.” Turning back to Trevor Belmont, Joachim spoke in a soothing tone. “Fortunately, I am far too old to be a slave to hunger, and you should not have to worry about Kitten eating you, Petite Lapin. Kitten is far too human to slide into such cannabalistic barbarism, and if we are to keep honesty at the forefront, I do believe it is you who is the more dominant between you two, Little One. He should be mindful of that, lest he find your teeth in him. So while he may not eat you, Kitten will instead just get jealous, possessive, clingy and horribly morose if you do not pay him enough attention, however, so keep that in mind if you ever decide to seek out your own pleasures apart from him. He will not accept such deviancy as well as I.”
For a moment there was silence, but soon enough a cheeky grin spread across the Vampyre's face, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief and mirth. Again, without the exchanging words, Joachim seemed to have understood Trevor Belmont with ease. “Why would you do that? You're really wondering such a thing? The real question is why would you not, you delightful little creature. You are a perfect little snack in your own right. If Kitten wasn't such an oblivious idiot, he'd have marked you as I have marked him. And if you, Little One, were not so equally oblivious, you would do the same to him. That being said, you are actually listening to me, so I believe my lessons are better suited for you. When we find our Kitten, I will show you how to make him yours for all to see. I do not mind sharing if it is with you.” A glance down at Trevor's page pleased the Vampyre. “Excellent. Your manners are already vastly improved upon his. You are most welcome for these demon school lessons I am providing you. I can only hope that I am correct in assuming you will be the better student, and that by teaching you, I may finally get through that thick skull of his.”
Now it was Julius' turn to pen a little note instead of speaking. In bold letters that Yoko could make out at a glance while still keeping her eyes mostly on the road, the sorceress read Jules' questioning print.
Why does it seem like Joachim is taking another demon under his wing and not just sharing info?
Yoko shrugged and Julius got back to writing out what he'd learned and summarizing his notes, but the question did make her think pretty long and hard about just what exactly was going on in their backseat. Joachim was not really answering her at all so much as he was explaining and clarifying for Trevor Belmont. And you know, maybe that was just because Alucard was like, so super hot for Trevor, the Vampyre had no choice but to accept the human into his world. But then, even if that were the truth... Why the effort to teach? If Joachim's own words were to be believed, Alucard sleeping with anyone or anything did not really matter to him. Pleasure seeking demons and all. So why did Trevor Belmont matter to Joachim? In the grand scheme of things, wasn't the younger Belmont hunter just another temporary fling in the long life Alucard had to live, from the view of another immortal Moroi? Not to mention, if he hates the Belmont clan so much, and Trevor is closer to Leon than Julius or I, how come he was so charmed and taken by Trevor the first time they met? What am I missing here?
Again, Yoko could only shrug in response to her own internal monologue. But because she was both nosy and feeling very bold from winning her little stand-off in the garden with the Vampyre, she just bit the bullet and asked. “If you hate us livestock so much, and Alucard did happen to mention that you do not actually share your pleasures - the carnal kind at least - with anything that's on your dinner menu and instead only with other demons... You know I gotta ask why you are all over our Belmont Vampyre slayer back there. He doesn't seem to bother you, or turn you off.”
Her question wiped the Vampyre's features clean. Instead of another candid reply thus far the norm from Joachim, the demon in the back traded looks between all three of his riding companions and threw up his hands, evidently giving up. “Is Kitten's oblivious idiocy contagious or something?” It seemed as if he was waiting for them to toss him a bone, or tell him they were just messing around or something. When they did not, he shook his head and rolled his eyes. A Vampyre. Rolled his eyes at them. “Ah, you lot all belong together. If you cannot see it, then I am not helping you. Use your own heads, as the answer is very clear.” Then as an offering he threw in for a pittance. “Do not feel too terrible if you need to think about it. After all, even my dumb halfbreed still hasn't caught on.”
Eyes back safely on the road, the sorceress guessed she shouldn't feel too bad about needing that extra time to do whatever math Joachim was expecting of her. Apparently neither had Alucard solved for X, and he was the only other demon she knew. “Well... I guess all that is left to do is to thank you too, Joachim, for teaching us lowly humans about your sex-free pure demon love. I want to go out on a limb and say our human expressions of love are a little less clandestine and easier to follow. We do have something a little bit like you are describing. Only it's not about love, it's a sexual kink, and it's called cuckolding. Look it up online if you got the time. In this case, to us humans and our sensibilities, your pure noble love towards another man who doesn't return it or appreciate it, and instead sleeps around on you, makes you the cuck, Joachim.”
To Yoko's extreme surprise, the fucking Vampyre pulled a goddamn cellphone from out his inner coat pocket and proceeded to look up the term just like she'd jokingly suggested. Julius, also not expecting this sudden turn of events, gave her a wide-eyed stare, uncertain if the sorceress had just gone and started another Demon War in the backseat of a sports car. A look of which she returned. But come on, how was she supposed to know an ancient demon who still used a magick mirror of all fucking things was also down with the times? To their collective relief, however, a cursory research into the term and practice only made the Vampyre chortle with delight.
“What bizarre things you animals get up into.” His voice carried a humorous ring that matched the expression he wore trying to get Trevor to look at whatever it was he had on his screen. Trevor was trying his darndest to avoid having any of it, but Joachim was a very pushy demon and just like the violin lessons, soon had his way. “I can see how you've made the association in error, but I am quite secure in our relationship. As it so happens, in this arrangement between Kitten and I, it is I who holds the majority of the power, and if Kitten wasn't so comfortable in my care that he actually had to take a moment to contemplate what the lack of my attention would cause for him, even the oblivious idiot would agree he's lost without me. Kitten is allowed the freedoms that I wish to give, of which there are plenty, because I am a very generous keeper.” With a quick glance at Trevor he insisted. “And no, my loose grip has nothing to do with how tightly my own Master held me in his. Dominance and submission are our bread and butter. Such strictness is the norm. Another in Kitten's position would not be so lucky. It is simply that he is too honest to betray me and I wish to reward him for that.”
“Oh.” Yoko mused, still brave and bold. It had been working for her all night. Why stop now, right? “So it seems you are also capable of being jealous, possessive, clingy and horribly morose were it not for your confidence in his loyalty.”
“While he does unknowingly abide by them, Kitten is too stupid to know there are limits, if broad, I have set for him. I believe he will find that going forward, I am keen to tighten my reins now that I have seen the true depths of idiocy he is capable of when off-leash. All he could ever want for is right here at my side, and as I have already said, I do not mind to share with the little Rabbit. They are quite pleasing to watch play together.”
“Now you sound like a voyeur.” Yoko murmured.
“Oh that is a very common demon kink too. Voyeurism. I think we may have invented that one.” Joachim supplied succinctly. “Don't make such a face, Little One. You've got a spark of exhibitionism in you, I can tell. You just need a little help discarding such human notions of modesty.” After a beat, he explained. “That's the term for when you get sexually aroused by having other people watch you perform, mon chou. And I have caught the deep notes of excitement in your scent when you see Kitten is watching you.” When Trevor, red-faced and mouth open turned back towards the window and refused to look at the Vampyre, Joachim let out an uproarious, victorious laugh. “Oh, it's not so fun when the uncomfortable shoe is on the other foot now, is it? Stop pestering me about my upbringing under Walter and I'll stop embarrassing you for your modesty. Deal?”
After a moment to consider, from out the side of the rear-view mirror Yoko could see a hand extend out, and accepted by Joachim for a firm shake. A gentleman's agreement had been reached.
With that matter settled for now, the two oddities in the backseat fell back into comfortable silence, each returning to their side window views.
“Are we really going to be able to find Alucard with these two?” She asked Julius, eyebrow raised. “I'm not used to feeling like the grown-up in our merry band.”
Jules took a glance into the back and after a short while, nodded his head. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, look at us. We went from four separate entities bonded by friendship to finding out we're a big happy family consisting of two demon-hunting cousins, two legendary grandpas, and now our Dhampyre grandpa's obsessive compulsive Vampyre cuck. What in this entire forest is going to be stupid enough to get in the way of a group like us?”
“This is... a fair point.” Yoko agreed. “I'd cross the street if I saw us coming.”
Julius nodded, in accord. “We're almost there now. Hammer and I parked not too far up from here, though I doubt the car will get into the bush as far as his Jeep did. You are ready, yeah?”
“Of course.” Yoko agreed again.
“Great. Remember, heart of fire, Yoko. Let's go find Grandpa Kitten.”
Notes:
It's not cuckolding if you're into it.
Chapter 36: Casus Belli
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Had to be November by now, 2037 ~ Lakebed Motel
Artificial summer-simulating sunlight warmed everything under it's touch, as surely as the genuine ball of fire in the sky ought to have. Because of this, there was no need for cloaks, coats or sweaters, and every such vestment had been gratefully left back at the cheery childhood home of the Dhampyre. The Hunter was further relieved to have no need for a weapon, carrying with him only a simple utilitarian belt knife, poorly suited for combat. Trevor Belmont was free, in every sense of the word, and the playfully sultry manner in which he was dressed and carried himself reflected his inner peace. Alucard found he could not take his eyes off the man, even more so than previously thought possible. The domesticity was what got him every time since they came to Lupu. Those glimpses of what life with a Trevor Belmont who was not marching to his doom could be like. Having an attractive man around at all hours who hung up your coat and brought you a drink before you even realized you were parched. That same man who would run a hand along your side, your face, or thread fingers through your hair for no other reason than you were within range, and he relaxed enough to indulge his affections for you. The Dhampyre was quite pleased with what he saw and experienced from Trevor since coming to town. Loved it, even.
Athletic form clad in only a partially laced snowy white shirt, sleeves rolled devilishly high-passed what acceptability and properness allowed in polite society, was tucked into snug cotton trousers borrowed from Alucard's adolescent wardrobe, that accentuated quite pleasingly the Hunter's cinched eye-drawing waist. Of course adding to the visual delight was the thin sheen of perspiration across the Hunter's exposed flesh, courtesy of the midday false sun, whose shimmer the rays above caught in such attractively fascinating ways. Alucard was most partial towards the near glitter gliding along and in between the man's exposed pectoral muscles, and even the tip of that dividing line that drew down towards his navel. That highlight from the sweat sheen the Dhampyre found to be the very height of eroticism. Distractingly so. Trevor had to know what he was doing by dressing in such a fashion, right?
He certainly must. Otherwise, how was it that such a modest mouse when it came to his body could not realize what a grand show he was putting on by walking around half dressed like that? Perhaps he honestly did not think of it, covered up as he usually was by his long leather coat. Far be it from the Dhampyre to even consider the idea of pointing out the contradiction in his tightly gripped modesty, lest his shame lead him to cover up. After all, Alucard was the one with front row seats to the performance Trevor was putting on... Though he was at current being forced to share the view.
The purpose of their outing was benign, simple exploration with no destination in mind. The Hunter had expressed curiosity about the village his friend and current lover hailed from, and Alucard was more than pleased to have Trevor to all to himself while showing him the various locales. Or so he would have liked, but it did seem that each corner of the village proper they stopped along to take in the sights was soon flooded with countless smiling faces whose conversation was nearly begging, their eyes nearly desperate, for something new to behold and interact with. Trevor was the answer they were all looking for. In fact, a harem had formed not too long after a stop to admire the fountain, just as it had upon their first visit, much to Trevor's open amusement, and Alucard's jealousy-twinged annoyance. He tried not to show his ire, but the roving harems had collected nearly every stop as the day wore on, and so did his patience wear out along with the hours.
The women of Lupu's 'reverence' for the Son of Lisa paled significantly in comparison against the twitching wet sexes between their collective legs. How shamelessly they projected their lust onto the charmingly handsome brunette in their midst, who clearly was only humouring them. For that matter, why did Trevor see fit to entertain them as he did, for as long as he was? The gentle sway in his body enticing all those around him, drawing eyes of even the men. Even seated as he was by the fountain, those sultry tilts of his head as he listened or tried to understand a reply, the way he tucked fallen hair just so behind an ear, hand hovering a touch longer than necessary, and the easy smile he returned those youthful gathered ladies, were too erotic a display to be simple conversation. He was baiting them, that Trevor Belmont. Luring them, and enjoying every second of it.
Aggravation reaching it's apex, the Dhampyre took a seat near flush against the Hunter's side, gazing up at the statue of his mother in the opposite direction of Trevor and his numerous suitresses. He listened for a while longer at the easy chatter and flirtatious tones flung about, but after patiently waiting for Trevor to take the hint the Hunter clearly kept missing, caught up as he was in the endless questions these village girls had for him, Alucard took a deep confidence-boosting breath, steeled his nerves, raised his right hand, and lay it firmly, possessively, on the Hunter's left thigh. His fingers so closely curled around the cotton garbed flesh of the Hunter's inner thigh, he need only straighten his fingers out in order to brush against the Hunter's own evidently lustful sex. Now this caught the damned Incubus' attention at last.
Trevor turned his head so sharply in Alucard's direction, angled as they were with the Dhampyre's back to the ever growing harem, when he twisted equally to meet Trevor eye to eye, they of course looked to be two lovers a breath away from kissing. Which really, if that was what it would take to announce his claim over this alluring, attractive, effortless seductor, he would absolutely be willing to do it. Instinct and fear made the Hunter grasp at his possessive grip, tightening over it as if to throw the hand aside lest they be called out as heathens and sodomites. Men had been killed for less after all. But with their eyes now locked, Trevor stilled, the hand on Alucard's seemingly chosen to stay in place on top of his, which still gripped that well-defined thigh. There was a growing heat touching the Hunter's visage as the pulse beneath his palm quickened tellingly. The scent off the brunette matched his pulse, excited, nervous, and uncertain all at once.
Alucard could not contain his wolfish grin. This claim of his, so possessively, aggressively made, coupled with Trevor Belmont's willingness to allow him such a publicly declared stake over the enchanting beauty, swelled the Dhampyre's ego indescribably. The hand laying atop his grip tightened, a show of solidarity, and of submission, sent electricity through the touch that travelled straight to his own eager sex. The desire to just lean forward that hairsbreadth and kiss the man he looked about to anyway was so strong, but he refrained knowing that what he was getting away with so boldly in front of so many pairs of eyes right that second was beyond what he could have ever dreamed of. A true public display of affection. His first ever... And Trevor hadn't moved away. So, instead of capturing those lips which would have crossed the line his current actions butted up against, he instead broadened his own, leaning forward to speak softly into the closest ear.
“Shall I leave you to your latest group of devotees, or would you care to carry on now, my sweetest heart?” His breath ghosted by that ear, such lovely chestnut locks tucked behind, sending a slight shiver up the Hunter's spine he could see only due to their intimate proximity.
The hand on his at last loosened, and a trepidacious exhale answered. “Even if it must be straight out of town to avoid being strung to the stake because of your current and ongoing actions...” So close, the nervous swallow was audible. “I will follow where you lead, Adrian.”
“I don't think it will come to that.” He chuckled softly. “Not if we leave soon after. They'll think they imagined it all. Say good day to your harem, Trevor.”
As the Hunter was quick to cut the girls off and comply with Alucard's wishes, the Dhampyre stood, offering a hand to help the Hunter to his feet with a not so apologetic smile to the pretty little faces all around. There was no apology owed for leading their interesting new specimen away by hand either on the Dhampyre's part. The Hunter was his gallant hero, after all. However, once they were few steps beyond earshot of the sighing wall of lamenting ladies, Trevor finally shook free of his hand and folded his arms.
“Really, Adrian... By your account these people are two hundred years trapped in the past. I hardly believe they are any more accepting of such...Well... Your kind of Roman relations.”
“My kind?” The Dhampyre's laugh was more boisterous than he'd intended, so when he spoke he made sure it was hushed enough for the Hunter's ears only. “Really, Trevor Belmont. You are the the one performing the sodomy. I am only receiving your lustful rut.” Valid as his point was, it of course drove the Hunter's features to flush crimson, eyes wide. “Why such a face? It is just me you are speaking to now, and I am the one you are sodomizing.” It was worth being swat at, to see the indignation on such a perfectly handsome face. Telling Trevor just as much did nothing to quash the visible embarrassment, but at least the Hunter was too caught up in the emotion to question where his weaving path was taking them until Alucard had them right up in a tight alleyway opening out to the bridge covered river. “Perfect.” Alucard said, self-congratulating, and pushed the smaller man against the rear wall of an abandoned home, between some forgotten crates and a rotten wagon full of even more rotten hay.
Trevor was not amused, colour still staining his cheeks. “This is just... not going to happen. Whatever it is you think is going to. It's not.”
Alucard shrugged and placed both hands against the wall, right beside Trevor's head, loosely trapping the brunette exactly where he looked so perfectly placed in order to devour. “I haven't the slightest idea what you are referring to. What do you think is going to happen in a dingy out of the way alley where no one ever comes down and no one even remembers exists?” The denial and deflection obviously wasn't fooling the Hunter, who narrowed his pretty eyes, positively glowering now. When the man tried to duck out from under him, it was too easy to catch him by that cinched little waist and push him back in place. The Dhampyre would have liked to see some waifish girl manage that much. Because the hand was there, he let it caress that side of the man's body with just enough pressure to keep him where he was was easy to loom over. “So skittish all of a sudden, I cannot fathom why.”
“Are you seriously going to force me to stay here? Like this?” Trevor demanded, scowl in place.
The Dhampyre made a great show of being wounded. “Seriously?” Leaning in coyly, he whispered in another ear, causing that same delicious shiver from before to crawl up the Hunter's spine. “You must be quivering with anticipation for we both know I can't do anything to you that you won't allow, Trevor. You're stronger than me.”
With a defeated sigh and a bit of a nervous shuffle, the Hunter avoided his gaze and murmured. “I don't feel very strong right this second.” While he did turn his head further to the side to avoid Alucard's eyes, he still let the Dhampyre lean possessively into him, the press of his body truly trapping Trevor deliciously against the wall. From the sharp intake of air, Trevor was made aware of Alucard's aching desire. “What was that, back there by the fountain? I've never had anyone grab me in such a fashion before.”
It was the Dhampyre's turn to sigh in defeat as well as pleasure, friction between their bodies teasing them both. “Oh that... That was boorish of me, I apologize. I admit it was just plain old jealousy rearing it's ugly head. There are a lot of pretty girls here, and they all seem to like you a whole lot more than I would like them to.” While trying and failing to catch Trevor's eyes, the Dhampyre further reasoned. “You are so handsome today, too. I'm sure it does not help their fervent lust. I can't keep my eyes off you either. I think it may be a symptom of summer love.”
“It's winter.” The Hunter rebuffed.
The Dhampyre pressed fully against the smaller frame, allowing him to feel just how jealous and aroused he had become, watching those milquetoast village girls fawn over the sweat-glistening Hunter. His Hunter. The firm evidence spoke for itself. “My body thinks it's summer enough.” He purred, causing the Hunter to groan and fidget at his antics, which of course only further enticed the demon.
“What do you want, Adrian?” The exasperated question finally came.
“For you to pay attention to me and not your pretty village harem girls.” While the Hunter staunchly refused to look at him, his hands did finally engage, sliding up the front of his chest until they could hook loosely around the crook between shoulders and neck. “Pay attention to me, Trevor.”
With that final immature whine, those pretty blue-greys did finally deign meet his yellows. Pale pink lips caught his own quite suddenly as a pleasant surprise, and because Trevor was indeed stronger than him, he was wrestled into place against the shaded wall between long forgotten refuse instead, the Hunter working at his belt and buttons, freeing him enough to yank everything down just enough to get at what he wanted, and then...
Alucard was pushed roughly against the cool hard stone, raw, scalded, sensitive skin and burns tearing at the friction from the ministrations wracking his body, every brace of his shoulder blades against the assault leaving streaks of blood he could smell. Warm brown locks of hair ghosting his chest, neck and face, the pale body above him took it's pleasure shamelessly. Cobalt blue-grey eyes watching him from above, features unreadable, alien. Paradoxically from the agony of his exterior, this act felt so good inside, the heat, the fullness, the domination. Born a peak predator... But here he was little more than prey. A hungry little bird had come for him, the pretty little beetle with iridescent glamours that had no effect.
Except... That's not it. That's not how it happened.
The Hunter worked at his belt and buttons, freeing him enough to yank everything down just enough to get at what he wanted, and then he was hoisted up without any ceremony. The shock of the sudden pivot had him gasp loudly, and again when he felt the head of the Hunter's cock at his entrance. Hadn't Trevor just told him this exact thing was not going to happen, as well? What else could a Dhampyre do but wrap his legs around that cinched waist. Hook his ankles, and arc his back as that first raw thrust into his unprepared body burned with such sweet agony? Maybe marvel a little at how he was being manhandled, at his size and age, and at how giddy it made him to be bounced along that impaling hard shaft by such an impertinent brat.
“You're going to have to be quieter or we'll get caught.” The Hunter hissed at his very vocal appreciation. “Unless getting caught is exactly what you wanted when you started this little game?”
“Hah...” He panted, body already tensing with the excitement, the risk, and the sheer spontaneity of the moment. This wasn't what he quite had in mind at all, truth be told, it was far beyond any hopes and dreams. He thought only to tease Trevor, to make him apologize for ignoring him. Perhaps some kissing and heavy petting as compensation, sure. A little friction through their clothes to tide him over until the evening. Honestly, that was it. “You... Ah...”
“Ah..?” Trevor jeered, with a wicked grin. “That's all you have to say after such a bold show back by that fountain? Is the powerful Scion of Dracula so intimidated by a milksop girl in braids you felt the need to grab me, mark me, like I am your property?”
“I didn't... Ah!” The pleasurable pressure was growing, clouding his mind and ability to answer the Hunter properly. “By the gods... Trevor.. Ah...”
“You have quite the pair on you, to try and get away with that. And for what? Petty jealousy? Over what, Adrian? What was there to be jealous of?” The Hunter asked, punctuated by a particularly deep thrust for each and every one of his questions.“Whose bed did I wake up in this morning? Who did I fuck last night? It sure as hell wasn't the girl in the braids, now was it?”
“Ah... Why do you keep... Asmodeus incarnate, Trevor, seriously... Talking about the one with the braids? Ah... Is she what... You like?” Come to think of it, wasn't it his mother's doll with the braids that Trevor had said he liked the most when raiding his toy chest? Inquiring minds just had to know if that soft farmgirl next door was his type. Even if those inquiring minds couldn't rub two brain cells together at the moment.
The Hunter's eyes, so cool in colour, burned brightly. The Dhampyre was dropped unceremoniously, but kept from falling flat on his ass or face by a hand twisted in the collar of his shirt and once he had the barest thread of balance...
Alucard found himself thrown against the ground, hands and knees catching painfully as raw skin peeled and bled, mewling and moaning shamelessly as those pale strong hands turned his hips upwards to continue the assault. His legs and arms trembled with weakness, muscles twitching as they threatened to give out entirely. Even when they eventually did, it did not change anything. The grip on his hips dragged him back in suitable fashion for the owner's intent, and the Dhampyre could only accept that his pleasure and comfort in this was secondary. An afterthought, if even that little. Trevor Belmont would use him up just as surely as the silver cage and lake water would. Except...
No... That was not how it went, and that is not how Trevor would act.
The Dhampyre was dropped unceremoniously, but kept from falling flat on his ass or face by a hand twisted in the collar of his shirt and once he had the barest thread of balance, the Hunter gently, but firmly bent him over the top of the closest long-abandoned barrel. With both his arms bent behind his back and held, Trevor using them as a suitable handle, he was once more assailed by the aggravated Hunter. Like the pistons in his father's machinery, the hips knocking into his backside and drawing out his pathetic, frustrated cries, worked ceaselessly. Alucard squirmed and tried to beg, but nothing that made any coherent sense would come out. Left without purchase, he could not even meet the Hunter's thrusts with his own hip roll, instead left entirely at the other man's mercy.
“Is she what I like, you ask?” The Hunter growled in his ear, having pulled him back by a fistful of hair while not painfully, by no means was it done gently. Each question fucked into his pliant body. “What use could I possibly have for a naive sheltered girl like that? Which part of my life would benefit from another soft defenceless dependant?”
“Ah... You're so... Trevor, it's too... Ah!”
“Who did I wake up next to this morning, Adrian?” The Hunter growled again, questions punctuated with those deep reaching thrusts that felt too fucking good. “Who the fuck did I let dress me up like his little doll, ribbons and all? Who was that, Adrian?” When the Dhampyre couldn't answer fast enough, Trevor flipped him over and lifted him on top of the barrel to look at him while that cock turned him inside out. “Who?”
“I-It... was me. Ah...” Whimpering now as the Hunter's hand pumped his own weeping sex in tune with the brutal thrusts, Alucard reached out to place a trembling hand on the side of that handsome sneering face. “A-and you looked... so... fucking... gorgeous. Ah!”
“Do you think I would have let any one of those little girls see me how I've let you see me?” The Hunter's next question was asked in such a low tone, the Dhampyre almost missed it. “Do you think me so shallow that any old pretty face is enough for me? Is that really what you've come to believe after all this time spent in my company?”
“Ah.. N-no. No, I don't.” Alucard shook his head, furiously, knowing it was important he answer, but struggling to express himself. “I-I don't know what I thought, I just... Ah, Trevor... Please, it's too much... Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” Outright pleading now, he closed his eyes and arched his back, so close to ecstasy. The boldness of his earlier actions, the aggressive surprise response from Trevor... It was really too much. “I can't help it... I am... I'm a Demon of Desire.” Excuses fell from his lips. “Y-Your... My desire, Trevor. I just... I want you. I want to keep you. There is no one else but you for me and I just wish... I wish so much... Ahh... I wish there was only me for you!”
His senses whited out. The hand still pumping his wilting, spent cock was the first thing that came back into focus, followed by the slow, measured glide in and out of his body, meting out residual warm waves of pleasure, carrying him softly back down from the highest highs, back into reality. He was pulled up into more or less a sitting position where velvet pressed against his lips and slipped behind his gates. Trevor was kissing him, and now Trevor was watching his face. Gone was that sneer, that scowl, and that glower.
“You are everything that I like, you idiot.” The Hunter confessed without any force to the insult.“You didn't need to do that. It was risky and it was unnecessary. I don't want to slaughter a whole village to protect you, but I would if I had to. So please don't make me have to, all right?”
“Trevor...” Alucard shook his head and tried again, throwing his arms around the Hunter in hopes he could draw enough strength from the other man to get his scrambled thoughts together. “I'm sorry... I promise I'll never grab you like that again.”
He felt the shoulders shake with laughter before he heard the Hunter's rich musical voice next to his ear. “Is that really your take-away from this?” The man wrapped him in his arms tightly and rocked him from side to side, almost playfully. “Adrian just... No. That's not it at all. I want you to understand that you don't have to be a jealous Desire demon. Your desire is just happy where he is right now, with what he has. All right?”
His grin was small, but earnest. Blinking a few tears away, touched and emotional as he was after such a sweet assurance, he tried again to apologize. “I am still sorry I did that so openly. It was foolish and... Boorish.”
Trevor leaned back to catch his attention and smiled coyly, leaning in to press a single, chaste kiss to his lips. “It's all right, Adrian... I actually...” Blush returning, Alucard's attention came into sharp focus on the Hunter as he opened his pretty little lips to confess. “What you did, and how you did it, so hungry and... I don't even know. It's like you wanted me so badly you were going to get us both stoned to death over it. I've never seen somebody look at me in that way before. I'm not sure what it made me feel, but I just know I really like it.”
“...Like it?”
Wait... What?
Dull aches pulsed through a broken, bruised, burned body, in spite of the therapeutic tingling across the top layer of his flesh, calling back into focus the dismal, dark, watery prison that had been his unwanted accommodations for far too long. His back could feel cool stone flush against it. The stupid looking stone-moulded bed, it had to be. Silly a creation as it was, the stone circle was far more agreeable to him than laying in the enchanted silver cage, slowly leaching away the last of his essence. It seemed like he was forever teetering along that line between life and death. He couldn't remember what it was like not to hang on through sheer grit and spite, white-knuckled and drowning in the terror of what he would unleash if he did give in.
“The Pretty One likes it?” Angelic face and voice were hovering around, constantly moving so that Alucard could hardly focus on those pale features. The familiar shape was pulling him close. It was warm, and he was tired, weak, and cold. He was in the shape's arms, coddled and off the hard surface. A warmth blanketing his body by way of an oily feeling film. A black ink climbing his limbs until he wore a suit of it. “The Pretty One is cold. Now warm.”
The pretty one? Alucard's exhausted mind struggled to shake his fantasy from reality. It was so easy to lose himself to the past memories in this unchanging prison and lack of stimulation, save the agonizing torture. That is... me. I am the Pretty One. The one who calls me such is... Lilû. Arden. Whatever. This demon probably has more pseudonyms than I do. It's presence explained the soothing tingle on his skin. His burns had been lapped at, an enigmatic demon's form of treatment. It seemed to work well enough.
“Arden...”
Is that really my voice? How... How far gone am I?
“The Pretty One will help Esteffi soon?” The more angelic tone was currently dominant as the demon cradled him. It seemed happy to be of service, if Alucard had to guess. “The Pretty One is hurt. Very hurt. No Pretty One soon. Help Esteffi?”
No shit, Arden... Not that he could say that. Although, with another cursory glance at the too flawless twin of Trevor Belmont, in all likelihood he probably could. Realistically the demon would probably not understand.
“Help the Pretty One... Arden?” Why not? It was worth every shot, every single time the demon had come to visit. It usually got him some extra time out of cage at minimum.
This time was no different. The slow blinking, head tilting, demon version of the Belmont Pause passed after a relatively normal amount a time a real Belmont Pause would, and Arden was then shifting him more comfortably in it's arms, laying him on it's shoulder to rest. The oily, inky membrane protected his skin from further ravages and abrasions.
“The Pretty One is starving.”
“The Pretty One is very tired. Sleep. This one will stay and keep the Pretty One dry. No fear. No water.”
That will have to be good enough. Alucard reasoned and did just that. It should probably have concerned him how easily he could fall asleep in such a demon's arms. But with his eyes closed, he'd be damned if he couldn't admit the shape didn't feel close enough like Trevor, minor details aside like how Trevor would be playing with his hair right about now. Still, he could pretend he was in the arms he wanted to be in. So he did, and he slept...
...Only to be rudely awakened by the other musical voice he'd become accustomed to since his stay in the shitty Lakebed Motel. It was a lousy room and he was going to be sure to leave a one star review when he got out. Possibly right across the vile woman's face where she would have to see it in the mirror for the rest of her hopefully short numbered days. The Witch's singsong candour, cooing and fussing over her twin-toned pet, the pet that looked like his precious Trevor Belmont, churned the Dhampyre's stomach. So much so he legitimately did hurl, falling forward and away from Arden to retch. There was nothing to it but leftover lake water and bile. The heaving hurt everything, and the bile did his throat no favours. Without a care for pride or presentability, he let himself slump to the side of the mess. Gods and devils willing, she'd think him out for the count and fuck off.
Of course he was not that lucky. Her brazen hands were on his person much to his dismay, ensuring he wasn't choking on his own vomit and once she was certain he wouldn't die in such a demeaning fashion, the rape began anew. Her essence probing him, working it's way inside, her very aura sliding around and against all his intimate parts, brain, heart, lungs, gut, and yes, even his sex. There was no part of him she sought to leave unturned in her hunt, and one by one she picked apart little seals in his body, working her way through the maze he'd constructed in his own flesh to keep the world safe from people like her. Alucard was overly cautious after the Demon Wars, adding lock after lock. For a time it seemed every instance his mind even brushed up against a thought of the stones, he added another lock. At the rate this woman was picking through him, perhaps he should have kept at it. It would have been permissible to seal so much of his power away permanently if it meant he could be the living embodiment of the Gordian Knot.
Hindsight was 20/20, so they said.
“This is exhausting work, fair Demon Prince.” The Witch had the audacity to complain after another lengthy assault session. How abhorrent her fingers worming through his guts were. “It would be so much easier on us both if you just gave up what you are hiding. We both know I am expecting to find the location of the stones I seek, where you have hidden my sacrifice, or perhaps, given the puzzle you have turned your body into, the very Crimson Stone anchor I require. If you would just give it up you could be let free. I truly do not see the point of withholding when I will crack this puzzlebox. Not when you are suffering so greatly.”
“You are the cause of my suffering.” He rasped out. “You and your misguided ambitions.”
“Such ire always from you. I promise I will make a place for you too, Fair Prince, even though you scorn my ideals and ideas. Please remember that I will welcome you when I succeed. I would hate for this little... unpleasantness at current, to prevent you from coming back to your kind when I set us all free. You belong with us.”
While he was too exhausted to scoff, he was not too exhausted to scold. “You'll just be trading masters, you do realize, right? The Castle is not a thing, Estefania. It's a being. It breathes. It has put it's hold on you already, and you just don't see it's control. You are still a slave, you fool girl.”
“I was told you would say such a thing.” The Witch informed him casually.
You were told..? “By who?”
“My fair Demon Prince, you really should worry less about my liaisons and rest more. Lay still and let me in, already. Your resistance is admirable, but unnecessary. I will find what you are keeping inside.”
Whether it be the last instinctual push of a dying animal or whatever other parallel, a flush of anger and adrenaline gave him just enough of a spark to launch himself up off the ground and on top of the surprised Witch. At last... At last! He had her by the throat, claws sinking. His grip was far too weak to choke, but his claws had kept their edge throughout the whole ordeal. Her shock and the sudden pain at his attack overwhelming her ability to fight back, the Dhampyre was free to drag his weak grip, tearing. Her larynx, he decided then. He wanted it as a trophy. There was only one pleasantly musical voice he wanted to hear, and it sure as hell wasn't hers. The bitch couldn't tilt her head just like Trevor without it either.
Stars were flashing in his eyes. He was on the ground, eyes stuck open, unable to blink, watching the Shadow's inky membrane leave his body in order to climb hers, staunching the bleeding. The Witch choked, hacking up bright red blood. Arterial blood, he noted with a dull sense of glee. The Shadow's ink appeared unfortunately to be a sufficient enough tourniquet. While the wild eyed woman could not speak, her face was an open snarl. The Dhampyre drank it all in, the sight and smell of her suffering until the Shadow obscured his view. Then all he could watch with unblinking eyes was Trevor Belmont's demon twin haul his broken body back into the cage with impudence.
“Hurt Esteffi.” Demon pitch overtaking angelic choir, the Shadow loomed over his prone form. “Esteffi is of this one, but Pretty One hurt...” There was visible pain on it's features. So at last he knew for sure it was an empathetic demon. A little late, the Dhampyre imagined. “Bad bad.”
Oriented as he was, he could not see the Shadow attend to it's master, but he did see them dive back into the lake through her shoddy containment field. The Dhampyre was alone again and as if to add insult to injury, the ball of witch-light gave out. It was just as well in the end, he decided. Alucard did not have to see the crashing water coming to take his eyes. They were the only thing he had left that did not hurt. All good things and all that jazz, Yoko would have said.
At least... At the very least... His little last stand had bought him time. There were still enough locks in place to conceal what needed to be concealed. Until...
Well... Until he died.
I guess there is no choice. I'll just have to hang on a little longer.
*****
November 2037 ~ Aokigahara Forest
Levity had long since left the group as they fanned out from the former campground, hazarding a guess the missing Dhampyre they were searching for would have headed deeper into the forests around Mount Fuji. While staying within shouting distance, each were on their own to survey the root-ridden forest floor and foliage for any signs a six foot five inch demon had passed through, save their newest additions, the Vampyre and historically famous Vampyre Hunter. Not only was Joachim Armster not bluffing when he laid out his conditions, and agreed to compromise the dual-arms length maximum distance, it seemed he intended to hold the hand attached to that other arm to ensure the terms and conditions were not breached. Trevor seemed to be begrudgingly allowing it.
Their steps were all together soft and soundless. Careful of dried leaves and brittle fallen branches. Yoko did her best to keep every one of Julius' instructions in mind, in order to maintain the enigmatic 'fox-walk'. Slow movement and placement, straight slide, soft knees, toe to heel, varied pace contrary to the steady plodding rhythm humans normally walked, and to stay ever mindful of the birds, or as he referred to them; Nature's alarm bells. It was a lot to keep in mind, while still scanning the endless greenery for any signs of movement, disturbance, or tracks. While Yoko saw nothing for hours on end, there did seem to be something their Vampyre bloodhound picked up on.
She noticed through Julius, the sharp change in their trajectory and fell in line, while still maintaining their fanned out broad coverage. Far beyond she could see Joachim had started to pull Trevor along after him, always stopping to yank the younger hunter back in place behind if the brunette tried to outpace him. The Vampyre's insistence Trevor keep where he was forcibly placed could mean two things, Yoko imagined, and likely Julius was thinking the same. Whatever had caught Joachim's nose drove the Vampyre to keep the mini hunter safely behind him out of affection... Or drove him to force the Legacy version Belmont to watch his back out of fear. Based on the tale of the harrowing camping night, Yoko was more inclined to believe Joachim was afraid. Which let's be real... made her afraid.
The tree-monster hadn't seemed like such a big deal to her when she'd encountered it months ago. She hadn't been seduced or felt any overwhelming sexy-demon pheromones. Just a smidge. A dusting of sexy-demon pheromones. It hadn't attacked any of them, having only caught Alucard in a non-violent way. It had tried to sex him up, sure, but they were both sex demons. That's legit just what they did. Alucard had been into it. She knew that for a fact, cause she'd watched it happen, and nobody wanted to catch the tree-monster more than he did after their little kiss that night. It was the 'second most beautiful thing' he had ever seen, self-admittedly. She just... wasn't convinced the scary entity that terrorized Alucard and Joachim all night was the same creature that scampered off without a fight even after Alucard had tackled it from the tree tops and broke his fall with it's slim body. Alucard was heavy. It had every right to have been pissed off after breaking the Dhampyre's fall. Yoko did not believe what she saw that day in the woods would be capable of taking out something like Joachim Armster... But then again, she was pretty new to this whole demon hunting gig, and really, what the hell did she know?
Actually, plenty!
...But admittedly, not about this. So she shut her trap and followed her betters, trying to imagine what it must have been like for Alucard to walk through these same woods almost two weeks ago now. About what had brought him to this very point. How what, at surface level, had once seemed like a simple rogue witch-hunt back in the Spring had instead ballooned to where they all were now. Alucard had never found out what happened to the love of his life until six months ago, when they almost threw what they thought was a dead body on a funerary pyre pile. In six months he'd been guilt-shamed, verbally abused, physically abused, and emotionally abused by that great love in his world. Affections played on and taken advantage of by a tiny tyrant who could not decide whether to stay loyal to a wife or give in to his own heart's desire. She always had to remind herself that what she saw in Trevor during those early moments was not Trevor Belmont as Alucard knew him, but the wounded tortured husk of a man bled dry night after night for blood sacraments. She'd met Trevor at his worst. But Alucard had lost what sounded like a brilliant shining beacon and been returned a flickering faulty crank-powered flashlight in that beacons place. Only able to give back what power Alucard first put in. Alucard had known Trevor at his best, and the Dhampyre suffered greatly seeing how he'd fallen. He took Trevor's failings and suffering personally.
Alucard had become full time caregiver overnight six months ago. Keeping secrets and burdens, denying himself that which he wanted most of all for his ward's sake. No day of rest had been allotted. No days passed without worry and upset and anxieties through the roof. Constant vigilance. Constant anticipation of the next erratic outburst. The Dhampyre and Hunter had weathered the struggle together, on unequal footing most days, but still, together. They'd climbed back into each-others arms just in time for the largest blow to strike. That they were almost six hundred years later than the poor Hunter believed, and there was no going back. It was done. He'd navigated them through it, poor Alucard must have thought. It seemed like he did. He'd really believed Trevor had turned a corner for the better the night she was asked to introduce herself properly to her great-grandfather. He must have been so relieved to finally be out of the thick of it that night.
The night they found Trevor dead by his own hand. The very same night Alucard had tried to die with him. And now... Well by Joachim's assumption, because Alucard had tried and failed to care for and repair what belonged to him, he was now compelled to be out here seeking revenge upon that which harmed what he could not fix. Demon logic. But really... It was distraught lovers logic. Yoko wasn't of the opinion being a demon had anything to do with it. Alucard was out here alone because he loved Trevor so greatly and Trevor was a broken vase off it's pedestal... Only he wasn't. She'd witnessed it, that resilience in him. He was not perfect, as Alucard believed him to be, and he'd made a grave mistake. If Alucard could have only seen that Trevor could make mistakes, and not have been blinded by his rose-tinted goggles, he would have stayed as Trevor asked him to. They could have tried to work it out as equals, for once.
Six months ago Alucard thought he was chasing a rogue witch. Six months later he was instead still trying to heal himself and his lover from a six hundred year grievous wound, endless heartache, survivors guilt, and find their way back to loving each other. It was too much for him to handle alone, but he'd tried. No one could say he hadn't tried. And now he was truly alone. Lost somewhere in the woods. Alucard's burden of care now offloaded onto Trevor Belmont. It wasn't fair. These were not bad men. They were decent people who tried to do good, it just seemed like good didn't like to come visit with them. Already decided firmly in advance, was when their ragtag crew finally found the Dhampyre, first Yoko was going to hug him so tightly she may break a rib, but after that, she was going to lock Alucard in a room with Trevor and neither of them were coming out until they worked their shit out once and for all. Screw the whole Demon Hierarchy nonsense. Equal ground, equal power. Balanced healthy relationship goals.
Far off-side the Vampyre halted in his tracks, bringing Julius to a stop parallel, so Yoko followed suit. Tuned as she was to everything around her - you know, cause this was a high-alert situation - she started to see the threads of magick around them, coiled around trees and draped from limb to limb. Spiderwebs of essence strung amongst the brush. It was a promising sign... but a dangerous one. Yoko plucked at the binds gingerly, unravelling and releasing the energy enough to get to Julius' side, and then to bring them both to meet up with the Dhampyre Fan-club President and his little VP. The closer the humans got to the Vampyre the more clearly his covert sneer became apparent.
“They are playing tricks on me, these women.” The Vampyre snapped in a still hushed voice. “Human girl, what spell is this? It clouds the scents in this area.”
“They were probably safeguarding against Alucard. He would hunt by scent, after all.” Julius offered up. Yoko was in agreement. “Can you do anything about, Yoko?”
It wouldn't hurt to try, so she did. It was slow work, unravelling, unknotting, untwisting, unfolding. What was that stupid thing about tying ropes with the rabbit going under the fence and into the hole? Yeah that, but even more annoying, which was not helped by the Vampyre off-side growing increasingly impatient just out of view, but oddly enough he did not snap at her. Small favours for small people. “I feel like these have been laid by many hands. Every third thread is an entirely separate affair, and all these witches are giving me strong self-taught vibes.” The sorceress surmised with a sigh. “I'm sorry but this is going to take a lot longer than you'd like.” A scoff from Joachim brought her hackles up. “Do you want me to sneak us through or do you want to get caught? Your decision.” She spat, defensively.
“Such a sensitive, girl.” The Vampyre remarked dismissively. “There is no need for your excuses. It is not you that's to be upset about, now is it?” It was weird to hear her former tormentor make even such a half-ass attempt to assuage her of her hurt, sensitive feelings.
Oh goddess no. Does that mean he really is an empath? Please don't be reading my thoughts, creepy Vampyre man.
“You wanna take a fly-by of the area while she works? I don't sense anything spell-wise in the tree tops.” Julius suggested. “Could kill time and help us out.”
“At great risk to myself, yes of course. How easily you volunteer me for your whims, old man.” Looking distracted briefly, the Vampyre smiled after a time and turned towards Trevor. “I may be older but he looks old. My joints weren't the ones popping when I climbed out of the car either.” With a level look from Trevor Belmont the Vampyre threw up his free hand and caved into the growing demand. “Fine. As you wish, Little One. But you will do me a favour in return.” Joining the hand Joachim clasped with Julius', the Vampyre handed over custody of his ward. “Keep the geriatric one company and stay as close to him as you have been to me. Am I clear?”
“Crystal.” Julius replied on Trevor's behalf. “I won't take my eyes off him.”
Julius' word seemed good enough, as Joachim only hesitated a moment, as if he wanted to say one more thing but decided against it. Instead he wordlessly handed Trevor back the ornate pocket mirror and took off. Yoko would never have guessed his batty fur would be snowy white. The younger man tucked the gift back into a pocket and sighed. He listened, however, dutifully hanging onto Julius' sleeve when the elder hunter was ready to let go. In the peace and quiet free of angry grey eyes leering at her work, Yoko plucked away. Julius pulled out a short telescope and started snooping around visually, passing some time by showing Trevor how it worked. Between the two of them, one Belmont Hunter spotted some deliberate damage to the roots of a distant tree. A scraping, Julius insisted, and most probably from a boot. The beginning of the drag looked to be rounded. And fairly large. Plausibly the large boot scrape of a certain Dhampyre. The news didn't necessarily light a fire under Yoko's ass, but maybe some encouraging thoughts gave her enough oomph to pick at the task more efficiently. It was still not quick work, but no longer as gruelling. Her focus lay on where Julius or Trevor spotted the tracks, and she sought to pick their pathway there.
Exhaustion fraying her concentration, Yoko paused to take stock of their surroundings, and give her brain a welcomed break. They were much further into the thick of the woods, and the sky was purple and blue. Had she really been pulling magickal threads for hours? A quick study of the duelling looks on Trevor's face, shifting between worry and boredom confirmed that yes, she really had been guiding them through the yarn-ball of hazards all evening. No wonder she was so tired. No wonder she had not realized Joachim had returned, the Vampyre's pointed ears twisting towards whatever went bump in the eve as he occupied himself braiding and undoing increasingly complicated plaits into a very patient Trevor Belmont's hair. Julius traded back and forth between watching the pair with a passive look of amusement and searching the sea of trees for any sign of movement or danger.
“It's okay if you need a rest.” The elder hunter was the first to break the long silence, giving her permission to slump against the closest tree. As she closed her eyes to stave off the migraine, Julius filled her in. “Our Vampyre scout hasn't seen hide nor hair of anything moving in the woods, nor anything else that might have been helpful, for that mater. This coven must be keeping themselves hidden by some other magickal means. I think we're going to be relying on you a fair bit more, Yoko, so take the time you need. Do you need anything? Water?”
“I could use some, yes. And a snack, since you got em.” The sorceress thanked the older man for his canteen and mused at the fact even the wrapping on his meal bars made no noise. Leave it to Julius to buy something based solely on how crinkly the wrapping was.
“Do you need some spectral energy?” The Vampyre asked in a quiet voice, but he may as well have shouted based on how much it startled Yoko. “I could spare some if it will make you work faster.”
The offer, while sounding condescending, seemed to be a genuine one. The sorceress eyed the Vampyre carefully and bit the lure he dangled. “Is that even possible?” When Joachim nodded, she stepped closer to peer up at him, intrigued. She'd never heard of such an exchange. Was it truly possible to use another's aura as a... Like, as a battery? “How would I take hold and use your power as my own, exactly?”
“You wouldn't.” Joachim corrected. “I will... allow you in. You will in turn, loop me back into you. Once the connection is made, you will be pulling from me when you try to drawn on your own gifts. I will also be allowed to feel how you are working your flows, as you will feel mine. Perhaps if I am able to pick up how you disable these pesky spells without their knowledge, I will be able to assist with their removal. It will be faster with two pairs of hands doing the unravelling, correct?”
“Two pairs of hands working off one source of energy.” Yoko pondered out loud, mind wondering about unknowns. Truth be told, the sorceress wasn't exactly keen on the whole idea of squeezing inside the creepy Vampyre, metaphysically or not, but she would do it for her poor grandfather's missing Dhampyre. Something wasn't sitting quite right with her, however. “You were already tired when we met in the garden, Joachim. I could sense it. Wherever you came from was far away and it took a lot out of you to get here so fast. Is this going to be too much for you? Especially since we'll both drawing on your reserves if you are a quick enough learner to assist me?”
“Little girl... Really.” The Vampyre rebuffed with an arced brow. “My 'tired' is fathoms beyond your rested state. Don't insult me with your concerns.”
A glance at Julius told her all she needed to know. The elder hunter gave her a pointed look and left the decision in her hands. She was the arcane expert, after all, so who else would know what was best? Yoko was going to have to keep on reminding herself this was her wheelhouse and even Julius was going to follow her lead when it came to magick. Have the confidence to make the right call already, yeah? “All right, Joachim. Tell me, how do I climb inside you, the Vampyre, in the least sexy way I can stress I am asking to?”
“First you will need my permission to flow into me, which will require that I touch you. That is permissible, small girl?” The Vampyre half informed, half beseech, while holding out a clawed alabaster hand for her to take. “I will promise in advance not to bite.”
“Well if you promise, I'll promise not to bite back.” She snarked and reached out to take that offered hand, come what may.
There were no verbal instructions given nor required, as she could both sense and see Joachim's aura grow large enough to envelop her own. Her own skin prickling all over as the Vampyre pulled a thread of her essence and thread it through the needle of his core and then suddenly she was entirely aware of far too much for her brain to handle in that one given moment. In her chest was a heartbeat and pair of lungs not of her own, thumping and expanding counter-point to her own, pushing blood through veins that were not her own either. The out of body while still being keenly aware of her own body sensation was such a struggle. How could she inhale while Joachim's exhale was being felt in her own lungs? The panic set in fast. Yoko could not breathe. Julius was at her side, confusion painting his usually stern features, but he could not seem to understand why she was so stricken and turning blue in the face. Suddenly, she was shaken just shy of roughly, and Joachim Armster filled her vision.
Grey eyes calmly caught her attention and held her until he was all her dimming focus could register. “Breathe in when I do, girl.” Came the soft instruction, drawing in air in an overtly animated way that was easy to follow along with.
So she did, exhaling also when he did so in that slow easily telegraphed manor. For a minute or two, although Yoko would later swear it felt like hours had been drawn out, mage and Vampyre simply stared into each others eyes, syncing up. Yoko feeling her racing heart and erratic laboured breathing patterns relax into Joachim's calm pace. Once their rhythm was not so juxtaposed, she could feel that the Vampyre had already looped their energy around leaving her the reigns to take hold of. This she did finally after composing herself, completing the circle. The sensation of so much raw eager power at her fingertips was an incredible rush. It was no boast at all on Joachim's part. His state of fatigue truly was light-years beyond what she was capable of rested.
“I have never experienced a panic attack before.” The Vampyre murmured. “Even second-hand, it is quite unpleasant. No wonder you weak humans need medication for it.” He did seem rather put off by her anxiety attack.
“You okay, Yoko?” Julius asked lowly by her side, ignoring Joachim's complaints and insults. At her other was Trevor, concern and apprehension worn plain on his face. His hands were wrung nervously.
“Yes, don't worry. I am all right.” She assured them both with a smile. Looking over her shoulder at Joachim she had to give credit where credit was due. “I'll admit it, Joachim. You make for an excellent battery back-up. I feel like I could channel energy all night.”
In response to her praise, the Vampyre simply waved her on. “Then get on with it already. I am waiting to follow along while you sling around platitudes.” Was all she got in return for her effort.
With another look at her Belmont boys, three-way nod shared amongst them, Yoko did just that. She got on with it already, ignoring the sting in her gut that made her hackles rise, resenting the very notion of doing anything that seemed to even slightly to be at Joachim's bidding. She really wasn't, after all. Yoko was here to find Alucard, same as the Vampyre. Familiar as she was with the hands that had weaved the tendrils around them, it was methodical and steady work to pick back up with ease. Her Vampyre understudy followed along closely as she picked apart each separate witch's conjurations. Within forty-five minutes or so, Joachim caught on to her meticulous methods and began to pluck the stray thread of energy.
His pattern recognition was sublime, and Yoko begrudgingly complimented him on it. A compliment that only returned a dismissive grunt. Regardless, Joachim's help made the work almost a breeze in no time, considering how easy it was to pick up a thread only to have him slide a knotted ward out before she even had mind to change her essence's flows to work it out. Two skilled arcanists, simultaneously unravelling a tapestry of protection in record time, while their hunters directed along the tracks they were convinced Alucard had left in his wake.
Well into the night they came across the corpse of some kind of mystical little creature. While Yoko was unfamiliar with it, Julius told her what it was in hushed details as she worked. Some kind of Japanese fae that had no business out in the heart of the woods, being a trickster type of creature more suited to the outskirts of towns. Soon enough they passed by more of them, which was in itself telling and morbidly hopeful. While it did confirm there was something out here hunting in this magickally warded forest, Alucard's also carried a strong affinity for such beings like fairies. The Dhampyre had shared once that he found the fae to be the easiest creatures to dominate with his Force of Will, and make his familiars. While explaining, he'd also confessed the distaste he had in doing so, which made sense given his public Demon Ambassador status as well as behind closed doors liaison and peace brokering work for government bodies she now knew about. It would be highly hypocritical after all for both Public and Private Alucard to subjugate and dominate wills. Still, Yoko could see him resorting to it in an emergency, however... Or in his current roaring rampage of revenge.
About an hour after the first fairy corpses started popping up, Trevor broke out of Joachim's grip, nimbly avoiding the Vampyre to run ahead. He stopped dead only a few meters away, hesitantly bending to pull what was a mostly obscured heavy black coat from up out of the foliage. Even in the murky dark, the gold details were unmistakable. It could be none other than Alucard's coat, and Trevor's expression grew distraught. Clearing the area of the warding webbing in a wide arc with Joachim's help, Yoko allowed Julius and Trevor to fan out, finding not only the dark gold threaded cloak, but the Dhampyre's abandoned sword as well. While Julius rolled the cloak up and stuffed it into his bag, Joachim held out a hand to take the oversized weapon from Trevor, deftly strapping it onto his back.
It was not a good sign. The Vampyre's muttering in a foreign language sounded like an endless stream of curses or profanities. Probably both, Yoko reasoned. “Trevor...” The sorceress began when she caught sight of the younger brunette's face near crumpling in on itself for that split-second before his features were wiped smooth through sheer effort, and he donned the black coat. Pulling both ends together tightly, as if trying to wrap himself up in what remained of Alucard, Trevor took a deep breath and met her gaze. “Trevor...” She shook her head and pointed out the grown-over but still visible break in the grass and brush just beyond them. “I don't need to be the world's most proficient tracker to know someone was dragged off just behind you. Do you think...? I mean, it had to be him, right?”
Julius' eyes followed hers to the disturbed shrubbery, and he closed in on Trevor to take a better look. With one hand on the younger Belmont for support, he gave a firm squeeze. “I'd say you're on the money, Yoko. Dragged off is the better of the options we're down to at this point. Dragged means he wasn't dead.” Julius stated as firmly as he gave that grasped shoulder another reassuring squeeze. “Alucard was taken alive. Nobody would drag that much dead weight around if they didn't have to. They would have burned his corpse right here.”
To Yoko's ears, the explanation of Julius' thought process sounded blunt and harsh, and hardly appropriate to serve as a soothing reassurance, but paradoxically it seemed to have worked on Trevor anyway. Legit had to be a Belmont thing. Sound logical reasoning more comforting than any sensitive beating around the bush or wishful thinking. Joachim was also now right by the younger hunter's side, pulling him back into close proximity with a terse reminder to stay close lest Trevor be the next one taken alive. That comment too was not taken as abrasively by Trevor as it sounded to Yoko's ears. Rather than bristle at the insinuation he was easy pickings, Trevor gave Joachim a weak smile and fell in line wordlessly. Well... Everything he did was technically wordless these days.
Not wanting to be the sole outlier not giving her some kind of reassurance or advice, Yoko gave her grandfather a confident grin and promised fiercely. “I will get us there soon, wherever it is they took him.” Leaning in for some tension breaking humour, she smiled more brightly and added. “Your boyfriend weighs a tonne. So they can't be far now.”
With a cursory look back at Joachim, Yoko took another deep breath, drew on the Vampyre's power, and resumed picking her way along the path of the disturbed brush. There was a river up ahead they could all hear at this distance. The hunters, human and demon alike were on high alert, and instinct made them close in around the anachronistic man in their midst. The Witch's prized sacrifice. The one she'd evidently branded with her mark. They sought to protect him for probably as many different reasons as ones they shared, and proceeded with the upmost caution along the path laid out for them. The path Alucard had walked... Or been dragged. It was another thirty minutes of tense silence before they all stood before the final illusion guarding the Witch coven's secrets. The breadcrumb trail was over.
When Yoko slipped them through unnoticed what was revealed was a small, low, dark cave entrance. Yoko herself would need to double over in which to enter. The entrance near perfectly blended into the surrounding stone and vegetation. A perfect hideaway. They all ducked into the tall grasses, watching and waiting... but nothing stirred. No sounds carried on the breeze, echoing out from the cavern. Still, they peered at the small opening, as if daring themselves to enter. Yoko even darted her eyes over to watch Trevor, mouth slightly parted, breath quickening. She watched Joachim mindlessly run a hand along the smaller hunter's back as if urging him to stay calm and not rush off, grey eyes seeing further into the murk than any of them could. There didn't seem to be any other way to attack this than a frontal assault, Yoko realized. A look at Julius told her the elder hunter was in agreement on that.
“We have no choice but to walk in spells and holy weapons blazing.” Yoko whispered, catching all the attention of all the men around her. “If Alucard is still alive, they must have him in there.”
“I agree...” Julius' eyes and grip on the Vampyre Killer steeled. “Joachim... What say you and I stir up a little bloodbath? I see no other option but to hit fast and hit hard.”
The Vampyre studied the Belmont Vampyre hunter coolly for a measured moment, but with his mouth drawing into a firm line, he nodded. “Little One, you must find Kitten while the old man and I take our due. If Kitten is harmed, as I imagine him to be, he may be feral. You will need to remember that out of the pair of you, it is you, little Rabbit, who is the fiercest one. You will need to bring him to his senses as only you know how. That is understood?” When Trevor's distraught expression firmed into one of grim determination, Joachim stood and stepped out of the brush. “I will find you, Little One. If you are in trouble, I will be there. Keep my mirror safe.” Shifting form into a white bat, the Vampyre darted inside. Julius was hot on the bat's heels.
Yoko waited a few minutes to give their death-bringing distractions a chance to get into position and make the first strike before she stood. Joachim had left their connection intact, she realized. Joachim was giving her carte blanche to rain down fire and brimstone, and she fully intended to take advantage of that opportunity. Trevor was at her side in an instant, the whip she'd helped Alucard make for him already unholstered and ready. “Alucard is in there.” Yoko insisted. “I know it.”
It was Go time.
*****
2037 ~ In agony, alone in the dark
Searing.
Flesh a pelt of slow fire.
Innards a churning mass of acid scars.
Mind a fractured husk.
The seal was fading.
The choice was life... or keeping the seal until death.
The seal would be broken if life was chosen.
The seal would be broken if life was lost.
The only difference was personal agency.
Either death came with noble intent and sacrifice, holding out with the last shred of what was left, or life came with cowardice, failure, and terrible consequences for the world beyond.
Life chosen, even still, was not guaranteed.
So why all the suffering? Why bother holding the seal? In the end those seeking what was sealed would win.
Because it was the right thing to do? Why did it seem only he was ever suffering to do the right thing? Had he not sacrificed enough? Had he not given enough? Was his debt for crimes passed not paid? Were it not his right to lay down the sword and walk away?
It was so dark... The acid had taken his sight. It was so quiet... The acid had taken his hearing. A dull blur to go with a dull gurgling roar. They paired neatly with the dull burn. Nerve endings mercilessly overstimulated to the point they could no longer accurately communicate the agony.
He was being moved, carried, dragged... It didn't matter. His dull agonized flesh laid out straight. Energy depleted, nothing could be hidden from the foreign aura travelling along his body. The foreign energy violating his person. Two shapes, both a blur. He did not need to see them with clarity to know they were danger. They were to be feared. There would be no defence or grandstanding against them. The victim could only wait, submitting to what was to come. Unwanted spectral fingers squirmed in his gut, wriggling through his sinew and viscera, turning him inside out to expose all his secrets. It was a rape unlike anything other. Hot tears fell as his violation continued... And then... They found it. He'd lost in the end. It was all over.
The seal unravelling enchantment broke through, shattering wards, purifying curses, pulled apart his last pool of essence from what his magick had hidden away for thirty-eight years. His aura's last gasp, released unwillingly from self-imposed duty, spared him an inch from death's grasp. That last gasp returned, his unfocused blinded eyes drifted towards the shapes above, and his lungs used that last breath to plead. Not for himself. But for reason. For decency. For everyone above his watery grave to have a chance at a life without the curse of the Castle upon them.
“Please don't...” There was no way of knowing if he was even making a sound that could be heard, or just wasting what was quite literally his last breath. “This is not the way. You'll see... But it will be too late when you do. Please... just please.... don't.”
The stones were pulled. The anchor the last to leave his ravaged body. A hollowness all that was left. The blur darkened. The sound deafened. In that final moment, scent returned. Faint Earth and Sky. Trevor's scent. That was so kind...
To have Trevor's memory blanket him on this final... agonizing... battleground. This final resting place. A place he would never be found.
Alucard... No... Adrian.
His name was Adrian, and he was just another casualty of this never ending war.
Notes:
It's Latin for the "Occasion for War". I hope I saved you a click.
Chapter 37: What Remains
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 2037 ~ Den of Thieves and Murderers
Julius Belmont, at the ripe old age of fifty-eight, was not a man in the habit of jumping into anything half-cocked. Whether that had always been a proclivity of his, a vaguely remembered holdout from his army training and enforcement, or an over-correction habit adopted in his post-amnesia days to repress the sense of feeling so lost all the time, he really couldn't have said for certain. Nor did it really matter this late in the game, such an ingrained habit it now was. The man liked his prep and his precautions, and he took pride in doing his best to anticipate for himself and his companions, any of the curve-balls that always seemed to come flying when Alucard was involved. Dracula's son, Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş. Julius' thirty years long Wild Card to consider. Why did the Belmont war hero feel such a need to overcompensate, one might ask? The answer was really quite simple.
Alucard was cursed.
Julius had settled on that fact over two decades ago, from years of working alongside or off-side the Dhampyre in his new world post-amnesia. He was fairly certain he'd come to the same conclusion prior to losing all his memories. They'd apparently gone back as far since he was a boy training under the late Jonathan Morris. Julius was certain his teenager self took separate cabs and had refused late nightcaps with the Dhampyre. He knew there had been drinks slipped his underaged self by Mister Morris. Julius could remember the weathered ancient man sliding a beer over with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, even after all this time had passed and in spite of his memory wipe. But Alucard had never been in those hazy memories, and the memories he did have of his younger days of the Demon Prince truly hammered his opinion of the existing curse home.
The evidence spoke for itself. Bomb-threat or active shooter at a convention, conference or assembly in the news? Always seemed to happen when Alucard was a guest speaker or special invite. A quote unquote easy recon and bag and tag job for a devil or demon blow up into a huge thing that played out egregiously wrong for all the dumbest, asinine reasons? You bet your ass Alucard was a consultant or contract agent on the Hunt. Every time. Even the small annoyances were not spared from his curse. Extreme, extended flight delay? Nine out of ten times, Alucard had a ticket on that same flight. Cruise ship leave your luggage at the previous port? Your luggage must have been bumped up against Alucard's. Luncheon or large catered function screw up all the orders, portions, and religious dietary outlines? Alucard was obviously one of your guests. Cream you just bought, still in date and all, found spoiled in your fridge? That's because Alucard is the one who made the pot of coffee you were going to use it in.
Cursed. Utterly, unequivocally, horribly cursed!
Julius could not even say with any certainty that Alucard's bloody curse was not the true reason the seal on the Castle when he tore Dracula's soul from the Crimson Stone had stolen the first half of his entire life. But he held no grudge and placed no blame on the misfortunate Dhampyre. Really, what was past was long passed, and the only thing that mattered at this immediate junction was the accursed predicament unlucky Alucard currently found himself in. Preparation and precaution would only take them so far in resolving this conundrum, however. That in mind, Julius dumped his backpack outside the cramped cave entrance alongside Alucard's sword where they would be obscured by the rocks and brush, and followed on the beating wings of an alabaster bat, slipping out of sight into the murk of unknown danger. Not fully prepared for what lay beyond by a long-shot, but without the luxury of an alternative.
The tunnel opening was not only low enough to require doubling over or crawling, but deceptively short, a deep drop dangerously close to where ones eyes will still be adjusting to the change in light, and camouflaged sufficiently by hanging exposed roots. Julius had to ease himself down using the roots and jutting uneven rocks as hand and footholds, entering as silently as he could into the yet another murky channel, head still requiring a bend to avoid clonking himself on the noggin by those same roots and rocks. Silently stepping forward, body grazing the wall, he followed the only pathway that was available. It was long and there was little of note. It seemed almost made to dissuade anyone who stumbled across as thinking it lead anywhere at all. So much nothingness and claustrophobic tightening of the tunnel, for long enough to give even this old man some second thoughts. His heart and breath sounded like the whupping of a helicopter, and just as loud in the deafening silence, though he knew that was all in his head. It was only because there was nothing else to distract him from the internal sounds of being a living creature, as well as the slight tinnitus hum in his right ear.
And that was what bothered him the most.
The silence. Cloistered away in such a well spell guarded hovel, nigh-impossible to find on foot for most was this place stiller than the grave. Based on the abundance of evidence and logical rationing, this was the place these witches were congregating. Inside these underground hewn out halls should be where they felt safe and secure. This should be where they felt they could drop their guard, for no human, demon, witch or otherwise could be on high alert at all times. It was an impossibility. Julius should have heard a noise or two echoing down this pathway he crawled. Their chatter should have carried. A sign of life should be evident. This hair-raising quiet should not be what was deafening him.
Creeping ever closer to what seemed to be a widening gyre of stone, swirled pattern evident along the walls, he found the white bat, ghostly in appearance, hanging upside down from the coiling roots above to peer into the gathering area. Seemingly formed from the very bedrock itself were several stone tables and benches. By magick means, no doubt. Scattered on these tables were signs of previous habitation. Refuse in the form of empty boxes and partially crushed cans or waterbottles. Half-eaten bags of chips and crackers. What wasn't apparent was signs of active people in this space. There was a dust settled. Light and thin. Hardly noticeable to an untrained eye. Days old only. The lack thereof of these people gave Julius an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach.
What if this place has already been abandoned completely? He pondered with a deeply creased brow. I can feel the Veil thickened of late. If the Castle's easiest access point is moving back to Wallachia or who knows as it appears to be... Have these women already moved on? If they have Alucard, what purpose would there be to take him with them? Julius paused, breath hitched. A stray thought seizing his mind. Is this rescue mission in reality... a retrieval instead? A body retrieval mission?
His pensive fear grit his teeth and stole his focus, foolish as it was of him. In so much that he nearly startled when the white bat flit back down soundlessly from it's perch, materializing as it's true Moroi form. Bloodless lips so close to the elder hunter, he felt them brush the shell of his ear when the Vampyre finally spoke. Julius forced himself to keep still, fighting deeply rooted instinct to not have a Vampyre's mouth inches from his vulnerable throat. Fear clamped down, he tried to listen to anything other than his beating heart.
“There were hundreds or so of them here at one time, I can smell their distinct scents. But they have faded. Days old now.” Joachim's whispered breath was hot against his flesh. “There are some still here, deeper within this maze. These scents are fresh. Perhaps two or three dozen. Depending on their talents, this may be a cake-walk, old man.”
Knowing the vamp's hearing was a thousand times better than his own, Julius only exhaled his reply, too faint a noise for any but the Moroi to register, even his own. “They have run. You feel it as well, how the thinning Veil is no longer in these lands? It will shift in time back to Romania, and if they knew so much as to track it here, they will know to track it back to Wallachia or wherever it decides to pitstop. This is looking poorly in Alucard's favour, I fear. Unless this contingent you are smelling is his guard... We may be too late. The best we can hope for if they are not... is that they took him with them for some reason.”
Joachim's silver eyes bled crimson and Julius watched his pointed ears twist forward to better listen to something beyond the hunter's scope. “I do not freshly smell my stupid half-breed, though he did pass through this chamber.” With a barely audible huff, the Vampyre's teeth grit. “Follow me, Belmont.” Came the order. “I will get to the bottom of this.”
Declaration made with such bold confidence, the Vampyre stood and moved. Soft leather blue coat creaking the only announcement to his presence. So it seemed, to Julius at least, that Joachim was done with recon and speculation. The Vampyre intended to meet these straggler witches head-on, with or without his help, judging by the clear purpose in which he walked. Still, it didn't quite sit well with Julius just yet. There was still an unknown factor he held serious concerns about. Before Joachim could get too far away, Julius asked in that same exhale of air.
“What of the creature that was in the woods that night you watched over us? The one that had you so spooked you sat with Alucard for safety until morn? Is that creature further inside or you do not smell or sense it here right now?”
This question halted Joachim in his tracks, and he turned on a heel sharply, abruptly before Julius' crouched form to take him by the shoulders, entirely undeterred by the Vampyre Killer that was placed between their close faces. “I do not spook, old man.” The accusation shoved right back down the elder hunter's throat, Joachim continued to hiss. “My caution is and has always been guided by cool headed logic. If I had caught one whiff of that monster in this cave, I would not be here still. Adrian has made his bed already, in so far as I am concerned. It is my affection that drives this clinging hope I have that he has not foolishly gotten himself killed. Follow me or not, Julius Belmont, I do not care which way you choose.” And then he was back to striding into the vacant cavern. Midnight blue coat creak, creak, creaking away.
Julius sighed inwardly and stood. The Vampyre Killer his hand had found easily when Joachim pounced without conscious thought let out a small, hallowed glow as the hunter war hero followed his most recent odd bedfellow. Joachim seemed to have locked onto the source he intended to unleash his wrath upon, so Julius padded along after, following the Vampyre step through the labyrinth of tunnels and break-away chambers. The elder hunter stopped occasionally to peek into the barren rooms, surveying similarly disquieting emptiness. Rooms that had once been used as dormitories, stray socks and mittens strewn about in a hasty pack-up. Another few were clearly former apothecaries, mostly emptied save the dregs or scraps of potions and ingredients. Hardly worth the space they would take to have packed up in a quick flight from this dwelling.
Joachim's creak, creak, creaking took him purposely on his chosen path, so Julius continued to follow along after, noticing how the caverns wily twists and turns brought them lower and lower into the earth. When the hunter at last caught up to the Vampyre, he found the demon slowing in pace before finally halting to kneel by another low arched doorway. This one opened out broadly to a joint-purposed workshop and ritual chamber, stony dais and tools all laid out. Around the centre platform at the base of the magickally carved stone stairway lay a still pool of water. The depth of which Julius could not properly judge from his current vantage point.
True to Joachim's headcount, there was somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five women below in the chasm, chattering below as they worked to gather tools and supplies, unaware of the threats that watched them from on high. These women and... girls? They felt safe where they were, laughing as they went about their tasked in unhurried paces. A glance spared in Joachim's direction told the hunter all he needed to know. The Vampyre was going to enjoy himself to the fullest extent, and for once, as a Church licensed hunter, Julius was going to stand beside a demon and help it wreak it's havoc. These women had absolutely no idea what was about to be unleashed upon them.
Still... There was more than vengeance and twisted pleasure to be obtained here. So in that breathy exhale, he reminded the Vampyre of that fact. “We need a witness, alive. Preferably, I would ask that you spare that child I see down there. She looks barely fifteen.” Whether the Vampyre heard him or not was not in question, but rather whether or not he would heed Julius' request. Guess he'd just have to wait and see the outcome.
Julius sighed, outwardly this time, and watched Joachim shift back into a bat and take off towards the heart of the chasm. By the time the hunter's deliberate heavy climb down the stone-moulded stairwell had the attention of the startled gathering of witches, Joachim's sudden, heavy landing as he shift back into form amongst them had the coven's stragglers outright scattering in a confused panic.
“Good evening, ladies.” The vamp greeted with a smile. All teeth, and none of the humour that should have accompanied it. “I seem to have lost a Moroi idiot around these parts. Pray tell, have you seen my Dhampyre?”
Greeting quickly drowned out in the growing alarm and commotion, the whip, wands, and spectral swords came into play soon after.
*****
In Shadows and Silence ~ A lingering soul
Earth and sky.
Such a familiar scent.
Comforting scent, promising safety and salvation.
Nigh-ambrosial taste.
Such nectar on the tip of a tongue, but life deep within the circulatory system did it return.
A pulse was in his veins, under the skin, setting fire and lights off. Humming along now steadily, growing, spreading. Erratic at times, but finding it's rhythm. Wild and all together tame at once. Succour under the tongue, down his throat. Steady mouthfuls filling his belly. There was the return of sensation. Coolness of stone against his fired back. A low roar of sounds, indistinguishable from each other with such damaged, useless ears. A shape was bent above, blurred due to acid ravaged eyes. The sweet life-giving nectar was being shared by the shape. The sweet succour, so close in taste to what he most desired. That ambrosial honey. So painfully close, he could imagine it was the real thing, and felt just as bereft when the substitute for his hunger pulled back. The narrow shape was moving away now. Familiar angles and lines, even when distorted. Comforting and desirable even as a ghost. The life it had shared, the hollowness it had left in it's wake when finished, spurred him to crawl, to follow.
Where could it be going? What reason would it possibly have to leave him now that it has pulled him from the brink? That familiar shadow and scent. It was close enough to the genuine article, he could make due with it. What more than that familiarity he could ever ask or hope for? What more could he expect of his desires fulfilled, as he was now blinded and deafened? Nothing. There was nothing.
Please come back.
The shape couldn't understand him, he realized with a sense of devastation. It kept moving further away. Or perhaps it was that he could not be understood? His voice was gone. Like his sight and his hearing, his sound too must have been burned away by the rush of acid water. Painful, dark water.
Yes. Waters. A cell made of water.
Here he had been a just a pitiful prisoner, stripped of cloth, autonomy and dignity. Manipulated and robbed, bargaining his body piecemeal for paltry mercies here and there. That same battered body laid out, prone and vulnerable, for violation after violation. But now he was free of the silver. Injured feet miraculously held his weight when he managed to climb to them. Cramped stiffened legs quivered, but he could steady them with concerted effort. The faint gurgling of water just beyond his useless ears and vision called to him, the possibilities that lay just beyond far too tempting to surrender to fear. He knew the path the shape had taken. It was the same one as that loathsome... foul... foolish... vile woman. The woman who had taken from him what could so easily end the world in the wrong hands, or the right hands depending on how one looked at grave matters. Anyone's hands at all. It was the very nature of such a Chaos entity to sow endless discord, separating fools from reason and playing on their ambitions. Urging them to ruin, be it their own and anyone else within the splash-zone of their self-destruction.
This ceaseless madness and war against worldly Order could not be allowed to continue, so he had to get out. The prison could not be his grave if he was ever to get the stones back. Blind, deaf, mute, it mattered not what trials and tribulations lay ahead. He would get them back. There was no other choice. A white-hot rage was building in his gut. Flames burning so brightly it was hard to remember anything else but the woman and her shadow. That Witch. That damned, blasted, ambitious fool, so utterly misguided and lead astray. So many mysteries about her left to solve, and retribution to be torn from out. Yes... she would suffer for her choices. Now a mighty tremor wracked his body. Not weakness, no, and not fatigue either. This was nary the tremble of a dying demon or a dying human. It was fury made manifest. Righteous anger for a righteous avenger. And of course... Hunger. Ravenous for her blood, he was. For the blood of all her hangers-on. The whole lot of pitiful fools. To spare even one he could not permit now.
There was no other course of action. The Witch... She was above, and he below. How else was he to mete out her punishment? The only way forward was to reach her. He had no choice but to... to swim. Justice calling, he did just that very thing that had seemed impossible until this moment. The searing pain along his flesh was nothing compared to the fiery rage smouldering inside. Memory guided the way through acid and suffocation. With how many times he'd watched them come and go before the acid took his eyesight, it was easy to judge. Familiar shape's familiar tasting nectar warmed his guts and pulsed through his body. His aura was strengthening with every heartbeat, and with it came access to so many of his dormant talents. Free of the draining locks, obscuring charms, and countermeasure curses once placed to hide the Anchor, all his power was free to return with time. With sustenance and patience he could finally be whole after thirty-eight years. After all, with nothing left to protect inside, all could be put on the offence. Arcane powers now within his grasp, there was more than one way to see the world open to him. Now he saw in flashes of energy. Various colours and hues, painting his former darkness with neon and glitter.
Lungs long burning, the first gasp of air was near as sweet as the nectar still on his tongue. The acid dripped away. Stone - dry stone - was under his feet. Neon and glitter danced around him. Threats, every one of them, but trivial given the weakness in their vibrancy. These were no warriors he met in this particular battle, but then again, war had all kinds of causalities. First blood had been drawn by their High Priestess. Surely these foolish girls should have known there would be a counter-strike. No mercy was permitted. While his ears twitched in their direction by instinct, useless as they were, it was not needed to aid his attack. He did not need to hear or see them to evade and dance around their malformed, broken battle formations. He didn't need to hear them plead as they no doubt must be. There was nothing these militant zealots could say that would stop him anyway. White-hot anger made him swift. Faster than the streams of colour flying to and fro the fingertips of his enemy. Neon blurs scattering at his approach. Neon above and beyond racing for the tunnel entrances like the rats they were. It was valiant effort... Just a shame they were not as swift as he, those hues and sparkles. Those twinkling life forces, reeking heavy with terror.
Oh, how visceral the intensity of his pleasure was when he caught them. Hands shredding flesh as if they were ribbons, his teeth devouring whole, mouth and tongue drinking up the remnants. It wasn't enough, so little retribution claimed. So little a stream of the blood flowing when what he wanted, was owed, was an ocean. It was too slow this way, it seemed. What needed to be done wasn't a man's job, but the devil's. It wasn't Alucard that would win this fight, but Dracula. The mighty dragon's dark arcane arts, accursed and blasphemous, spewed forth from him. From his tainted lineage a dark metamorphosis took over, draining essence, stealing their very souls. Their power now his, life forced ebbing away, he came for what was left, that pulse deep within.
Bone. It was their bones that got in the way. No matter, really, this cage of ivory. So easy to crack. So easy to pop open. Almost cathartic, the brittle tactile sensations felt through his fingertips.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Tiny bone cages failing at keeping the blood from his tongue. How pathetic their construction. Anger flared anew at the momentary stumbling block. Why, he was quite certainly justified in being sick to death of cages. Tear them all down! Shatter them all! Leave nothing left but what had been ground to dust beneath his bare foot. These prisons would not stop him any more than the silver cage had. Claws free of the flimsy barrier, they tore into the nexus of the closest fading neon hue. Yes... Yes! There it is, just waiting for me! Beating heat finally in his hands. Pumping, thumping it's last against his flesh, great rivulets of life swallowed down between chunks of spasming, dying muscle. This was the well from which all of the blood he desired sprung. He consumed it all. Flesh, muscle, veins, and blood. There was only one problem. That was how the beating lasted so little once he begun to jailbreak their black hearts. He needed to find another. Another humming heat was required. His appetite would be sated with no less.
The neon beings were fleeing, scattering, tripping, panicking. They wanted to get away, but he would not allow it, not now. They had had their chance to hear reason when he'd spoken of it to their High Priestess. Now was the time to reap what they sowed. More of Dracula's dark arts and blood magick sucked the life force from out his prey, weakening them, slowing them. Ah, yes. Here is one that will do just fine. This one he now had felt much smaller and lighter in his hands. Was it that he was growing stronger? Regaining his strength? He felt that he was. Little ivory cage, won't you free your crimson canary? Let me feel it sing in my hands, if I cannot hear it. It was effortless when one's morals had been traded in.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
Another bone prison easily broken into, snapped like dry twigs. Another beating heat torn from out the soft cavity just beyond. Teeth in flesh. Muscle. Copper on his tongue, running down his chin, fingers, arms. Splashing across his chest, into his blinded eyes. Swallowing it all down was hard with such eagerness to contend with. With so many others around to tempt his hunger waiting in line. It was just so damnably infuriating how quickly the thrumming heat stilled. Soon enough he needed another. This was hardly what I'd call a meal. Not enough at all. These zealots of yours lack substance, Esteffi! I've not even begun to collect what I am am rightfully owed for my pain and suffering! Cowardly neon and glitter kept fleeing into the winding darkness ahead. The ones who try to stay and fight have poor form and amateurish flows. Their spells are nothing to redirect. Their witch-fire lost in his own returning Hellfire. Smoke and char fills his dulled nostrils, and around that the stench of despair. The colours and hues scattered beyond what he could sense in such a hungry, handicapped state. In spite of all he'd consumed, he was famished. Absolutely, irreconcilably famished. Another. That was the only answer to be had. He needed another. If he could not devour another warm beating heat kept in a brittle ivory cage, he would surely expire in the next moment. It was hungry work, being Dracula.
Cowards! The lot of you! You think you'll take the Castle and everyone will bow down to your whims? It's a right laugh. Even blind, deaf and mute, you fear me!
Stalking the trails the colours had disappeared into, he came across two blinding beacons. Neon shone brightly from out the corner of his inner eye, or third eye, it was oft called. These lustrously lucent pillars approached with measured, deliberate movements, unlike the erratic panic of the ones before. Their brilliance was brighter than all the others so far, combined. How beautifully they shimmered, the pair of them. So blindingly bright. So mesmerizingly dazzling. Their cages... He just had to get inside those cages and free that imprisoned life. To drink these ones down would make him whole. He would be rightfully what he was born to be. The Scion of Dracula, restored.
Just then the scent of Earth and Sky sought to distract him. He shook the memory of Trevor away. There would be time for such fancies later, once he had his strength, his vengeance, and the stones back in hand. Inner eye studied the warily approaching pillars, comparing them against one another. Their vibrancy shone in the very different ways their aura's felt against his nerve-dulled flesh, and it was easy to tell what to expect from each. Nimble collection of neon yellows and blues, hot enough they looked almost gold and silver that even an after-image of them lingered as they shifted, was to his left. On his right was a smaller collection, hot pink and orange, burgeoning purples and indigo roiling up from beneath. That one... The Warm coloured one... Trading the focus of his senses between the two, it became obvious. Too obvious. Who else could they be? Why else did he smell the lingering hints of Trevor so strongly, if not for the presence of his too perfect twin?
I have you, Witch. Mouth curling viciously, he did not need his ears to hear the snarl that reverberated in his chest. To think that you would come back here after you thought you got the best of me. Did you intend to gloat? Perhaps spit on my grave or my corpse? What foolhardy overconfidence! What arrogance!
Estefania's stupid pet had betrayed her by giving him this second chance. A simple demon with simple desires, intent on keeping it's chosen mate around at the cost of both their lives. He could still taste the nectar of the single-minded creature on his tongue, and it brought about a cruel sneer in response. All he had to do was stay out of Arden's range. It was so simple a blind man could do it. A blind man was about to! Arden had already proven it was not a fighter, and he dare say even proven it's cowardice. The Witch though... The Witch! She was something else entirely. Plan committed to in that quick passing moment, he coiled like a veritable viper and lashed out towards the neon pink.
She was slower than in their first duel months ago. Perhaps the lovely choker of scars he'd given her weighed heavy on that pretty little neck, dragging her feet?
The Witch drawing closer would be an orgasmic pleasure he'd snap snap snap clean open.
*****
November 2037 ~ Cradle of the Witch's Coven
Having stalled long enough to give the Belmont Legendary Hunter and his bloodhound Vampyre their chance to get into position, Yoko stepped out of the shadows and stood before the well-hidden entrance that hopefully lead to a missing Dhampyre. Through her connection to that very bloodhound, she could feel Joachim unravelling magickal seals down below with remarkable ease for someone who'd only learned the method hours prior. If she had the time, she may have marvelled at how great a teacher she was. Now was not exactly the time, however, and certain as hell not the place, so instead she motioned for the more youthful looking Belmont Legendary Hunter to follow on her heels and ducked into the cavern. The sudden drop was not expected, but manageable once she got her bearings.
Maybe I should have gone and done that rock climbing after all. She mused, if only to keep the complaints and groaning quietly inside. Again reminding herself, there was a time and place. She gave a smile Trevor likely couldn't make out in the gloom when the Hunter reached out and lifted her down that last few feet of treacherous footing. He was a much faster climber, confirmed, and Yoko decided she probably should do some chest, bicep, and grip workouts in the near future. It was going to be required if she intended on swinging that whip in the future.
It was Trevor who took the lead once she was safely on the ground this time, stepping lightly – The Fox-Walk, Yoko made note of with a little spike of satisfaction in spite of just reminding herself about the importance of time and place – down the dark narrow passageway to an uncertain destination. In the eerie silence that stretched on for far too long down far too narrow a crawl, Yoko's little feelers started to twitch, picking up the high energy of a being that was doing it's very best not to try and hide. Murmured warning passed along to Trevor she followed the slender hunter cautiously out into the open chamber they at last came upon. Nothing stirred, but at some point this had been a well-used gathering area, seemingly evacuated in a bit of haste. With a hand on a shoulder to still, and another to point towards a down-turned hallway to direct, Yoko wordlessly clued Trevor into the source of the presence she was feeling.
As the pair slipped into the low-ceiling breakaway, a raucous panicked cacophony arose, growing louder with every passing second, echoing frightfully off the stone walls. It had to be Julius and Joachim making their move, she determined with grim finality. There was no going back now. So she pressed on, drawing on Joachim's arcane energy pool when a closer scrambling collection of shrieks arose from the depths she and Trevor were currently descending into. Around a sharp bend they came face to face with a terrified handful of women, tripping over themselves to flee whatever lay below. Yoko found herself in a standoff for what felt dragged on longer than the actual seconds it lasted, everything happening in slow-motion. The girls, wild-eyed, blood-splattered, and stuck in a continuous scream, she and Trevor alarmed and made wary. But with a harsh shake and a screech of 'fuck them, run!', the most sensible among the women urged them on in their desperate flight, leaving the interlopers to face whatever was worthy of such a frantic escape.
Yoko traded a wary look of her own with Trevor in the dark he was close enough to see clearly, and she close enough to make out his mirrored back. The slim hunter did close in their own ranks, fox-walking slowly and directly ahead of her now, as if meaning to protect her with his own flesh and bones if necessary. Yoko had a twinge of... something... in her gut. A comforting twinge laced with a vague disappointment in herself. It was easy to fall in line, pretending the back of the brown head before her was Julius', and thus easy to pretend she was still the student following the master once again. It was her nerves taking control, and she knew she should be braver, bolder, or whatever. Swallowing hard, the sorceress did just that. Stepping out to Trevor's side so that whatever the fuck sent a handful of witches running scared had to meet them as a united front, she felt that twinge of disappointment fade just when Trevor just gave a nod and continued on. No chivalrous insistence to protect what didn't want to cower behind him. She was grateful for that.
Until they rounded that last bend and came across a bloodbath. Then, cowering behind a man didn't feel so damsel-in-distress-y. She was super distressed at the sight! And not alone, as Trevor also briefly looked like he wished he could cower anywhere but where they found themselves standing.
It was a looming wraith, bloodied arms and legs, crimson dripping from mouth onto it's beard and from there down onto it's chest, that stood in the juxtaposition of natural orange remnants of flickering flames against unnatural blue witch-light. Blue and orange highlighting the red and black stripes charred into it's exposed alabaster skin. So large and imposing even without accounting for it's physical stature in the equation – which was freakishly large – it was the sinister dark arcane energy flowing from it that struck fear into her very core. An evil power, forbidden in her school of magick, sought to drain the life essence straight out of Yoko and Trevor before she gathered enough of her wits to shield them as best she could from the vacuum. The wraith did not appreciate her cutting the feast down to rations, and now had turned it's full attention upon the stunned pair.
There are corpses, Yoko notices, littering the disarrayed chamber that opens up into an eerily still lake. Blackened husks are strewn about the upturned burning chairs, over a large stone table, or simply on the floor where they fell. Most of them... are mutilated. In torn pieces. It turns her stomach. She knows she's horrified, but she can't take her eyes off the body cavities torn wide open, organs in various states of spillage. The sight and stench is sickening, stomach and bowel contents oozing out of barely recognizable human remains. Yoko fights the urge to hurl, she can't do this, not now, not in front of such a terrifying threat, and forced her eyes back where they belong. On the wraith. Trevor pulls her back tighter to his side as they stare back at the monster peering in their direction, casually devouring a torn free organ... a heart, she thinks. When had she stepped so close? Why had she stepped so close!? The wraith let out a low growling sound, almost a purr in terms of how it rolled in the acoustics. It is not the noise of a fearful animal trying to scare them off. It is the noise of a pleased demon, about to get it's mark.
Horror in her eyes and a shudder making it's way down her spine, it's in that moment Yoko hears a low strained voice at her side utter the first word she'd heard in long-drawn weeks from the man. Trevor Belmont at last breaking his silence to voice a dangerously low, imminently urgent warning. “Dracula.”
For a few minutes as that dark power flares up against her ward, making her skin crawl and her aura combined with that of Joachim's flails out instinctively against the incoming Force of Will that has now singled her out specifically for the next attack, Yoko believes it. She believes wholeheartedly that the Witch has somehow pulled off her scheme. Even though the Castle feels locked behind the Veil still, and fading fast from the access point in this country, that this Witch has done it. She's caught it, or at least a tendril of it, and already succeeded where Graham Jones and Celia Fortner failed. She's half-resurrected this wraith of Dracula, incomplete and feral, but a fraction of unfathomable chaotic power was still too much in anyone's right mind. But then as the red glowing eyes, milky white at the pupils, bore into her, her mind stumbles across the terrible truth. The tangled filthy hair and beard, grime, gore, injuries upon his body, wild expression, and then the sickening evil energy emanating from deep within... None of this could keep hidden that the monster intent on preying upon her next is the very Dhampyre they have come to rescue. And as soon as she realizes the grim fact, it seems Trevor arrives at the same conclusion as well.
This shadow of Dracula... Is Alucard.
The hunter at her side is quick to cut between them, to intercept the Moroi with the murderous glint in his glowing red eyes before Alucard can reach her. Yoko stands there briefly, stupidly, stunned. Thinking, has she ever seen Alucard's eyes glow like that before today? Before this very moment? Red eyes, yes. But seemingly burning up from inside like they are now? It's a pretty foolish and pointless thing to wonder about when death was coming for her. The wraith-like apparition of her friend and partner pivots quite suddenly, as if afraid to even risk being touched by Trevor Belmont. Whatever voice Trevor had found to warn her about Pseudo-Dracula over here, he's seemingly lost again, as Yoko can see how desperate he is to just say Alucard's name... The real one. The one his parents gave to Alucard, who in turn gave to Trevor to use, that Yoko respectfully did not, because the Dhampyre never gave it to her. But she does now in an attempt to break him from the survivalist spell the wounded Dhampyre is clearly under.
“Adrian!” The name is foreign and weird on her tongue, and it has no visible effect she can see, so she tries again. “Alucard!” That one sounds more natural, her tone softer and steadier than she feels, conveying how deeply torn and concerned she is to have found him in such a broken, frightening state. His head does not even jerk in her direction. She can see his ears moving, but they are twisting in seemingly random ways, as they do when he is trying to narrow in on a sound's origin. It's like he can't hear her at all, she starts to fear. Alucard is preoccupied, doing his best to stay out of Trevor Belmont's range, careless of the bodies, upturned furniture, boxes, crates... Anything tripping him up or was in his way he crashed or stumbled over trying to keep a wide berth from Trevor. Or... Was he really so careless?
Yoko stepped forward, wards held high to protect from the drain, to get a closer look. His glowing red eyes were... Glassy. The pitch black pupil even when his irises bled red with hunger or anger that she expected to see, was instead a filmy white. Almost scar tissue-like in appearance. Was it that Alucard... Couldn't actually see Yoko or Trevor? He didn't seem capable of hearing them either. She watched his body turn as he stumbled to keep Trevor Belmont at bay, but she could see Alucard was not following the hunter with those milky glass eyes. Her stomach dropped. Is he... Blind? Did these witches out here in the woods blind her friend, she wondered painfully. Anger and despair replaced the horror and fear up-churning her gut. How dare they!? How dare a random assortment of misanthropes mutilate another living being!? She stepped closer still. The red and black stripes on his skin, they were burns, far too numerous in number to count, and made from consecrated silver. She'd seen what it did to demon flesh more than enough times to know. The burns were primarily concentrated on his shoulders and backside, but they were everywhere in the end. No part of Alucard had been spared. His flesh was mottled with angry red lesions and abrasions, arms lashed with the same deep stripes of char as she found on his thighs, knees, and shins. He was a mess. He had been tortured. He had been mutilated. It was no wonder there was no getting through to him.
In a mire of heartache and pity for her dear friend, Yoko's guard dropped. Understandable given the revelations made, but that was her dire first mistake. She'd known better, too. Yoko had seen Alucard feral half a year ago. It seemed so much farther away than it was in reality. It was probably why she had forgotten, briefly, the painful lesson learned that day in the hospital room. That Alucard was Moroi, and within him was everything that came with being demon. Agency lost, he was feral. So when in her moment of weakness her ward faltered, the wild animal backed into a corner seized the opportunity she allowed to counterattack. Dark forbidden energy skewered through her, momentarily robbing her of both the air in her lungs and the strength in her legs. The drain on her life-force resumed, feeding into the Dhampyre's black aura. In the precious seconds she had to realize how wrong she'd been to allow herself the distraction of such emotions, she could see that even Trevor Belmont had now been knocked off his feet and struggled to find them. Struggled against the Force of Will. Struggled against the drain on his vitality Yoko had allowed by being a idiot.
Alucard did not waste his opening and the crushing weight of him pouncing on her small body was as painful as it was terrifying. “Alucard, stop!” She tried in vain, gritting out her pleas in complete agony. “It's me, Yoko!” His ears did not twitch, nor his eyes move. As if he could not register anything familiar in the body he was about to assault. His vile sneer and viscous laughter set her veins to ice.
“Snap, snap, snap.” Raw hiss of a voice let out, a cruel smile twisting the face of a man she knew was anything but what he displayed right now.
Yoko failed to cry out as his fingers – the ones not crushing her throat as her voice was choked off, pinned as she was to the ground – dug into her side, claws shredding straight through her jacket, her shirts, and then her skin. Fraught with abject terror she tried to buck him off her frame, but of course the Dhampyre was so large and so heavy, the act was futile. She was pinned and her vision was fading from a one-two punch of lack of oxygen and stabbing, slicing pain. Then to further add to the nightmare Alucard...moaned. There was no other word for the noise escaping him as his sharp-tipped digits wriggled deeper inside her until he found what he was looking for. There was an intense pain and an audible snap.
Strangled or not, Yoko screamed. The noise her snapping rib dragged out of the rest of her body one positive thing. Her focus was now drawn back on the present moment, all senses heightened and firing on all pistons. The energy line threaded through her pulsed strongly, and Yoko would later swear that she could feel the Vampyre Joachim still tethered to her aura give her that metaphysical push needed to get her back into action. She pulled on that lifeline of Joachim's shared pool the demon surged into her grasp, flooded her agonized body with it, in turn overwhelming Alucard's ability to siphon it off her. Free to channel, with electricity crackling at her fingertips, she pressed her palms against the torso eclipsing her and let the power burn right through the Dhampyre menace's flesh. The intensity of it literally blew him off her, sending him careening back into the stone table with enough force to crumble the edge of it.
Pain still pulsing and air hard to gulp when every breath pulled at her broken rib, Yoko still clambered to her feet, ready in time to bat away the Dhampyre's retaliatory Hellfire. This next dance she intended to win, deflecting his magick and then throwing more at his assault then he could eat away at with whatever this essence-draining ability he'd been hiding from them which he was currently abusing. It seemed to disorient the Dhampyre, the overflow and excess of energy. He looked uncertain, like he no longer knew where to fire off his attacks. Aura's of course. He's been tracking our aura's to fight us. So with everything Joachim's giving me, he can't tell what's what anymore. She pulled on so much of Joachim's power Alucard was blasted back down to the ground a second time and then she even had enough in reserve to slam down more powerful wards over her side of the battle. To protect her self while she prepared the final trap, but also to shield Trevor, who having taken the full brunt of the original drain was just now getting his bearings. It truly was an evil, devil-spawn arcane art that Alucard was throwing around so easily. A spell that could devour one's very soul. It must be why she'd never seen him use it before. It was not a power to be used lightly... if ever.
With Trevor re-entering the fray and Yoko's Vampyre assisted disorienting power surge, Alucard's singular focus upon her broke, and instead of continuing the flurry of spells flung her way, he now dodged. The Dhampyre, for whatever reason, seemed to be as afraid of coming into contact with Trevor Belmont as he was intent on tearing her to pieces. She could see Trevor quickly surveying the unfolding situation as he moved. Her laboured panting and pain along with the telling blood soaking her side and down her pant leg. The dark energy eating away at the shell Yoko kept him bubbled safely within. How suddenly stricken with fear the formerly vicious Dhampyre was of the one person he loved so much, Alucard had walked off alone into the place they now stood. Alucard was only here because he loved Trevor Belmont. She could see the conflict play out across Trevor's face. Yoko was his family. Alucard was just as loved by Trevor as the Dhampyre loved him. He didn't want to hurt his 'Adrian' just as much as he couldn't let Alucard continue to hurt her.
In spite of everything Alucard had just done to her... She felt the same. “He's blind and wild!” She called out to the hunter over the roar of flames and crackling thunder. “And he's either unwilling or unable to listen to reason!” With a gasp of sudden, sharp stabbing pain to her rib, Yoko grit out. “I think we need to take him out, Trevor. We need to subdue him. He is far and beyond talking it out at this point.”
Her plan of attack Trevor reluctantly agreed with. The whip at his side once again unlatched and the hunter sprung into action. Tide now turning in her favour, Yoko advanced, gauging when and how she could take the Dhampyre down with her trap, hopefully without too much permanent damage. They just had to get him under control. Make him realize who they were and listen to what they had to say. Make him understand that they didn't want to hurt him anymore than he already had been maimed by these cruel witches' torture tactics. Alucard was now openly fearful, trying to stay away from a hunter who was swift and harboured no such handicaps as injury or blindness. In spite of severe reluctance painting his expression, Trevor was able to corner the Dhampyre with the aid of a few well aimed silver throwing blades tossed with only the intent to drive the Dhampyre where he wanted him.
It was a dangerous, deadly tango between the two, Trevor Belmont stepping in tune with the demon in the dark, always gaining ground, always closing in on his chosen dance partner, no matter how much Hellfire the Dhampyre threw in his direction. Trevor moved between the flows, singing little more than his clothing, hands busy mixing up a vial of what turned out to be the same alchemical formula Julius utilized to make his holy water bombs. It had to be a Belmont family recipe, Yoko distantly surmised. The shock of the holy assault allowed Trevor to make that final leap, landing on the Dhampyre to deftly restrain him with the very whip Alucard had made for him with Yoko's help. It was almost poetic.
The Dhampyre keened in what was clearly a cry of shock and fear, but restrained or not, his strength was the desperate surge of a terrified animal, and he almost looked as if he may escape the hunter's hold. Trevor struggled to get the loop around Alucard's arms tight, and catch and encircle each of his wrists with the taut leather, his light weight in comparison to the Dhampyre's a clear detriment to the task. Yoko watched the struggle intently until she at last found her perfect moment to strike. Sending thin dagger shards of ice directly into Alucard's main elbow and knee joints – Thank you, Ms. Martin's Biology classes! – which incapacitated him just enough for Trevor to finally get the leverage he needed to secure Alucard in place. Physically restrained and weakened by the consecrated silver threaded weapon against his flesh, Yoko was at last able to slide a seal down on him. He could flare up all the arcane arts he wished, they weren't leaving his body while she was around to say otherwise.
The pitiful Dhampyre was letting out a dreadful, mournful sound. Defeated and anguished. Just... An awful noise. It was heartbreaking how terrified he was of them. Even still, he snarled at Trevor who pulled him in close, teeth and fangs bared. No amount of gentle touches, or trying to sooth terrified nerves seemed like it was able to get through to the feral Dhampyre. They had him, subdued. Captured... for lack of a better word. They had technically won the battle, but were now at a loss of what to do with their spoils of war.
Without any other ideas, Yoko tried speaking to him again. Maybe he would be able to listen now that he could not fight. “Alucard... Please try to calm down. It's your favourite sexy sorceress and the love of your life here. We are just trying to help you, Al.” Nothing but desperate struggling snarls and glassy milk-white wide eyes in response. “Al, can you understand me at all? Are you even hearing me?” Again the Dhampyre gave no sign that he had, and Yoko was not enjoying the struggle it was to clamp down and seal his magick with Trevor Belmont so close. “Maybe try knocking him out? I am having a hell of a hard time keeping him from roasting you alive at this angle, Trevor.” As if to punctuate how super not easy it was keeping the son of Dracula in the time-out chair, Yoko missed patting down an errant flow, leaving Trevor Belmont to pull a strained expression in response to the heat rash immediately evident on his left hand and forearm. “Seriously, how do you take down a Dhampyre without staking him through the heart? Please tell me you have a solution to this problem we have, famous Vampyre Hunter of Old.”
Trevor, giving her a forlorn apologetic look, simply shook his head, and Yoko wasn't sure she knew what to make of that. Was it that he did not know of one? Or did he know but he wasn't properly equipped to do it? Was he puzzling out a plan? Was he going to tell her the plan? Did they just stay here forever and this was their whole life now? Or... Was Alucard really about to get skewered right before her eyes after all the trouble the went though to get him safely in hand? She hoped not, as she watched Trevor shift enough to maintain the hold while still freeing up a hand to cup Alucard's face. His grip was gentle but firm, sliding around the back to avoid getting chomped on while he twisted the Dhampyre's face towards the light, all in service of assessing the damage. Yoko didn't like what she saw from her few feet away. He was certainly blind, and now she was also starting to suspect deaf as well. All the flesh on him that did not have blood stains looked rubbed raw with sandpaper or something equally abrasive. Alucard didn't respond well when Trevor placed that same hand against his chest, uncaring of the gore still splashed there. Rather his eyes were drawn to the blood splatter, a thoughtful expression quietly spreading across his face. It was a silent Belmont Pause, Yoko realized. The affectionate term Alucard had for Trevor's inward escapes coming to her from out of the blue.
It took a minute for her to register Trevor was now staring at her, waiting. Holding her gaze the hunter sighed, committed now to something, and then gave her a brief, but broad disarming smile. A silent 'trust me.' Yoko didn't like that. Not one bit. What bright idea could possibly stem from running your hand through a complete stranger's blood splattered on the chest of the guy you were sleeping with? None, is what Yoko would have said. But not Trevor fucking Belmont! Trevor fucking Belmont did not think like normal people. Yoko opened her mouth to ask what he was going to do but instead what came out was a strangled, panicked “What the fuck, Trevor!?” As the hunter struggled to get the Dhampyre angled in such a way, using that free hand to shield the very most vulnerable part of his naked throat.
Stupid plan in action and still holding that whip restraint taut as hell, for good reason, Trevor fucking Belmont then decided it was a great idea to pull the seething feral Dhampyre in close, turning his head to the side at that last vital moment in order to facilitate that feral savage Dhampyre's goal of sinking his teeth into the captor that held him. The angle of the bite as orchestrated by Trevor was more on the left side, closer to the bone and muscle near the back, and less of a throat-tearing kind, but it was still dangerous and completely idiotic to let a Vampyre, half or otherwise, get you exactly where they wanted you. No one who had those fangs in them got away. No one but... well... A Belmont. It didn't work on them unless they wanted it to. Still.
“Seriously, Trevor, what the fuck!?” She spat again. It looked painful. Nothing like the seductive nip and suckle in all those Vampyre romance movies and novels. It was an ugly messy chomp. There was an attempt to tear, but muscle and bone were not as forgiving as skin and veins, and as Joachim had succinctly put it, Alucard's fangs were tiny... and cute. Like a kitten's in comparison to a lion. So it looked painful, but Trevor would live. It would just be another scar on that too thin body one day.
Apparently Yoko needed to learn to have a little faith. Against all odds, after barely sixty seconds of contact with Trevor's blood spilling out the corners of his mouth, Alucard at last stilled. His anguished and fearful expression smoothed out into a unworldly calm. The oppressive Hellspawn energy simply winked out, glowing red eyes faded to pallid yellow, and then a milky, rosy, pinkish colour she had never seen them change into before. After the pink, if they changed again she couldn't have said, as the Dhampyre closed his eyes and his entire frame relaxed into the Hunter's restrictive restraints. Leaning his entire body into the flesh that was presented to him, Alucard simply drank quietly from the well that had been the messy wound the initial bite... chomp... started as. When Trevor unlooped his wrists, he used the freedom of movement only to slide his hands into place, one around the back of Trevor's head and the other to grip at his hip to start, before sliding neatly up into place at the narrowest part of the hunter's waist. After another quiet minute or two, Trevor decided it was over. A deft flick of his wrist freed Alucard completely from the silver weapon and gathered it together to re-hook. They'd won.
He would have to forgive Yoko for keeping the seal and wards up. She wasn't as trusting when it came to feral Moroi. So he would have to forgive her as well for not giving them the privacy to indulge in whatever it was they were doing in the cradle of the witch coven. She kept her eyes and senses tuned on Alucard in case he lashed out again unexpectedly, passively watching her great-grandfather use his new freedom of movement to reciprocate the gentle embrace... Gentle when you discounted that one of them was currently lapping up the blood of the other one. Fuck knows, maybe Trevor was into that sort of thing. Still, after a few more minutes of silence save the water lapping at the rocks just beyond and the tongue lapping up the blood just before, Trevor used that gentle but firm touch to pull Alucard from the wound. His face was strained from the pain of the nasty bruising bite, but otherwise he just observed what was to come next. Whatever it could be, Trevor did not seem worried about it. Just ready.
Looking at the wound now without Alucard attached to it, overall Yoko decided she had won the award for most badass battle-scar. The Moroi Menace had broken her fucking rib. But he seemed soooo done to her when she studied his face, settling Yoko's internal debate. She dropped her seal but kept the wards. She wasn't going to drop those until she was back in her bed in Wallachia. It hurt to breathe, so this whole witch thing could go fuck itself.
There were tears slowly building and falling from those pink cloudy eyes, Yoko noticed suddenly. Alucard felt around Trevor's body to find the injury he'd caused, closing his hand down on it as if he could make the blood spilling all go away, take all the pain back, with just some pressure and a sorrowful expression.
“I missed you so much...” The Dhampyre's voice was rough, low, and beyond strained. “The thought of you kept me grounded... kept me sane. I dreamed you would come every hour, but I never wanted you to, Trevor. I fucked up so badly, you have no idea. You have no idea and now it's not safe for you. Especially here.” The Moroi was rambling, but in such an exhausted state, it was slow and laboured instead of the usual frenetic pace a ramble usually ran at. “I am unable to hear or see you, Trevor. I don't even know if I am talking sense. I have no idea if you can understand me. But if you can...” Trevor was quick to take his hand and give a squeeze. This gave the Dhampyre pause, and he hedged a questions. “Can you understand me? Am I making any kind of sense?” Another squeeze. “Do it twice if it's true.” So Trevor obliged, and the Dhampyre let out a half whimper, half laugh. “It's really you. You really came for me.” Another two squeezes, and with that matter settled Alucard lost the last of what was keeping him on his feet. If it wasn't for Trevor, he'd be laid out face first on the floor.
Yoko knew from experience that Alucard was heavy as fuck, so she didn't judge Trevor too harshly when the pair of them ended up on the floor anyway after a while, if a more comfortable curl and cradle around each other than what would have been Alucard's attempt to bring planking back into style. The wounded subdued Dhampyre looked so torn between relief and regret, but it didn't seem to be for the reasons Yoko was expecting, like being a big dumb idiot who decided to go out into the murder death suicide forest solo looking for a witch because he was butthurt his loverboy was wronged and he didn't know how to fix it. No, instead he seemed entirely convinced that as happy as he was to 'see' Trevor, he really needed the hunter to get the fuck out of the witch cave pronto. Even if it meant leaving him behind. Which was also very stupid and idiotic of him, considering Yoko could tell that whatever the life draining power he had been using was, without actual life-forces to consume as fuel, he had instead consumed himself during their battle. The man... half-man... whatever.... was dead on his feet. Not even on his feet. He was dead on his ass. And he was Moroi. He was half-dead to begin with!
“I am so sorry, Trevor.” The Dhampyre was now stuck on repeat, apologizing over and over for various things. For leaving Trevor. For scaring him. For making him come here where he was not safe to get Alucard when Trevor really needed to get the fuck out of the witch cave before some Esteffi found him. But also for random weird things that Yoko had to assume happened hundreds of years ago. Like making him sing half a night to distract Alucard from the pain of some burns... Obviously not these current burns. He apologized for grabbing Trevor so inappropriately by a fountain. He apologized for insisting Trevor wear the dress so many time, and Yoko really, really wanted to know the story behind that one apology. Based on how fast and how deeply red Trevor flushed, the Dress Incident had to be a great campfire tale. He apologized for everything and anything, murmuring them all into the hunter's sweater where his face was buried, lifting his head only to next apologize for something Yoko felt was precious and intimate, and not meant for her ears at all. “I kept thinking about everything you've ever said to me, every exchange, every little moment. I wanted to remember them all so I could take them with me if I died here. I'm so sorry I never realized, Trevor... You told me and I never realized. I never... I was so caught up in the moment. You were so beautiful it distracted me from what you were really confessing. That night in Lupu... You let me see you. All of you, you said. You told me I was the only person you ever wanted to let see all of you...” Alucard cracked, and... Trevor followed suite in response. Whatever secret moment the Dhampyre was now apologizing for, it was obviously an apology Trevor had been waiting years to hear. “You were mine that night. You have been since then, and I never realized until now... But I see you, Trevor. Even blind and deaf, I see all of you right now.”
The moment was pregnant with so many possibilities, said and unsaid even an outsider like herself looking in could see. Heartache, longing, and so many bittersweet things all played across Trevor's face as his tears freely fell. There was a change in him Yoko observed, almost imperceptibly small, but it was still there for a trained eye to perceive. How the sharpness of the hunter's features smoothed out by an open vulnerability. How his self-assured and often borderline smug mask fell by the wayside, leaving this... Soft, delicate and fragile bereft beauty, looking back at the blind Dhampyre as if Alucard was the one being Trevor wanted to completely surrender to. As if Alucard was already his keeper, and he had been waiting until this very moment to know he could finally be kept. That little shift that had just taken place changed everything about Trevor Belmont, and Yoko finally saw it. She saw why Alucard, the veritable god amongst men in her humble opinion, was so enamoured by this previously ordinary looking guy. Without permission, she found herself now looking at Trevor Belmont how he must let Alucard alone see him. Purely besotted, devoted, offering every last shred of himself for the Dhampyre to take. She'd never seen somebody look that in love before, and maybe she never would again. It all made sense now, however. Why Alucard was just as entrenched as he was, and seemed happy to suffer through so much petty bullshit. Under all of the posturing was a man that could look back at him with such all-consuming love. Who wouldn't put up with the silly stuff around that to keep it?
But then, like a broken record, Alucard ruins his hard-won total seduction of the hunter by kicking back into his firm initial argument. The hunter, in return, looked like he wished he could groan. “I'm such a fuck-up... Please, you need to leave. It's not safe for you here.”
Trevor, who seemed to have a lot of patience for someone who didn't come across as someone with any patience at all, overtly hit his limit with this final loop, tears drying, and mask slamming back down into place. Contrary to how he looked just moments ago, he was still required to be strong and self-assured, after all. Alucard wasn't going to be able to keep him if the Dhampyre remained in such a sorry state of health. Pulling Alucard up from where he huddled into the hunter's arms, Trevor used his index finger to scratch the big capital letters 'N' followed by 'O' on Alucard's chest. “You don't understand, Trevor. I really fucked up. I fucked us all up and the only thing she needs now is you. You can't be here. Please, just go!” Trevor spelled out 'no' again, and when Alucard continued to protest he did it thrice, this time with an exclamation mark whose dot he poked so hard into the Dhampyre, it made him wince. “But the witch... she just...” He seemed to trail off. “The witch.” His features changing rapidly, confusion, realization, horror, and finally settling on remorse. “The witch!” He exclaimed as best he could in that raspy worn out voice. “I thought you were the witch and her fucking pet, Trevor. That's why I attacked you, but you weren't the pet, you're you! Who... Who was the witch?” He asked, looking like he already knew the answer. “Did I..? I... I hurt her. Yoko.” Trevor sighed and gave two squeezes of a hand, and that broke Alucard all over again. “I thought you two were them, I really did. I didn't... I really didn't mean to...”
At this point, they were in deep danger and as much as Alucard had clearly, very evidently, gone through, they did really need him to get it together enough to get the hell out of here. This was a dead-end area with only one exit. There was no way Alucard was going to be able to swim through a lake without his fancy little charm to protect him. So Yoko stepped into range and knelt down by his side, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder, on a swatch of skin that was free of blood and gore. The Dhampyre slid his bloodied hand over it and Yoko allowed in spite of the squick factor because her friend needed to know she was okay, and that she wasn't mad. Not right now, anyway. She thread her other hand into his gross-ass hair and gave a few soothing little scratches, before removing it to take his large hand in both of hers.
“Yoko...” She gave two squeezes of her own. “Are you... all here? Julius too?” Another two affirmative squeezes later and Alucard looked more relieved that guilty. “Then will you both please get Trevor out of here before that cunt and her serial rapist get back here and take him!?”
“Wow.” Yoko choked. She was not expecting that out of him. Really... looking at the state of him, it was deserved. But still wow.
“I have fucked up so badly and Trevor is the only singular thing standing in her way now. She can't get him, Yoko. She absolutely cannot get her hands back on him!”
Trevor seemingly had enough and stood, dumping the love of his life on the ground like little more than a sack of potatoes. Yoko was a bit surprised, finding it a little harsh, not C-word harsh, but still harsh. But something across the room had caught Trevor's attention, so Yoko left him to it and tried to calm a now frantic Dhampyre through hand squeezes and face strokes alone, to try and communicate that no, a witch and the Lilû had not just bust in to sweep Trevor Belmont away. Thankfully Trevor returned shortly, throwing black fabric straight into Alucard's face. The Dhampyre patted around to find what had been tossed at him, nose flaring slightly as he took in the scent.
“These are my clothes.” He concluded, and he was right. It was the plain under shirt and pants he wore on hunts, under his dress-shirt – Yoko never asked and he never explained – and the fancy coat and cloak. Trevor also knelt back down and took them from his hands, separating top from bottom and giving the shirt to Yoko. She assumed to dress the naked man and not to admire the thread count. Which felt really high and luxurious for an undershirt. Rich people, right? She was glad she got the face part and not the dick part to dress. Trevor was quite considerate to divvy it up that way. “I can barely move. I'm just going to slow you down.” Alucard tried to protest as she got his arms up enough to thread through the sleeves. Trevor took a moment from shimmying the pants up to reach out and traced a few underlines where he had previously written the big 'NO!', as if to emphasize it even further. No, Trevor would not be leaving without him. He then added a pinch as if to say 'So quit trying to tell me go.'
“You'll be the death of me one day, Trevor Belmont.” Alucard relented, almost too exhausted to raise his voice to an audible level. “I'm so sorry how badly I've fucked the last five hundred and fifty-eight years up.”
Trevor pulled him to his feet and tried to take a few test steps, but Yoko worriedly could see the Dhampyre wasn't lying about the wretched state he was in. Alucard could barely stay on the feet she just noticed were bandaged. It seemed there was literally nowhere on his body that had not been harmed in some way, and that set her blood back to a boil. This new issue proved troublesome, but Trevor gave another of those silent versions of the Belmont Pause, studying the resigned Dhampyre before his features suddenly brightened. Letting Alucard lean against him, he took a hand and started to draw out letters on the demon's palm. Just three, and Yoko could not make them out. Neither could Alucard, so Trevor did it again, slower. When Alucard guessed 'BAT' correctly, Trevor gave those signature two squeezes. The new YES was catching on.
“I... suppose I can try. It is the easiest form for me to take other than my own.” The Dhampyre whispered. It was not a smooth transformation by a long shot. Nor quick. But he did, in fact, manage it after some effort. Sitting on the ground as a beaten up ragged looking little flying rat, Alucard was scooped up by Trevor and placed in the hood of his sweater, crawling around until his little black bat head poked out over Trevor's shoulder. And there it was. The solution to the large heavy burden to carry conundrum. Now Alucard was portable.
Trevor was looking pretty pleased with his problem solving, and Yoko had to hand it to him. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. She had already been looking at bookshelves to break down and fashion into a stretcher. “Well, I was going to say we should get him out of here stat, but since he's a convenient little carry-on now, you want to make sure Jules and the Creep are still alive before we all four hightail it out of here together?” Honestly they were pretty lucky nobody had come this way already to check out all the commotion.
Trevor was in agreement so Yoko took charge and lead the way back up, if only to hide how much she winced and grit her teeth with each step. Breaking a rib was not fun. She did not recommend it. The wide room above will still empty as they drew closer, but a faint humming could be heard down the other break-away in the stone. Yoko bit the bullet and picked her hesitant path over carefully, stepping into the even gloomier hallway than the one she had just found herself in. Looking for positives, at least this one had some head-clearance. No hunching or doubling over required. Which was great, cause Yoko wasn't exactly sure how she was going to do that without screaming when it was time to climb out the way they'd come in.
The humming grew louder the further down they went, and it became easier to pinpoint where the echoing sound was originating from. It was one of these dormitory looking rooms. Yoko drew on Joachim's well of power and stepped inside, fingers a-crackling with arcane lightning ready to blow up the next witch she laid eyes on... Only to find Joachim himself. Well. Joachim and yet another nightmare hellscape vision she would forever have burned into her brain. Seriously, what was it with these Moroi and their totally fucked up methods of murder? Did they all play with their food?
Joachim, who lay out on the floor with a limp looking body tucked up against his side, was the source of the humming, because of course he was. It was a tune caught somewhere between circus and cabaret that Yoko found sufficiently creepy and on brand for the Vampyre. It really paired quite well with the morbid carousel of dead fucking bodies he had spinning around near the ceiling, impaled on his ghostly little swords, the blood from the little rotating dance lightly raining down. Yoko was going to see this and wake up in a cold sweat for months. Maybe years. She still hadn't even allowed her self to process what she saw Alucard doing in the basement. All signs pointed to yes that that sight was going to be a doozy to get over. She was going to have to hire a therapist for that one. As for Trevor... well Trevor Belmont seemed less horrified than Yoko, but he clearly didn't approve of corpse desecration. Even the corpses of people who had hurt his one and only Dhampyre as terribly as they had.
“Where is Julius?” Yoko demands to know from the doorway, right to the point. She didn't want to have anything to do with what was going on in this room.
The humming stopped, but that morbid murder carousel kept on keeping on. Round and round those limp bodies went.
“I am glad to see you lived, girl. Your fear was so strong I could taste it.” Joachim answered a question she wasn't asking. “I could have done without feeling your bones break, but it's been a long time since dear Walter broke any of mine for the purpose of an attitude adjustment, so I suppose I welcome the memory. The Rabbit and yourself make a fine fighting pair.”
“Jules, Joachim. Where is my cousin?” She tried again, refusing to engage. “I am assuming since you're here, we're in the clear. No one else is home? No High Priestess?”
“I am assuming since you are here you have what is mine? Where is he?” Joachim asked, infuriatingly refusing to answer the simple question.
“Use your eyeballs, Vampyre man.” Joachim finally did at her sass, glancing over in their direction to see the little black bat head poking out over Trevor's right shoulder. “Now where is Jules, you weirdo?”
“The old man ran off chasing what he swore was your Shadow Monster.” Joachim answered absently, climbing to his feet while subsequently dumping the slight body that had been curled at his side. His focus was so entirely on the black bat, he even shoved Trevor's head aside to better look at the ratty thing hiding in his hood. “Oh, Kitten. I can hardly sense you at all. What am I supposed to do with you like this? You are dying right in front of my eyes.”
That comment got Trevor's attention and he shoved Joachim back with a soundless snarl of his own. The Vampyre did not bristle, react in anger, or even make any smug comments towards the violent act perpetuated against him even though Yoko knew Joachim to only ever escalate an issue. He always retaliated to a slight. He never deescalated. Except today he did, apparently. Must be opposite day.
“Trevor.” The Vampyre began gently. Yeah, Yoko had to un-swallow her tongue at that. Gentle! Imagine that! “I need to get him out of here if he is to have any chance of surviving. We are Moroi. We don't fade away slowly like a human over days, dragging it out so dramatically. If we run out of essence then that's it. We keel over. Adrian is extremely close to keeling over. I cannot guarantee that he will pull through.”
This comment got Yoko's attention, so she inhaled sharply and thought fast. “Can't you just rope him in like you did with me? Let him use yours like I have been?”
“It's different spiritual wells. Usable and innate. You are not tethered to what is keeping me alive, girl. I am not stupid enough to let you do that.” Then in a lower mumble, he admitted. “Nor do I even know how to share life itself with another. I might for Adrian if I did.” The swords cut out and the bodies flopped to the floor with a sickening crunch. “Give him to me.”
Trevor hesitated, reaching a hand out to press against Joachim's chest. He had to work his way through coat, harness and shirt to do so, but once those tapered slender fingers splayed out across the Vampyre's flesh, Trevor closed his eyes. Yoko watched their silent little private convo play out a little jelly she couldn't have secret handshakes and stuff too. But from her tether to Joachim's power, she did get flashes of deep sorrow. His heart rate quickening. A bizarre sense of humour about the whole situation. Strangely, she was almost sure she was skimming some of her grandfather's second-hand emotions as well, filtered through Joachim's connection with the hunter and then into her through theirs. Then she felt a sudden out of body awareness of herself, as if she was looking at Yoko the human witch while also being that same Yoko. She continued to feel overly seen until she felt a door slam on her. Tethered as they were or not, Joachim apparently could also decide when he wanted to have a sharing session about his feelings, and sharing time was over.
“I suppose it is fortunate we do not necessarily need to speak words for him to understand us then, now do we Little One?” Joachim spoke softly, still in that gentle patient tone that did not suit the image Yoko had of him in the slightest. The man had just had a murder mobile going on for funsies. He was still speckled with that morbid carousel's collective blood. It was even in his hair. “Girl, grab that one for your old man.” Joachim's voice firmed and he used only his head to gesture at that abandoned body on the middle of the floor. His hands were occupied, one cupping Trevor's face, the other petting Alucard. “He wanted a witness to interrogate so I saved him the child. We need to leave.”
“Child?” Yoko sputtered briefly before crossing the nearest corpse to investigate the seemingly lifeless slight little body in the centre of the room. Sure enough... It was a teenager. She looked fifteen trying to look twenty-five. There was nothing remarkable about her aside from a pretty sick tattoo of a curved sword at the nape of her neck. She was willowy and average in height. Hair blonde, but that ashy kind. She looked dead at first glance, but now that the sorceress was close, Yoko could see her chest's gradual rise and fall. The girl was... catatonic maybe? In shock, most likely. Who knows what she witnessed with Joachim in the mix. “Hey...” She started lamely, unsure what to do with this girl that had been 'spared'. “We're going to get out of here now, and you're going to come with me, okay. I think that is for the best.” With the girl giving her best Trevor Belmont Early Days Truth Bombshell impression, blinking slowly up at her and not responding in any other fashion, Yoko apologized and tugged her to her feet, wincing at the pain it caused her side. They just didn't have time for any of this right here and now. Joachim said Alucard was dying, but it sounded like he must know some way to fix it. “Let's go. I hope Jules chased that Shadow Monster out of the cave and he's just waiting for us.”
She meant what she said. That was exactly the plan in mind when she turned on her heel pulling the zombie girl along after her, and she didn't have any exceptions pencilled in to get distracted from it. She wanted to leave. Not just the cave, but this entire country. She was beyond done with everything. Thankfully the girl was too traumatized or whatever to be anything but quiet and obedient at the moment, so she followed along without much tugging. Tugging hurt Yoko's rib. “So what happened?” She asked over her shoulder to Joachim, who was following Trevor, silver eyes locked on the wounded bat placed back in his hood. “Before Jules ran off. Did you see the High Priestess?”
“No, nothing like that. Just a bunch of women wrapping up an alter room. They are long gone, the bulk of them. The old man was quite disappointed to learn that fact. They did not seem too keen on speaking so we dealt with them in another fashion. That was fun for a while. These are not your ordinary witches, that is for certain. They put up quite a fight.” All this information was easily relayed in that same passive, distracted way he had answered her before, so consumed with whatever was going on in his head, no doubt concerning Alucard... His Kitten. “Some of them tried to break away so I followed and cut them off, driving them into that room you found me in. The old man wanted a witness, as I said, and since he specified he preferred the child not die, that is the one I saved as a courtesy for coming to help my Kitten.”
“Then what?” She prompted when Joachim fell back into studious silence, leading her small entourage almost back into the main gathering hall.
“Then the old man said he could sense it. That Shadow Monster of yours. I watched him run passed the doorway to the chamber I was playing in, uttering some very vile threats to whatever he was chasing. I'll give him credit due. For a geriatric, the man sure can move.”
“And you didn't... help him?” Yoko asked in the middle of the gathering hall, turning sharply to look at Joachim. “You don't even know what he was chasing.”
“Whatever it was, it didn't have any danger to it's aura. I could hardly even catch scent of it. It may be the single most natural scent on a living creature I've ever encountered. Would be a hell of a job to track by scent alone, so I didn't even bother to try. I am not here to chase shadows. I am here to get what is mine.” There was a sudden edge to Joachim's voice, but with little more than Trevor linking their arms like they were out to stroll the Parisian palace groves or some shit and some quiet plaintive urging, Joachim backed down and continued to walk, but only a few paces ahead of Yoko and her new charge before he halted abruptly and pulled Trevor behind him. That chivalrous thing Trevor had pulled with her, but unlike the hunter who had respected Yoko's wishes to stand at his side and fight, Joachim would not give that same hunter the same courtesy.
A lot of things seemingly happened at once.
While Yoko didn't sense anything, she had sucked in as much energy as she could hold in reserve. It proved almost immediately to be a good call, for in the centre of the pair of women that seemingly appeared out of thin air - odd couple stepping out into the gathering hall from where Yoko had found Alucard's massacre - was the far too beautiful raven haired woman that was the bane of Yoko's current existence. The High Priestess stepped ahead of her cronies, a mousy looking older woman with spectacles thicker that those collectible glass Coke bottles on one side, and the Goliath in human form on the other. Tanned bandaged arm raised sharply pointed an accusatory finger right at them. Yoko knew where they'd just come from, because it was the same damn mutilated deathscape that would be haunting her dreams for the rest of her life. She was already adding up the therapy bills, and wondering how much the Church insurance policy would cover. She knew why the woman seething before them was so damned pissed. It had been a bloodbath!
“You are responsible for this!” Her melodic voice hissed, so fucking pleasant to the ears even when she was sneering. Goddess, wasn't that just the worst, too? Fuck, did Yoko hate how far right on the Kinsey Scale listening to that musical little accusation was pushing her. Her loins were growing excited. Twitching with unwanted kegel exercises as each syllable slipped out. It had to be her pet. Now that had to be the Lilû's influence making her so enigmatic and sultry, right? How someone so hot could also be just so damn evil... It was criminal. It was an affront to hot sorceress the globe over. But if that raven-haired lady wanted to go down on her, Yoko would probably say yes. So here they all were.
Mulling the issue over, Yoko settled on her own unique solution to balance this out. Her famous fireballs. She decided to share the Belnades recipe and sent a few spicy ones out first, followed by peels of lightening interspersed with frigid gales and ice crystals. The gargantuan mountain woman was suave, smoothly throwing up a barrier that took some force to break through, which gave her High Priestess a chance to step back behind the mousy woman's secondary barrier. The aggravating stalling tactic at least gave Yoko the chance to see just how this woman was getting around and finding all her neat little hidey-holes. It seemed the High Priestess could sculpt the very earth and bedrock to her will. Straight up element manipulation of a form she has never seen in action before. Her grimoire held no such spells, and her Mother had never mentioned such an arcane talent before. The High Priestess warped the stone of the wall behind her and urged her mousy follower through, leaving only the Big Guns and her very big barriers.
“A little help, maybe!?” Yoko called out to Joachim, Trevor, fuck, even to the mute teenager behind her. Why was she the only one trying to take out the very reason they were all here to start? She chanced a look over to her side only to find Joachim quite occupied already, gaze caught on the shimmery ripple in the light moving along the ceiling. It all came together, clicking in her mind. The pet. Yoko gasped. She gasped again, choking out the warning. “That's the Lilû, you Creep! That's the Shadow Monster!”
The Mountain woman also divided her attention, and now Yoko and she were having a distracted halfhearted fight amongst themselves while trying to keep an eye on the High Priestess' familiar who had decided to make a grand appearance. The shimmer's camouflage dropped, leaving the inky slinky little matte black creature on full display. It squat upside down on the ceiling, seeming to stare passed Joachim and at what the Vampyre was adamantly keeping safely behind him. At Trevor Belmont. Yoko knew this was not good. She couldn't give this wild card they knew nothing about any chance to scheme or whatever it was a Shadow Monster did. Divided attention and divided power, she sent some spicy meatballs in Lilû's directions if only to break Joachim out of his awestruck spell. This too gave her an up close and personal opportunity to see how the Shadow Monster worked, as she saw it's inky membrane stretch out into wings that bat away her fireballs, absorbing the remnants of the conjured energy within itself. Interestingly, from the impact, some of the oily looking substance separated from it's body, gliding like tiny little rainbow oil slicks on the water only in the air instead, before they reconstituted themselves back into the greater whole.
“No!” That pretty voice boomed out, and without any reason to lie, Yoko admitted she felt compelled to cease firing. The woman had a Force of Will. Somehow, she had access to demon powers or traits, and definitely that Lilû was the answer to this puzzling new development. Pissed as she was, it didn't stop Yoko, but it did make her hesitate just long enough to nearly get charbroiled by the Mountain. That was a dick-move. The High Priestess commanded again. “Maja, enough! We have come too far and we have what we want. We will not be dying on this hill.”
The Mountain obeyed, giving one last all-in attack that had to have depleted her reserve given the way she all but fell into the warping stone just beyond. The crash of energy was still too dangerous to lower her ward and do anything about the Witch and her Shadow just yet, but Yoko waited for the next opportunity she'd have. It was after all, just the pair of them against the two of them. Hopefully two if Joachim just would let Trevor fucking go free already to be a Belmont and do Belmont things, and another half, maybe, if the Vampyre deigned to give them one or two saving throws. Who knows what she could count on with him. He was already her spare battery. Maybe it was enough.
“Are you going to let him help me or what!?” She snapped at the Vampyre. “This bitch is why Kitten's all beat up you know that, right!?”
“Girl, really.” Joachim chose this exact moment to lecture passively. This exact moment she was shielding the lot of them from the Mountain's final devastating conjuration. “What is the point of revenge if you don't live to enjoy it? You were telling the truth all along, the lot of you. That is Lilû. My kind's progenitor. I am not going near our sire unless you give me one damn good reason to do so.”
“We're not after Lilû, dipshit! We want the High Priestess. Are you afraid of one measly little human Witch?”
“I fear nothing.” Joachim hissed back, that familiar crazed look returning to his eyes. It was almost kind of comforting to see him a nutcase again. He had been disturbingly reasonable for far too long a span of time for Yoko to ever fully trust what she thought about anyone every again. People were onions. Some really crazy onions. “Fine, Witch it is.” And then the ghost swords came out to play. “But I am not going near that thing, and neither are my pets. They are staying safely right over here.” When Trevor looked as if he was going to protest, Joachim turned sharply and hissed. “You will listen unlike Adrian who endlessly fails to do, Little Rabbit. You have one job at the junction, and that is to keep our stupid halfbreed alive. Am I clear?”
So it wasn't a fluke, Yoko mused, as Trevor had responded just the same way months ago when Julius pulled out the Dad-command voice, which was caving instantly. The hunter stepped back, weapons ready, not to help the frontal assault, but instead to protect the injured bat curled up in his hood. Maybe Trevor Belmont really did just need a firm masculine authority figure in his life to keep him on the straight and narrow. She'd think on that later when she had the time. It was fine anyway. She didn't have to spare the split seconds here and there worrying if Alucard was all right, weakened as he was. Trevor would keep him safe or die trying.
When the Mountain's – Maja, she guessed – spell finally ran out of juice, Yoko was faced with a singular woman coolly running her white-hot rage filled eyes over the Vampyre and herself. She stood close to her rippling wall of stone, half-way between running and staying for a showdown. Yoko had to wonder why she hadn't used Maja's distraction to just weasel out of harm's way like she did the last time. Was it that she too was overcome by emotion? Drawn from logic to distraction by her seething rage, unable to critically choose the best option she'd had, if she really didn't want to die on this hill? Yoko didn't want to wait to figure it out when she could just as easily ponder the reasons this woman was doing any of the things she did while throwing her body on a cleansing funerary pyre. So Yoko didn't. The Sorceress brought out the best she had in tandem with Joachim's swords only to be met not with the High Priestess' barrier or counter spells – although the woman did throw her own up with Maja gone – but the Shadow dropping down from his perch to protect his master.
The inky membrane served just as good as a magickal ward if not more via the large expansive wings stretching out. Every flap and shake brushing off their combined forces, but not without consequence. More and more of the oily substance was getting away from the main body, floating high up and out of reach from the heat of her flames. The substance, Yoko came to realize, was not infinite. There was a set amount of it the creature could use, and the more of it she chased away with her witch-fireballs, the more of it's body became exposed. The black peeling away from it's arms and legs first, shrinking down a low plunge on it's torso. The wings themselves were growing smaller, and the High Priestess still puzzlingly watched on. Like she was waiting for something? The Shadow wasn't attacking, only deflecting. Biding time for it's Master, obviously, but for what purpose?
That too was a question Yoko didn't have too long to wait for an answer. With the amount of shifting Joachim and Yoko had done trying to break through this nigh impenetrable inky wall, the High Priestess now had a direct line of sight to Trevor. The Trevor Belmont she had used as the key sacrifice to her Castle-seizing ritual. The ritual that would have worked if only they had arrived a half or even a quarter hour too late. She was locked on, and Trevor Belmont, shockingly, was just as taken with her as she seemed to be longingly looking at him. “Are you coming or not?” The Witch asked him plaintively. In such a soft vulnerable voice, it was nearly lost in the roar of their spells. Yoko refused to admit there was a familiarity to how this woman spoke to her great-grandfather.
Fuck me. Yoko stared in disbelief as Trevor fucking Belmont... The same Trevor who was so distraught over the the torture and mutilation of his dearly beloved... The Trevor Belmont who had one fucking job, which was to stay back and protect that beloved... That Trevor Belmont... Walked right in between the drawn battle lines and almost took the woman responsible for all of this strife's goddamn motherfucking outstretched hand! He was behind the Lilû wall, given permission and safe passage through by the demon familiar without hesitation on it's part. The High Priestess allowed him to breach her magickal barrier. She had him! All it had taken was to just ask him a simple question, hold out her hand and he walked right to her! “Fuck me!” She now screeched. “Trevor, seriously, what the fuck!?”
“Seriously.” Joachim echoed, features blank and tone impartial.
It was the least likely source that saved the day. The unknown Trump card. Neither the Witch nor Lilû was expecting the paradoxically obedient Trevor Belmont to be carrying a Dhampyre bomb with him when he crossed enemy lines. The bomb he set off standing inches from the Witch, with that one hand he almost took the High Priestess' with, instead reaching into his hood to give the wounded blind bat something to cling to and pull itself free. It happened so fast, Alucard shifting back into proper form and pouncing on the Witch just as Trevor rounded on the Shadow and looped his whip around it's throat like a choke-hold, lifting the smaller creature off it's feet. The noise that supposedly ancient Desire demon made was like a squawking parrot. Just as earsplitting and annoying as the green and blue little bird. It suited it, considering it was currently being strangled by a green and blue whip. Poetry in motion, right? There was a blinding flash of light, but other than dazzling Yoko for a bit, she could see the lithe little demon was not expecting to still have Trevor choking the life out it when the flash died down. Like a good little familiar, it did at that moment decide that if it couldn't help itself, it could at least help it's Master.
The wings shrunk and out came a long whip-like tail in their stead. This was used to snake between Alucard and the woman, their own magickal tug-o-war taking place near the warping wall of stone, and soundly shove the Witch through her portal to who knows where. Blind as he was Alucard stilled, confused, fresh blood on his hands, turning his body towards the last place he'd felt her and lunged. It was too late, though. Without her actively channelling it, the stone wall returned to a fixed state, trapping his arms in the bedrock. Now the squawking sound coming out of the Dhampyre was not too far off from the one Lilû was making. Back on Trevor's side of the fight, the Shadow was proving to be stronger or more wily than him, snaking out of the choke-hold but still unable to shake the hunter from catching it by the wrists. Now the only tool left was the inky membrane it controlled, so it tried to use that, the substance sliding off it's body and onto Trevor's, gliding up his arms, spreading across his shoulders. The more of it that covered Trevor, the less of it there was to conceal the demon within.
“Fuck me.” Yoko uttered again once the face of the demon was finally exposed. What else could she say? If it wasn't for the fact Trevor was wearing clothes, you could hardly tell them apart from one another. The hunter had an inch or two at most over the Shadow and some pants, and the Shadow had flawless skin and double the length of bouncy healthier-looking tresses. That was it. That was where the differences ended. The hair colour, their oh-so-unique eyes... They were both tiny Julius'. They even... both seemed to be pulling their punches? Yoko couldn't quite say about the Shadow, although it still had yet to initiate any kind of offensive and maybe that was just it's nature. To be gentle and out of the way, not front and centre. Maybe the Witch had corrupted it into being here in the first place. But she had grown up with hunters and had Julius around all her life. She knew when Jules was holding back, and Trevor seemed to be doing the same thing. But the Shadow was an animal, and sooner or later a frightened animal was going to fight back. That was just nature.
It was about then that Joachim decided Alucard's predicament was going to keep him sufficiently out of trouble if left on his own, so instead he moved in a blink of an eye to get in between Trevor and the Shadow. Just as Yoko had sensed Lilû was backed too far into the wall to respond in any other fashion but a last ditch attack, so had the Vampyre. She could feel it through their link, his concern and instinct to protect what he now considered his. And that was when Yoko made the second dire mistake of this rescue. She saw it happen. Watched Joachim pull Trevor right out of the inky substance, tearing him free with a visible effort. She saw Lilû's pretty little face grin mischievously, a cat with mouse. Yoko knew that the creature they had seen was ancient and poorly understood according to the erased Belmont Bestiary entry. It was a glutton that did not eat meat. It could fly, glide and swim. But it was not so fast at any of these things, other than gliding from tree to tree. It could also sap all of your strength with a touch, but it had to be skin to skin.
Yoko saw Lilû was practically naked, it's oily membrane all but torn and burned away, floating about in the air all around them. She knew what was fated to happen. She knew she should cut the tether between herself and Vampyre before it happened. But for some reason she didn't move fast enough. She was her own bystander effect, while also being the one by proxy to meet tragedy. Lilû surged forward and kissed Joachim. She didn't think it had to kiss him, she thinks instead that it just wanted to, so it did. Demon logic... Which was to say probably just poor impulse control. Either way Lilû is kissing Joachim, and through him, kissing her. She feels it's effect on Joachim. A Desire demon without peer, overpowering and pulling an equally ancient Vampyre under it's spell. She falls with him. It's bliss. Pure bliss to have this tiny little creature slide up against her body, even though she knows it's going to hurt her in the end.
La Petite Mort.
That thought came from Joachim. She's pretty sure it means little death. She's pretty sure that is just fancy French pomp for orgasm. Joachim may have had one kissing the Lilû. Yoko really hopes so, cause she doesn't want to feel embarrassed and alone by having her own little death solo. She wants the trauma bonding over it later. She wants to joke twenty years later when none of this matters the slightest about that one time she creamed her own pants with a Vampyre because a sex demon sex pestered them. Then the death part of the little death hits. There is another blindingly bright flash of light and Yoko feels Joachim's tether snap against both their wills, There just isn't anything on Joachim's part to maintain it after the flash. They are separate entities again, but she feels hollow, empty, and completely drained. He was truly the only thing keeping her on her own two feet this whole night. Joachim is dazed, slumped, and being pulled away from the Shadow by Trevor.
Lilû is still a runner first, and rather than press forward with it's upper hand, instead takes its first opportunity to scamper off. Yoko can only watch. She can barely move her legs. Trevor is busy trying to get Joachim on his feet, or at least to sit up under his own power. She is too exhausted to help that effort, let alone try and puzzle out how they are supposed to get Alucard's arms out of the bedrock wall. A little pair of hands are pulling her up though. She rolls her head to the side and sees it's the teenage girl she had entirely forgotten about. She was a pretty shitty babysitter, it seems. The girl is still shell-shocked and quiet, but it's clear she now sees Yoko as the safe bet and they're in it for the long haul. Whatever it is.
“That was pretty ballsy, Trevor.” Yoko croaks out, voice harsh from all the yelling over the prior cacophony of sounds. “I can't believe we almost had them both and they're now both gone. You really had me going when you walked right up to her. I don't know what I was expecting, but certainly not what happened.” Trevor gives her a shake of the head and goes back to prodding Joachim, annoying him enough that the demon does crawl to his feet out of sheer spite alone. It seems Trevor only wanted him up and semi-functional so that he could ask him to help Alucard. Trevor's a bit of an asshole sometimes, but Yoko's got a growing respect for just how sudden his assholery strikes. It's a precise science with him, and always self-serving.
So Yoko watches Joachim fresh from the consequences of one brunette little devil's demands get dragged off by the identical twin to do this one's bidding next. The Vampyre is either in his own state of shock, or simply too out of it to do anything but what he's asked. Peeling off his leather jacket to roll up his sleeves and start chipping away at the stone with a few well placed elbow strikes. Between the two of them they do manager to break enough stone free for Alucard to pull out of the rest of it on his own. It's kinds of ironic. The two demons well known for their stamina and strength, currently the meekest and weakest out of them all. Yoko doesn't really find it cute when Alucard and Joachim collapse into each other and slide down to the ground so as to rest against the offending wall, but she does find it very interesting when removed from all ability to care for social norms or propriety, that they easily seek out one another. That even with Trevor here, the kitty-cat chooses to curl up in the Vampyre's lap when given the first chance.
That is what is happening too. Alucard weakly crawls into place, resting his head on the Vampyre's shoulder, arms slung loosely around his neck. He even draws his knees up as if trying to fit entirely within the other demon's confines. Alucard is blind. He can't see that there are others witnessing him do such a thing with such naked vulnerability. Alucard can only feel what he wants to feel, seek out what he thinks he needs. What he appears to need is Joachim tiredly putting a hand on his waist and curling another around his back. It's the Vampyre letting his head fall to the side so it rests against the Dhampyre's. He needs the comfort and safety of the powerful elder demon. Joachim seems to need to be needed by the Dhampyre as well in this dazed intimate little moment. They are both where they want to be, both with who they want to be with, so they close their eyes. Everything else be damned.
Yet strangest of all, Trevor doesn't seem to be bothered by the demons canoodling right in front of him. Rather he seems relieved Alucard feels safe enough to close his eyes and rest for a bit. After some fussing over the sleeping Dhampyre to ensure he's not been further injured by the tussle with the Witch, Trevor nods to himself satisfactorily. The hunter watches them for a moment, reaching a hand out to brush the matted gross hair from Alucard's face tenderly, before doing the same for Joachim. It's not without affection for the Vampyre, either. It's a little weird considering all the pining and waiting and angst he's been slinging and catching to and from 'his Dhampyre', but admittedly, Yoko has never dated a demon before. Maybe this broad open relationship thing just went with the territory. You may fall for a demon and they for you but just remember, they might already have a demon spouse in the wings. Buyer beware. Yoko finds herself contemplating the merits of that demon marriage suddenly. The she remembered they were still down a man.
“I am starting to think something awful has happened to Jules.” Yoko states, watching the demons rest. It's astounding how such white skin can blanch even further under duress. “If he was chasing Lilû then why didn't he chase it back in here?” Of course Yoko is left in the company of the one person who can't answer her back, and a teenager who has no idea who Julius even is. She sighs and is ready to give up and catch five, but the universe has other plans for their merry band. “Why do a hear a roar in this cave?”
That last open question breaks Trevor away from his quiet reverie, staring down at the two demons he's either adopted or been adopted by. His brown head tilts and eyes screw up as he listens. Tapping his ear he nods towards her. He hears it too. That dull roar. Steady and constant, but gradually growing closer. Trevor follows his ears to the corridor leading down towards where they first found Alucard and pauses, listening again. Yoko takes note of how he stumbles back, and breaks out into a run, sliding into place at the demon pair's side to shake them awake.
“That can't be good.” Yoko sighs. Nothing about anything today has been good.
Of course Alucard is deaf, but Joachim is roused enough to take note of Trevor's urgency and then alert enough for his own smaller elf ears to turn towards that very same stone hallway. Whatever Joachim hears lights a fire under his ass. He's snatched his coat and is on his feet with Alucard hauled up into his arms in no time flat. “We are leaving now.” He decrees, levitating up into the air. There is a palpable fear radiating from him as he makes the statement. When Trevor tries to reach Yoko to let her know what the problem is, he is plucked up by an invisible tendril of Joachim and pulled right back to the demons' side, feet dangling in the air uselessly. “I said now, Bunny.”
Yoko is left with a growing roar, an unsettling fear of the unknown, and a teen-aged stranger to care for and keep safe. “I think we should follow those guys.” She tells the paralyzed nervous thing at her side. “I think that would be a very good idea. Let's go.” The sorceress concludes, pulling the girl along after her, dimly aware that their footsteps in the dark are suddenly a lot less clip-clop and a lot more splish-splash.
It doesn't take a genius to figure out what that dull roar is; The cave is filling up. Which is fine. She's fine. Everything is going to be fine. There's only a long narrow winding pathway to cross and a little wall to scale. It's perfectly doable, and they've got the time. The girl is young and while slight, looks like she may have done ballet or gymnastics. Maybe she could even help poor old Yoko with her broken rib scale that last obstacle to freedom, now that Joachim has forced the entourage she was counting on to do so originally to ditch her. Really. She'll be fine. So they do not run because the last thing Yoko needs is for either of them to twist their ankles or break any other bones. The girl and she are going to get out of this together. They do not run even when their steps are burgeoning into a wade. The cave exit is close now, as they can feel the ghost of an outside breeze, and it's a wonderfully hopeful little feeling to have in her chest until she sees by chance alone there is a figure bobbing in the gloomy waters just off side the scale-able wall.
“Jules!” Yoko exclaims before she's even certain it's him. It is, and she ignores all the agony in her side tugging his face and body up out of the water causes. The elder hunter is non-responsive and she can't tell because of the wet and the dark if he's breathing or what. “Jules!” Shaking him does nothing, and now Yoko begins to panic. Things are not fine. Things are not doable. How the ever loving fuck is a teen-aged girl and her broken rib self supposed to scale the wall Yoko doesn't even think she'd make under her own power right now solo while carrying Julius Belmont? The panic and urgency is so dire, the sorceress can't even spare a second to be furious the Vampyre hadn't spared a second to take him with them. There is no way the demon overlooked the injured hunter. Joachim could have taken him along his flight, she's sure. Or come back for him!?
It dawns on her that she is not going to be able to leave him. She'll never live with herself if she scrambles out looking for help that might not be there, because she knows she'll never come back in to try and get him. If she leaves... She'll abandon Julius. She's not ready to make that decision, so she gets the small girl's attention and tells her to climb. To look for a man with brown hair and make him come back to help. Trevor won't leave them. She puts all her chips on the teen-aged witch who has no reason to help her and every reason to scramble away and let them both drown. The girl goes, and Yoko fights to drag Julius up the rocky embankment as high as she can get them without needing to climb. It's the best she can do.
It feels like way too long a time passes, fear churning in her gut that this is it. Joachim took his pets and ran. How did the water level rise so fast? How was it that a cave system could flood like this so easily? So completely? Because it is not natural obviously. The sorceress tries in vain not to think about how she once read drowning was one of the most painful and terrifying ways to die, crying softly as her traitorous messed-up brain does anyway, but no one will ever know that's how she went out, thankfully. Small solace.
She doesn't exactly see so much as she hears the scraping of boots above her, seeing as how her eyes are shut with terror, and she doesn't trust herself enough to open them and find out she was just imagining the rescue. There would be no dignified death if she did. It's the insistence of the hand shaking her that breaks the spell paralyzing her into inaction, and she finds with renewed courage that Trevor Belmont came back for them. It doesn't matter that she's crying now. Great-Grandpa is here and it's going to be okay. It's doable again.
Trevor is urging her to climb, and she can see higher up that his whip is dangling not too far above. A lifeline to the outside she can use to climb far more swiftly out of danger that by seeking out purchase amongst the rocks. When she hesitates, unsure how Trevor Belmont is going to carry Jules out alone, she can see the younger hunter has already considered that problem, solving it by throwing Jules over his back and strapping the old man in place with the Vampyre Killer like a human knapsack. Yoko scrambles as fast as she can so that Trevor can follow after swifter. He's going to need to use his own dangling whip to make it up carrying Jules like that.
There is a terribly loud crash and splash, and suddenly the water level shoots up dramatically, knocking Trevor off the embankment briefly. There is no need to scream, though Yoko does anyway, as the younger hunter claws his way back to the wall and begins to start climbing the old fashioned way until she's clear and out of his way. Knowing the best way to help is to move, Yoko grits her teeth and presses onward. If she breaks another rib or two, or her free floating bone punctures a lung just freeing up the whip for Trevor to save Julius, that's more than a fair price to pay. The crawl out into the early morning light is disorientating, but she manages to turn around and slump just beyond the low hanging stone, waiting for her Belmont crew to make it.
Of course... Just bloody of course... It's not that easy.
The roots the end of Trevor's whip is anchored to is straining under the weight of two men and the roaring water that pulls at them. It's giving away too fast. They won't make it unless she does something, Yoko realizes, but the only thing she can think to do is grab for the braided metal and leather and hold on for dear life. It's stupid and desperate, as there is no way she could hope to support their weight even without the injury, exhaustion and water yanking them back in. But when the root snaps it's Yoko's weak hold on the jagged metal tearing her hands to ribbons that keeps them from the cusp of death. She's dragged back down towards the death chasm and only her boots on either side of the small opening are giving her the leverage to stay in place, hands shredding beyond recognition. Just as it's becoming too much to bear and she screams again, this one a mournful wail that her shitty grip strength is going to be the reason she has to bury her newest family members come dawn, another tiny pair of hands joins hers.
The little teen-aged witch is helping her hold on, and Yoko hopes to get her name after so that she can to call her first born after the saint. Hopefully it's a girl, or this little witch wonder has a unisex name. Yoko'd rather not have a 'Boy names Sue' situation, but she will if that's what it comes down to. Then to both their immense relief, a large pair of hands are brushing theirs aside and blind, deaf, scarred but oh so fucking beautiful right now Alucard is winding the whip handle around his grip and hauls the Belmont brunette duo out. With one firm yank. That the silver is searing his flesh doesn't seem to register, and Yoko actually has to reach out and unravel the weapon to spare him further harm. When she turns back Trevor is already dragging a limp Julius away from the cave, stopping when he's satisfied that they can't possible slip back in to kneel down and pound of Jules' chest until the old man sputters and coughs out a disturbing amount of water. It's a struggle for Julius, and everyone is too shocked or subdued to offer any further help.
Jules sits up with a thousand yard stare into the expanse of the woods, while Trevor wears the same look, rubbing small thoughtless circles on the elder looking Belmont's back as his horrors of war gaze drifts towards Alucard. They're drenched from head to toe, and shivering.
Yoko cries again, and it just so happens the little girl beside her has the same idea too. So she holds out an arm and lets the little witch huddle into her so they can cry together. For a while nobody moves, other than to shiver in the November cold in their sopping wet clothes. Some more wet than others. Then Yoko finds she can pull herself together enough to accuse the Vampyre she knows is watching them passively of his own brand of sublime assholery. “You left him to die.” Her voice is robotic. It has to be because the only other option is shrill shrieking rage. “You fucking passed right by him and left him to die.”
“Please.” Joachim answers her, unseen. She won't look in his direction. “I had my hands full with Kitten. The Little One was sufficient enough assistance until the roots gave way, and when he no longer was sufficient, I had already gotten Kitten back on his feet to offer another hand. You're all fine now, are you not?”
“I can't believe you, but also, I like, can't even blame you either. You're a Vampyre.” She spits out, disgusted. “You don't give a shit, and it's my fault for thinking you would for the briefest moment.”
“Little sorceress, really?” Joachim chides, and she hates how amused he sounds at her vitriol. “Exactly whose power were you allowed to abuse all night, remind me? I risked life and limb for you all tonight, even facing down the progenitor of my species because I had such unnecessary feelings... Because I, if you'll pardon the stolen phrase, gave a shit.” The Vampyre's voice dropped dangerously. “I do not believe in doing for others what they can do for themselves. You were all fine. Combined, you were all enough to surmount this. I am correct, yes? You are all still here, after all.”
“Whatever, dude.” Yoko exhaled. “I don't have the energy for you right now.” Inhaling deeply, she turned towards Trevor and Jules and tried to climb to her feet. With the little witch's help, she made it. “Come on. We need to get back to the car before we all die of hypothermia. Is Julius okay? Is he hurt?” Stumbling over to her mentor, she could see the blooming red soaking his tattered shirt as much as the water he'd just been pulled from. Alarmed, Trevor helped her pull enough of his garments aside revealing four deep gouges raking from his belt to his shoulder. “All right, Jules. Maybe you win the award for most badass battle-scar today.”
To their combined relief, her observation and surrender seemed to shake the old man out of his stupor. He gave a breathless huff of a laugh and let them pull him to his feet. “Who is the girl?” Asking once he had his equilibrium back.
“Joachim saved you her, he says. As a witness.” Yoko replied softly, out of earshot of the once more taciturn teen witch. “She's been cooperative, but silent, and seems to be attached to me. I guess I am the most familiar thing to her out of the lot of us. I'll keep her with me while we trudge back, don't worry.”
“Thanks. I...” Whatever it was Julius had started to tell her died off. He clamped his mouth and shook his head. “Later. People can die of exposure on a summer night under the right conditions. We should move.”
It was enough to get Trevor moving, grabbing Julius' backpack and retrieving Alucard's sword they had hidden just outside the coven's former front door, he balled up the Dhampyre's sopping wet jacket and shoved it inside, replacing the void the from the cloak he handed them to share with it. Gear in hand, the little charmer next helped the girl back to her feet with a sweet disarming smile and a gentle outstretched hand. He even walked her over to Yoko's side to hand off, choosing to carry Jules' stuff for him with another small smile, before finding his way back to where Alucard still stood off-side. The Dhampyre was allowed a moment to collapse into him again, a brief, exhausted embrace, before he was deftly getting that mess of a demon together enough to shift back into a portable bat form. Alucard now stored back in his wet hood, the middle man in the demon love-triangle returned to the Vampyre's side and Yoko watched emotionlessly while the younger looking hunter thread his fingers for just a moment into the side of Joachim's hair, hand sliding down just a little for an affectionate stroke along the side of his face. Having the Vampyre's full attention he motioned with his head that they needed to get going.
Joachim's expression was unreadable for the handful of seconds he stood contemplating the gesture, but he nodded in agreement and started to follow Trevor, the pair of them gaining ground well ahead of Yoko, Julius and their new little witness. Demon stamina on the Vampyre's part, but who could say what was keeping Trevor Belmont so ready for action? At some point they did pause briefly, but it wasn't to wait for the 'humans' to catch up, it was so Joachim could shrug out of his leather coat and give it to the smaller hunter to keep warm, soaked as he was. To Trevor's credit, he did glance back at her with the offered protection against the late November air still in hand, but understood her glare for what it meant, even with the distance between them. She was not Joachim's girl, and no way in hell was she going to wear his jacket. She'd rather stay shivering in the cloak with Jules and the little witch. It was appreciated that he would have given it to her otherwise though.
Trevor seemed to have no qualms slipping into it. Then again, Yoko was starting to believe Trevor was more comfortable when surrounded by demons than in any other situation or company. Must be a Belmont Hunter thing. Surround yourself with the supernatural for so long, it's the more natural to you.
“It took so long to get here due to the traps, but we're nearly half-way free.” She murmured to Julius who walked at the other side of the little witch between them. “I don't sense anything in the woods at all, but I am spent, Jules. Do you think we're being followed?”
Julius was quiet for a long enough moment she'd be forgiven for thinking he hadn't heard her, but it seems he had simply been scanning the canopy and the sea of trees surrounding them. “I don't sense anything either, but... I don't think we're safe, Yoko. I believe we need to return to home base pronto... And I believe it's grown beyond Alucard's pet project. I think Liza's got to hear about this now.”
“I am with you on all points.” Spoken in solidarity, the sorceress added. “Let's talk about how we present this whole ballooning problem later. Like you said.”
Again, there was a moment where it looked like Julius wanted to tell her something but he shut down real quick and shook his head. However, this time the elder Belmont's eyes drifted tellingly towards his younger counterpart up ahead and narrowed suspiciously. Interesting... Yoko mulled over the shift in dynamics. Whatever happened to Julius when he ran off solo was giving him some deep Trevor Belmont thoughts, and they perhaps were not good ones. Julius hadn't even been around to see the Lilû's oh so familiar-looking face that she was aware of. There was so much to discuss and break down, but they didn't have the luxury trudging through the woods with an enemy captive. Even if the captive was a child. She did have some burning questions for Alucard too. He had seen it's face almost six months ago. He never once revealed the Shadow Monster looked like an even more compact version of his boytoy. She cast a glance at Julius and wondered. Are you like a Pokémon, Jules? Do I have to catch every evolutionary stage of you? Which one of you would be the final form?
Arriving at their destination presented yet another problem, and this one couldn't be solved by Trevor's quick thinking. Alucard was blind and deaf. Julius' brain had been wiped of all driving skills from a spell thirty years ago. Yoko's hands were shredded beyond use. Trevor had no idea how cars worked and they were absolutely not letting a teenage girl get behind the wheel of the car. So how the hell were they supposed to drive themselves back to lick their wounds? After an awkward standstill where Yoko suggested maybe she could talk Julius though it just this one time, the Vampyre amongst them sighed heavily and snatched the keys from her mangled hands.
“For the love of...” He muttered, but caught himself. “Get in right now before I change my mind and leave you here.” With the command spat with such discontent, he slipped behind the wheel and busied himself adjusting all the settings to accommodate a Vampyre man as opposed to the tiny sorceress who had first driven them there.
Julius helped Trevor store their gear and peeled his own wet coat off, handing Yoko his spare he packed to slip into. This coat she was cool with taking, and did so with an appreciative noise. Cargo settled now, he directed the girl to climb into the middle seat in the back and slipped in after her, telling Yoko to sit in the front to give directions if needed. Trevor and bat-Alucard climbed in behind the driver's seat and waited patiently for Yoko to sigh heavily before slipping into the passenger side, wondering what else could go wrong this day. She didn't say it out loud, fearing it would manifest destiny. All settled in, they waited.
And waited.
Joachim was done fiddling with his seat and the mirrors, but he hadn't turned the key in the ignition yet.
“Do you actually know how to drive? What are you waiting for?” Yoko finally asked, exasperated.
“For you all to buckle up.” The Vampyre snapped back immediately. When he'd sufficiently badgered them all into complying with safety, the car was started and thus began the smoothest, safest, most perfect driving demo Yoko had ever witnessed. The car didn't even rock a little stopping at the signs, or yielding, or anything. Perfectly maintained following distances for their current cruising speed, always within the limit, and always courteously sharing the road. It was pretty fucking weird, but somehow... Also on brand. The obsessive adherence to the rules of the road. Joachim would give any psychologist a field day.
It occurred to her she was not giving any directions, that she had no idea where he was taking them, and that is was probably prudent to ask. “Where are we going, new buddy?” She hedged, trying to keep civil. There were a lot of emotions she was going to have to work through about the things she saw tonight perpetuated by both the Moroi in her current company.
“To the bald one.” Joachim answered tersely.
“To... Hammer? You know-”
“The bald one is the one I find most tolerable of you livestock.” Joachim cut her off. “Of course I know where the bald one stays now. I followed him home so I would know where to go if I needed him. It turns out that I now need him. My forethought will be appreciated, I hope.”
Okay that's also on brand and a lot to unpack. I am going to have to warn Hambone he's inherited my former stalker. Yoko sighed, but left it for later.
Folding down the visor against the morning sun, her eyes drifted to the mirror, and through its reflection, the silent bodies she could study in the backseat. The quiet withdrawn girl, no sign of fight or even life in her. A captive amongst what she probably thought were enemies, maybe wondering if they were taking her to her death or worse. The people she'd been taken from were murderers, after all. She had no reason to expect Yoko and crew were any different. The other pair she could watch was Trevor and his black mass of fur sprawled haphazardly on his lap, spread out for the casual, mindless petting that was taking place. Easy smiling Trevor, who'd been so assuring and disarming for the little witch looked grim and deeply troubled, unaware his distress was being observed by another party, most likely. If he'd known she was studying him he would have masked his raw emotions, she feels quite strongly.
Yoko wonders what Trevor Belmont thinks of the Lilû, now that he too has seen its true face. She knows he's had a recent run-in with a mirror and his own visage, on account of her showing him how much he looks like a Julius from three decades ago. She wonders too why the Witch seemed to think Trevor would just come right to her. Why the High Priestess was so certain he would join her willingly, she let him through her shield. Lilû let Trevor through its guard as well. It had to mean something, and by experience, that something was not good.
Jules was very correct. There was a lot that needed to be left for later.
For now, Yoko closed her eyes and enjoyed the white noise of the smoothest ride she'd ever partook.
Notes:
This Chapter would not end. It was a beast I fought tooth and nail. I'm not even sure it's dead yet.
Chapter 38: The Mask
Notes:
This chapter is completely raw (un-beta'd I think is the actual term) since it hit a little too close to home as a person with dysthymia. I could not give it even a single once over after writing, and I probably will not be reading it again now that's it's being posted. So I would like to warn anyone suffering from such depressive thoughts that those kinds of thoughts are in here.
Chapter Text
November 2037 ~ In a Van Down by the River
“Oh Babe, come here.”
Those were the very first words out of Hammer's mouth when a damp, dishevelled, ragtag group of humans, witches and demons knocked on the trailer door nestled amongst a semi-outdoor warehouse off the beaten path. Hammer's current home base of operations while he stayed on hand to a rich Dhampyre and his current clientele and girlfriend, consisted of crates and gear stored under three wall tarps, booby-trapped of course, rain barrels, a generator, complete with outdoor grill. It has been a serviceable pop-up shop for over a year now as a man like himself does not need many creature comforts, but appreciates the few he does have. What he does have, he has always been the type to share readily, so when his shivering, soaked girlfriend wrapped up in a demon's cloak falls into his arms with a long-suffering groan that seems to come from up from the pit of her stomach, Hammer pulls her in and steps aside to let Julius and this newest young addition on his heels inside his trailer where it is warm. The elder man's sigh of relief is all the thanks Hammer needs.
After a moments hesitation and a traded look with the creepy Vampyre, as if asking for permission from him, Napoleon follows after Julius and the girl with one hell of a beat-up looking Genya in bat-form hugged to his chest. Kind of like he's holding a teddybear or a security blanket. It's kinda cute at first glance, but he's pretty sure prim and proper Genya wouldn't allow himself to appear so unkempt and undignified without a good reason. Another once-over of the bat as Trevor ducks under his arm to step inside draws an involuntary grunt out of him. That truly is one mangy looking animal he's clinging onto, wearing such a lost, subdued expression. Nothing like the kid he's come to know these past few months.
Which leaves only the Vampyre now, who folds his arms like he's sliding on a bullet-proof vest and leans just off-side the door like some kind of demon bouncer, seemingly more than happy to play the role. The man is more than happy himself to leave it at that, but as he's ushering in poor shivering Yoko, he gives the less familiar demon the same once-over he gave the mangy bat and concludes much the same. That is one mangy looking Vampyre, exhaustion pulling his eyes and lips tight. There is a downward turn to his shoulders and Hammer's fairly sure he's not leaning out of boredom or to look cool and aloof, he's leaning strictly because he's too proud to just sit on the ground like he clearly wishes he could. So Hammer let's Señor Creepy know he's free to come inside if he wishes as well, remembering that old school vamps of the full-blooded kind needed such invitations and leaves Joachim to it.
Once inside again, it's a bit hard to adjust to the dim lights after an entire morning spent in the great outdoors, but it's not so large a space that sliding open the curtains can't help a great deal. Hammer takes stock of his gathered gang; Jules already divvying up the spare clothes they must have brought in from the car, and digging through the storage bins under the nearest bench for a spare set Yoko kept here as well, presumably for the mute little girl on the opposing bench, watching on with a blank expression. Hammer figures that eventually someone is going to tell him who she is and why they have a highschool girl with them now. The last time there was a highschooler tagging along, it was the reincarnation of Dracula. This girl does not exactly look like the reincarnation of Carmilla.
“I have my usual yoga clothes in the car still. In the backseat tucked into the little flappy thing. She can wear those, they'll fit her. She's soaked from the waist down and splattered with... well you know.” Yoko offers, already moving to go fetch them.
Hammer lifts a hand to stop her. “I'll go get them for you. Can you show her where the shower is, Yoko? You should all take one to take the chill out of your bones.”
He leaves them to sort themselves and their apparel out, giving his own little 'brr' as he steps back outside into the cool late November air. The yoga set are exactly where she said they'd be so he tucks them into a deep flak jacket pocket, turning around to find the Vampyre creeper exactly where he'd left him earlier. Hammer's not so great at Moroi physiology outside of knowing where aim his anti-demon artillery in order to do the most damage, so it's not like he's exactly equipped to diagnose a Desire demon's ailments. But just in the few minutes that have passed since he last took note of the Vampyre, it's blatantly obvious he's not doing well and fading fast. He looks very much like Genya had back in those classified war photos of 99. Joachim looks very much like he wishes he could lay down now, not just sit, as well. It's no big deal on Hammer's part to grab a camp chair from out under a tarp on his way back inside, along with his earlier discarded half-full thermos of coffee and drop them off by the trailer door for the weary demon, too tired at this point to even make a show for appearances.
“Don't be shy. I know you like my coffee.” He offers and leaves the creep to it. He's not sure, but he may have gotten a smile back. A tiny one.
Safely back inside the warm tight dwelling with all these bodies occupying it, Yoko's standing guard over the bathroom door with the girl's dirty damp clothes piled neatly on the fold-out table, still wrapped in Genya's cloak. She accepts the yoga spares with an appreciative noise, knocks lightly and slips the clothes in through the crack in the door speaking softly to the mysterious girl on the other side. “It's me, Yoko. I am just putting some clean clothes on the sink for you when you're done. They're mine if that makes a difference. Take as long as you need, okay?” Yoko shuts the door after and keeps to her post.
Hammer notes that Jules has changed into the dry set of spares he'd brought in, pulling the string of the track pants in tight to keep them up on his leaner frame. The old man's been losing some muscle density over the years, Hammer observes. “You really need to bulk up, bro.” He's teasing and they both know it, but for once that kind of comment seems to sting Jules a bit.
“I'm fifty-eight.” Jules scoffs with a head toss. He's not defensive, but he's almost there. A little more deflection in his tone and he would be. “This is it, bro. It's all down-hill from here. You'll see when you're my age.” Further shaking his head, the old hunter gave a single shoulder roll and fixed the slimmest in their ranks in his sights. “I'm not even sure you're going to properly fit the spare clothes I grabbed for you, Trevor. You're still young, man. Put some weight back on you before it's too late.” Jules tossed the clothes in question at the younger Belmont, who only stared at them and back at everyone in the confined space. He doesn't move other than that. “Change out of your wet clothes before you get hypothermia again, Trevor.”
The kid still doesn't move and instead blushes furiously. For the life of him, Hammer can't figure out why. He legitimately watched Jules Jr. strip it all off out in the woods to go spelunking commando down a giant screaming blob-monsters gullet, after all. He sat around nudey carving out a glowing thingamajiggy instead of washing monster spit off and getting dressed. Genya had to bathe him and Julius had to friggin' dress him that time. There was no blushing or shyness on display back then. But also...
“Yoko, you mind turning around for a sec?” Jules asks suddenly, sensing the source of Napoleon's discomfort.
To be polite everyone turns away until the telltale sounds of wet clothes being added to the table with a plop is heard, and Trevor is is just shrugging back into that snazzy blue leather motojacket. The ragged bat was now balled up against his thigh on the bench, eyes closed, the gentle rise and fall it's body tellingly giving away that it was still asleep. That worried Hammer. That Genya hasn't moved much and is out for the count. That he's still a mangy ball of fur. Genya was missing... And now found. But he didn't seem to be in very good shape at all.
“So...” Hammer begins, falling silent to leave the floor wide open for anyone to fill him in on what's going on. Someone's got to have an explanation ready to go, he figures.
The room however falls completely silent save for the muffled sounds of running water coming out of the bathroom shower. For a long enough while it seems like that is all Hammer's going to get out of the lot of them, as a tense awkward silence and traded looks pass amongst all parties. They all look uncomfortable and unsure. Hammer gives them as much space as he can in the cramped quarters by putting on another pot of coffee. Everyone likes coffee, right? If they don't, they don't belong in this trailer so Hammer goes about the task while waiting out their uncertainty. Eventually both Yoko and Julius start simultaneously, stop, try again but end up talking over one another, and then both start to laugh. The awkward tension breaks along with their little display of mirth.
“You know what, Yoko. You earned it. You take this one.” Jules handed the floor over to his protegé graciously. “If there are any gaps, I'll fill em in.”
Permission to take the lead granted, Yoko fills him in with great attention to detail, starting with the mysterious phone call via magick mirror to the Vampyre that's just beyond the door. Napoleon is kind enough to fish it out to show him, which seemed to be just a girly little pink prism mirror Hammer is almost certain he has seen in Genya's possession. The colour reminds him of a conch shell and nothing more, but then again Hammer doesn't have magick or Belmont demon slaying blood to be sensitive enough to pick up on these types of things. Yoko continued from there, promising to tell him later about some super interesting demon lore they talked about on the ride over, and skips to the part where they found themselves in the highly trap-lain woods. Hammer raises an eyebrow as she described working in tandem with her former Vampyre stalker all night to disable those heavy traps and alarms, as she's described being tied... tethered, is how she phrases it... to Joachim.
There is an aside she goes into, stressing how truly bizarre it was; being cognizant of a body, thoughts and emotions that were not her own while still being herself, sharing everything to the point that they even had to breath the same. Yoko also couldn't seem to help confessing how giddy and alive she felt with so much arcane energy at her beck and call. “If I am being honest, after I showed him how to break down the Coven's weaves, he kind of took the reigns for a bit and I think... He wanted to show me how to be more economical with my flows. At least, I think he was trying to show me how to use my energy more efficiently, and I did pick up quite a few hot tips whether that was his intention or not. So although I really didn't want to be in the murder-suicide forest to get out third musketeer back, I can't say it was all negative.”
Hammer grunted again involuntarily, watching Yoko overcompensate with her cheery charms. It was a self-soothing habit of hers when she was in an especially anxious mood or had far too much garbage to sort through in her mind. The worse she felt, the more pure cheery sunshine and rainbows she vomited out around her. Drowning others in positivity to keep her own head afloat of the negative. Studying his girlfriend's tells, Hammer settled on this particular overcompensation being a blend of both. There was a strained and almost haunted look to her eyes, like a cry for help. She was speaking about finding Genya now with Trevor in the dark, while her eyes were telling Hammer there was a shitload of details she was leaving out about how bad the scene was, and how dire the stakes were. It's confirmed Genya looks the way he does because he'd been tortured the entire time he's been MIA. Yoko says that he is blind and deaf now. The news was a hard blow to his gut, as it is to Julius, who seems to have not been aware of that new fact either.
With both men's eyes drawn towards the sleeping mangled bat, Napoleon seemed to grow self-conscious and plucked it right back up into his arms. The injured animal let out a mewling pained noise that reverberated off the walls of the small enclosed space, which was followed shortly by one out of Napoleon, if only hushed, breathy, and barely audible. It was only the stillness in the camper that allowed him to be heard, and Hammer believed that was the first sound he's heard out of Trevor Belmont since he ran off into the same woods with the Vampyre. Now that three pairs of eyes are on him, Napoleon grabbed a rolled camp blanket stored along the wall above the couch he's on and made for a quick exit of the camper with blanket and bat in tow. There was a flush to his face but Hammer would have been hard pressed to call it embarrassment. He remembered the note Trevor wrote for him to translate for Yoko and Julius. That Trevor had thought he could keep Genya there in the garden home if he had just been able to open his mouth and speak, The poor kid... Probably believes this is all his fault. Nobody follows him, unanimously all agreeing he just needs some space.
“So what then? Where's the girl come into this?” Hammer prompts after the interior has fallen silent for far too long a stretch of time.
“Trevor got through to Alucard and got him to change into a bat so he could be carried easier. We went looking for Julius and Joachim, but only found Joachim and the little girl in question.” Yoko explained, but Hammer can see she's being cagey here too. She didn't just find Joachim and the girl, there was something in the memory of what's she's relaying that deeply disturbs her. Her sunny smile is so saccharine and intense. “She is one of them. Joachim said Julius asked for a witness and singled her out, so that's the one he spared. So obviously we're going to get her to talk and hopefully figure out this whole goddamn nonsense.”
It's at this point she stopped to take a deep breath, and looks straight at Jules. Like she'll be telling him what she's about to share for the first time as well. Julius' eyes fly wide open as she describes running into the Witch they've been looking for, her two lieutenants, and the very same Shadow Monster Hammer had been looking for out in the woods with Jules. The same time they'd found the demons and Napoleon. The very same time an unknown creature out in the murky depths of trees had spooked the full blooded Vampyre. Yoko described the woman and her henchwomen in explicit detail, unashamed to admit that the High Priestess utilized a Force of Will and it was hard to fight through, and that she suspects that the Shadow Monster had something to do with that. She described the skill and power the women displayed, fending off both herself and Joachim, and admits with a grimace that whoever the High Priestess is, she seems to be a little on the selfless side, ensuring her cronies were safe and staying behind with her familiar.
There is another big inhale of breath and then Yoko steps away from the door to sit opposite of Julius. Hammer doesn't miss the wince she makes as she does, noting to ask her where she's hurt when she's done filling in her superior. She starts describing how the Shadow didn't run for once. How it stayed by it's master to protect her and did an infuriatingly good job of it as well. Yoko's picking her words carefully, Hammer notes, and that is odd for her. She's not prone to sugarcoat the truth, but she's not cruel about it either. She's always at least attempting to be civil and on the level, and Hammer has always liked that about her. She glances at the door for a moment, hesitating, and when she spoke next it's clear why she was watching the last place Trevor Belmont had occupied.
“The Witch was waiting for Trevor, Jules. It's why she didn't immediately turn tail once her sisters were safe. She seemed to think that he would come willingly when she beckoned him over, and when he did both she and the Shadow Monster let him through their defences.” Yoko's admission falls heavy in the deafening silence, broken only by the muted shower hum. “They didn't know he had Alucard with him when he crossed over, and instead of taking her hand he unleashed his cargo. Joachim and I couldn't break through her shield so we focused on the Shadow Trevor was now grappling with instead. The ink on it's body is not infinite, so we discovered, and we kept chipping and burning away more and more of the substance until it was almost entirely revealed to us. I'm not in any way sure how or why or what this means. But Jules, the Shadow Monster is for sure the Lilû Joachim referenced, he confirmed as much and...” Her face twisted but she drove on ahead regardless of the discomfort. “It looks just like Trevor, Julius. Almost exactly like him. Maybe that is why the High Priestess thought he would come with her willingly. Perhaps she believes he is another one like her current pet?”
Julius' expression settled into something unreadable as he mulled over her revelation. “It's too bad his notebook was drenched, because I sure do have a lot of questions for Grandpa about that Shadow Monster. About Lilû.”
“So do I... When we were just starting to get the upper hand it pushed the Witch through her liquid rock hole, kinda like it was sacrificing itself for her. It seemed like a Trevor Belmont move to me, combined with the fact that once we had it more or less against the wall and it was finally forced to attack, and it did look reluctantly ferocious. It had Trevor overpowered by then, and I think it was going to try and take him. Joachim saved the day.” Yoko sighed. “Again.” With a defeated, exhausted huff of a laugh. “I hate that I owe him so much for tonight. He freed Trevor and protected him from... something. Whatever Lilû does, it's blindingly bright and disorientating. When Joachim dropped so did I, since I was pretty much entirely propped up by his energy by this point. Lilû got away just like the Witch, and then the cave started filling with water. A parting gift from the High Priestess, I imagine. Which brings us to you, Jules. You were passed out by the cave entrance with those rakes across your torso. What happened?”
“Rakes?” Hammer quirked a brow only for Jules to lift his shirt and display the gouges running up his belly tapering off around the middle of his chest. Like something had tried to disembowel him, but the man had moved beyond the full reach. Hammer tsked and dug out his field medic kit, pushing the older man to lean back so he could assess and treat. “You have fresh open wounds and were soaking in filthy water. That's straight up the fast track to infection and sepsis and you're only telling me now? It's a good thing I got some fresh antibiotics on hand from my last order.”
“I am not exactly proud of the fact I got jumped.” Julius grit out, openly frustrated with himself. “I went in with the vamp. All we found were stragglers wrapping up the last of some ritual gear. Once we handled most of them and they started to scatter, I caught the sensation of the Shadow... Lilû. It was watching us so I chased it. Of course it ran, that's all we've seen it do up until your little story. I thought it was trying to make a break for the surface since that's where it was leading but...”
“It wasn't.” Yoko supplied.
Julius nodded grimly. “Lilû has a friend. I don't know what it is. I did not see it until it was almost too late. It is not... corporeal. But it seems to be able to take a swipe or two when it feeds off Lilû's energy. So I guess that's the nature of that relationship.”
“A swipe wouldn't have taken you down, Jules.” Yoko pressed, and the old Hunter shrugged.
“No, it wouldn't have. But it distracted me enough that Lilû could do whatever the bright flashy light show was. I do recall white light before I woke up coughing up a lake's worth of water from my ragged lungs.” Inspecting the wound dressing Hammer had just completed, bloodshot eyes caught his and Julius finished warmly. “Thank you, Hammer. You're always a ray of light in the darkness.”
“Can't let my boo die of infection.” Hammer replied with a soft chuckle. “Now you, Yoko...” He rounded, med kit in hand. “What are you hiding under that cloak? What did you do to yourself?”
As if a grown-ass woman couldn't look like a five year old caught red-handed with their hand in the cookie jar. She didn't even try to get around it, getting glared at by the two men in present company as she was. So she simply let the cloak slip free and revealed the blood caked all over the side of her shirt and down her pant leg. Hammer's eyes thinned as he waited for her to fess up. “I got a puncture wound.” She admitted with a defeated whine. “And I believe I broke a rib or two.”
“Oh Babe...” He started, stepping over to inspect. It looked angry, bruising, deep... and just not good. “Shit, Yoko. Get in the jeep, this is beyond field medic. You need a hospital.”
“Not yet.” She surprised them both with her refusal. “I was fine until now, and I will be okay for a little bit longer.”
“What part about filthy water and fresh gaping wounds being the perfect scenario for sepsis was unclear, Yoko?” He pushed back, trying to make her see reason.
“Soon, Hammer, I promise. Please.” She begged now. “I want to get professional medical treatment, I assure you. It's just that... We lost the Witch and the Shadow, and barely limped out of there with a blind and deaf Dhampyre as consolation. This girl... I need to know what she's got to say and what we're going to do about her now that we have her. She's a minor, and we've basically kidnapped her. Alucard kept saying that he fucked up royally, that we needed to leave, and that Trevor wasn't safe. If I leave before we talk to her to get help... I just don't want to be out of commission without knowing what I am coming back to.” With a deep breath that caused her to groan, no longer needing to hide the rough shape she was in, Yoko stood firm. “The girl seems to be more comfortable around me, I guess because I am a witch as well. She may talk to me, so I would like to try that before it's too late and we have to take her in to the Church. Please don't make me have broken my rib or two for nothing.”
“Or two.” Hammer grit his teeth but relented. Fine. Yoko was an adult woman and an amazingly capable one at that. He had no right to insist or demand anything from her, whether he agreed with her reasoning, conclusions, or life choices. That being said, he could encourage things along that were under his control, like reaching under the floor panel of the camper to find the water main and shutting the valve tight. Shower time was effectively over. “Let's see what the girl has to say then.” Yoko shot him a look briefly, but ultimately let it slide. Jules appeared to be watching her closely, but said nothing, eyes furrowed by deep thoughts.
Drinking coffee in silence, the trio listened to the muffled sounds of the girl drying off, dressing, and flushing the toilet. There was what sounded like nervous shuffling, and the door-nob jiggled hesitantly more than a few times as the girl gathered her courage to step back out into a room filled with strangers. Hammer felt mixed feelings about her. She was part of a coven that had brutalized his best customer and acquaintance. Her High Priestess had a hand in injuring both Jules and Yoko, and was supposedly the one that had kept Trevor Belmont in the sorry state they'd found him in. There was a lot to hate about the girl's circle of monsters. But she was a girl. Too young to blame for what she was caught up in. For all they knew, she was a followers child who had no choice or say in the matter. For all they knew, they had just killed the girls mother that night... And then kidnapped her. So when the door finally opened, he forced his scowl into a neutral expression and waited.
The girl was small and blonde, but no more remarkable than any other nubile thing on the cusp filling into adulthood. She looked like she needed food and a solid night's rest. Hammer found he did have pity for her after all, standing there waiting for whatever fate they would decide for her. Her lower lip quivered... She was afraid, but resigned. If they were going to kill her, she would probably let them. Yoko opened her mouth to start, but it was Julius who stood up and caught the attention of all present. He dug out his phone and placed it in the girl's hand, only letting go once he was sure her grip had it.
“If there is someone looking for you, someone you need to let know you are alive and safe, call them and do it now.” He instructed. “You can tell them everything or nothing. We are with the Church and you are in our custody. You are not going to be harmed, but we will be taking you in.”
“M-my Mother...” The girl whimpered softly. “She's in England...”
“The Church pays my phone bills. Call your mother.” Julius directed her towards the back section of the camper where a semi-privacy wall half shielded the bed. “You are in shock. When you're done on the phone, lay down and get some rest. We'll talk when you get up.”
As if in a daze, the girl walked through them clutching Jules' phone in both hands. She didn't stop to look at either Hammer or Yoko, but did as she was instructed. Her voice was too soft to hear when she made the call.
“Jules, seriously?” Yoko stammered in disbelief. “This is our shot.”
“She's a child, Yoko. A little kindness will go a long way.” He explained low and matter of fact. “I need to think some things over before I ask her anything, and you need to go to the hospital. You'll be happy to know that so long as it's a clean break they will treat the puncture wound but let you go. You'll be back here by tomorrow with some activity limitations only, I promise.” As if sensing her burgeoning refusal, he added quickly. “I will wait for you to return before we talk to her. I promise that too. You did phenomenal tonight, Yoko. Go get treated.”
“...Okay.” She finally agreed, and Hammer almost kissed Jules in gratitude. He settled for a hearty back-slap and shoulder squeeze before fetching his keys. The chuffed army vet helped Yoko gather her clean clothes and another blanket to keep her warm on the ride and left Jules to mind the fort. The man knew where everything was and knew he was welcomed to all of it.
Hammer nearly bumped into Yoko exiting the trailer as she had stopped dead not too far after leaving, staring thoughtfully at the little scene they'd intruded upon. Hammer followed her gaze to the now overfilled camp chair he'd dragged over for the Vampyre to rest in, empty coffee thermos abandoned carelessly on the ground alongside. Genya, still in bat form, was nestled right up against Trevor's chest, little winged bat paws stretched up almost as if he was trying to hug the tiny Belmont back. Jules Jr. on the other hand was half in the camp chair, the other half of him absolutely in the Vampyre's lap. No other way to describe that observation. The Creep had shifted over to accommodate the smaller man, his bat cargo, and the blanket draped around them all, hand curled comfortably around Trevor Belmont's sleeping form. His other was laid over the sleeping bat, stroking it almost mindlessly as the demon's lidded eyes gazed off-side. Joachim seemed lost in deep thought, head fallen to rest against the one on his shoulder. It didn't seem like he registered Yoko or Hammer's presence at all.
Until he did.
“You are finished already?” The Vampyre's timbre was kind of pleasant, Hammer noticed for the first time. Rich and smooth, pouring over you like melted chocolate drizzled over confectionery.
“She's in shock, so she's resting. We'll pick back up tomorrow. I am going to the hospital for the broken rib thing now.” Yoko shared easily, and Hammer couldn't help but notice there wasn't any of that usual nervousness about her when the Creep was around. Maybe that had something to do with whatever this being tethered business was. Figuring it must be hard to fear something you kind of embodied for a night, if by proxy, Hammer wrote it off for another day. “What are you going to do?”
Joachim considered her news and stood up smoothly, sweeping his sleeping collection of hot messes up into his arms. “I will see to Kitten then... The Rabbit as well, I suppose. I shall make it a point to take better care of my things in the future. Look what I'm left with when they are unsupervised.” It sounded and was phrased like a joke, but there was a sharp edge in there Hammer picked up on. The Vampyre was... miffed. At who, the man couldn't have guessed to save his life.
They watched the trunk of Genya's car open like magick and the back seats fold down to allow Trevor and the bat to slide in with their blanket, undisturbed by the jostling or the door slamming shut on them, or even when Joachim slipped into the drivers seat and slammed his. Frustration taken out on Genya's poor car doors, the vamp reversed in order to peel out of the clearing, but rolled down the window before he drove off completely to gesture to Yoko, getting her full attention.
“You were impressive this eve, Yoko Belnades. You are young and have much to learn, but what you do know is still noteworthy. I can see why Kitten keeps you around.” And with that out of nowhere compliment, the demon crew drove off.
“He has never called me by my name before.” Yoko muttered, unsure what it meant that he just did now. She let Hammer usher her along into the jeep, eager as he was to get her patched up, still muttering and concerned about other people's problems over her own. “Those two have been thick as thieves and just fucking weird ever since they spent that two week vacation in the woods, you know?” She asked like Hammer would have any idea. He'd not really been around since the broken Trevor returned and could not say. “Did you know Señor Creepy is demon-married to Alucard?” Asking again, like Hammer was in the loop.
“I did think they were fucking, yeah.” He commented, following the sporty car out of the narrow passage of his reclusive base of operations. “I mean, two ancient demons who've known each other for centuries? Figured it must be exhausting constantly chasing sexual partners through the years, so it must be convenient to keep another immortal fuck-buddy around for lazy Sundays.”
“That's the weird thing. They don't fuck, Hambone. But it seems like Joachim wants to fuck his demon-husband's boytoy, and the more I watch them interact, the more I think in spite of Trevor's journal telling us otherwise, I think Trevor wants to fuck his boyfriend's demon-husband too. And it's fucking weird, Hambone. Fucking. Weird.”
“Well to be fair, if I am recalling things correctly, that stuff in the journal about being uncomfortable with Joachim's uhh... attraction to him... But being open to using it to try and get to the bottom of a hex spell or whatever? That was before the two-week vacation in the woods. He could have changed his opinion after spending all that one on one time with the vamp.” Hammer reasoned, and he could see the little gears in her brain turning the matter over. “You know what, Yoko?” Hammer spoke suddenly, with the intent to break her from focusing on a group of grown men's open-marriage or whatever was going on there. “You can tell me all about this love triangle at the hospital. It will kill time while we're waiting.”
“Oh Hammer, you have no idea how convoluted Demon Hierarchy is, man. Let me tell you.”
“You will, at the hospital.” He said firmly. “What I want to know now is what's got you so haunted. You're trying to hide it, but whatever you saw on this latest adventure has you... Shifty. You're not you, Babe. So what's up?”
Without Julius, Alucard or any other Church superior around to judge her, he watched his sweet girlfriend crumple in real time, covering her face with both her hands to sob into for a long enough time that Hammer was startled when her cracked voice finally broke. She was still gathering herself as she tried to answer him to the best she was capable of.
“I know why these women are doing what they are, and why they are so desperate to use any means necessary. Their intentions are good, Hammer. They really are. Yet what they did to Alucard... He was maimed and mutilated by them. But what I saw him do to them in return... Hammer... He ate them. I saw him peel a woman open and eat her heart. He thought I was one of them and he tried to peel me open too. My friend did that.”
“Are you going to tell Julius what you saw? What Genya did to you?” Hammer asked lowly, only so he'd know what confidences he was keeping.
“No...” Yoko decided seemingly on the spot. “I... know why he did that too. They nearly killed him... Joachim said that he may not be able to recover as it stands right now... But Alucard still wants to live. He needed... a lot of blood to still live, being so far gone. It was just that blind and deaf, he thought I was her, the High Priestess. He thought Trevor was Lilû too.”
“Are you afraid of him, Babe? Of... Alucard?”
The question hung in the air of the jeep, Yoko searching inwards for her answer. “No.” The reply was soft. “I saw Dracula last night in him. That's part of who he is, and the ugliness of their actions brought it out of him. I... just think it's changed my path, seeing that. What I am doing with the Church is a band-aid solution. The problems we have are not a Good versus Evil, or how Alucard classifies it, Chaos versus Order. It's just people. People who can't or won't understand each other.”
“What are you saying, Babe?” Hammer asked plainly, hoping it would help her find her way.
“I am saying I would like to try another way to make a world where people like me will never feel desperate enough to think that pushing up against the Castle's last guardian is the only way they're going to be strong enough to live without fear. A world where Alucard won't feel threatened into becoming Dracula to stop them. Everybody deserves to live in peace and quiet.”
“Sounds pretty solid to me.” Hammer agreed. “It would be my upmost pleasure to walk beside you along the way.”
This brought Yoko's sunny disposition back, only he could tell this time it was genuine and not an overcompensation for her nastier feelings. “I am definitely going need to talk to a therapist about what I saw, though. And about the mobile murder corpse carousel.”
“I got a shrink I know...” Hammer started but then paused, registering what she'd said and whipped his head over to look straight at her. “Hold on a sec, the mobile murder what!?”
*****
November 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward
The room revealed when long eyelashes flutter open is brightly lit and a little on the warm side, ushering forth such a sensation of relief it nearly overwhelms his already delicate emotions. It's been months since the first instance Trevor can distinctly recall in an innumerable measure of time, that his eyes opened and did not find endless darkness and cold stone. Every day since then he's been terrified darkness will be there when he wakes. That he's still down there in the cave, cut to ribbons and bled out, lost in a gloomy haze of pain and confusion. Trevor's heart always seizing in his chest on the precipice of wakefulness with terror that he's simply been trapped in a long sweet dream, and Adrian isn't actually here. Will it ever feel real enough that the fear abates? His mind hasn't trusted the reality of his situation yet, and there is a duller more nuanced fear that perhaps it... never will. That he's been changed in such a way, he'll never truly feel safe again. After all, while he always parroted the tale of most hunters eventual fate, dead by the hands of the demons they tried to defeat, he had always secretly believed he was enough to keep the devils at bay... After vanquishing Dracula he no longer secretly believed it, it was proven. It was fact. History, even. And then, of course, he swiftly was proven wrong.
No, Trevor realized that day when Isaac plunged the dagger deep that he was fallible, and foolish. He was no better than any other overconfident young man thinking they were the exception. Every day since then had seen fit to hammer it home with impunity. That was... Until he woke up in Adrian's arms again. In a bright white room, just like the one he was in now. Hair a white silver in most lighting, yet in full daylight he could see the warmer hints of the same gold the Dhampyre's mother had worn so flatteringly in paintings of her in those same strands of hair. The secret gold in Adrian's hair playing off the amber in his eyes, making them seem almost gold as well. Trevor liked that he maybe had that secret to himself so much, he never asked if Adrian knew his hair had gold in it to confirm. Trevor Belmont was not a wealthy man in any regards, so it was forgivable to keep the gold he did have to himself, right?
Secret gold hidden in the white-silver, amber set in an angular face, placed upon a marble statue of a body. That was the first thing he could remember seeing after the long darkness. Those features were the most beautiful things his eyes had ever lain upon, and he still felt that way every single time he let his eyes rest on Adrian for too long. His appreciation seemed to go straight to the marble statue's pretty head with it's fluffy, silky, gorgeous hair, so he tried his best to keep his gaze always moving, lest he fall in and drown in the sensations, all while the Dhampyre's vanity swell so much he up and floated away. For that reason, and also selfishly because... Well... When he looked at something so beautiful and it smiled back at him so easily, Trevor felt his every flaw so keenly. Acknowledging Adrian's beauty made him feel plain and ugly.
Here he was, this average sized, average looking, plain, boring brunette, currently missing a good thirty or forty more pounds off his frame, with a scar bisecting the left side of his face. He had a lot of scars on his pelt now too. Lines upon lines down his forearms and across his inner thighs, redrawn nightly where blood had been stolen from him. Scratches here and there from werewolves and the like. The diamond near his heart where Isaac had almost done him in. That boring brown hair of his hung limp just passed his shoulders, dull and often oily. Other than the muscles on his chest and arms, he was not defined and sculpted like Adrian. The dips and valleys on the Dhampyre's stomach were just trace lines on his own body, and he did not have those attractive sharp angled lines that begged fingers to trace along down far past where a belt would cut them off. Yoko had made a comment about a picture in one of her colourful magazines once. A picture – a photo was the correct term, he corrected – of a man built similarly to Adrian but lacking much of what made him worth looking at. She had called those two lines the 'Adonis Belt' on the man in the photo as she complimented them. Trevor had blushed when he made the translation and then connection, but thankfully she had not seen. It was a good term for such a feature. It was a feature that belonged on Adrian... A living Adonis.
For some reason this angelic Adonis stepped out of the clouds and into the muck and mire with him, feeding him pleasantries and flattery. Complimenting everything he said or did to the point he was certain he could be celebrated for simply existing in place and taking up space. This painfully beautiful Adonis telling him how wonderful he was constantly, right down to things that were not even within his ability to control, like the supposed soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. Slower than it should be when he was at rest, so he'd been told numerous times. Often there were ugly flares in his temper over such constant, ceaseless, singing of his praises. Often he felt mocked in those moments. Such a pretty thing telling him all he things in a just world he knew he should be saying back at the source of the flattery. He tried not to get angry, it was another of his failings that he was even bothered by his plainness when compared to the lovely being that seemed so earnestly content to be in his company. But usually... eventually... he did. And he could see it baffled and every now and then even hurt that lovely earnest being. That hurt he never meant to do, as it was never warranted or deserved. Still, it happened often enough, and it shamed him that he couldn't just get over that shortcoming.
He wished sometimes that he could look at himself through Adrian's eyes and maybe see what all the fuss was about. See if it was mocking or genuine once and for all, and put his mind at ease. Honestly, he wouldn't mind to find out it was all in jest. That Adrian loved him, for whatever crazy reason he did, for who he was and the flattery was just an extension of that. Perhaps such comments were the only way the Dhampyre was comfortable expressing his affection. The unsettled feelings Trevor harboured stemmed from the fact that there were plenty of times that he wished Adrian was telling the truth. That there was something special about him, and that he was not broken or marred or unsightly. That he was worthy of standing next to a living sculpture. His cautious mind never let him fully believe, however. And from there stemmed the anguish and uncertainty.
Still, he would take every single awkward moment and self-doubt, every single instance of mockery if that is what it was, a thousands times over if it meant he kept waking up in the light. Adrian had dragged him back into the light. Now, just as it started to feel – not normal, no, he wasn't sure it would ever feel normal again and that terrifies him – but less like he's in a constant free-fall in this strange land and time, it's Adrian whose next pulled into the darkness. It's Adrian Trevor had to climb back down into the damp cold murk to drag back into the light. He is... not sure he did it with quite the same bravado. Or that he has done it in time. Joachim had said Adrian was dying... Trevor... Doesn't want to ask if that was hyperbole or not.
...That was a new word he'd learned just recently. There was always a little pleasure at being able to use a new word in a sentence so soon after learning it. It had come about so naturally too.
Sufficiently awakened by his wandering thoughts and guilty wordplay pleasure, he does take stock of the bright white room he is in. Adrian's study back in the little house with the garden and the old tree he's been using to climb, as target practice, and to read under. The pliant cushioning on his backside tells him he's been placed on the leather couch in Adrian's little everything-room. The last thing he remembers is climbing into Joachim's lap, seeking any comfort he could find in a strange place, in a strange circumstance, and with an uncertain future ahead. The irony is not lost on him; Trevor Belmont, slayer of Dracula and renowned Vampyre Hunter, seeking the familiar comfort of a Vampyre's touch because it is so similar to the Dhampyre he wanted to hold him and protect him in that moment. Adrian was clinging to him when he succumbed to the urge, and it seemed like the little bat gripping his shirt also eased into the Vampyre's touch. That made more sense, a demon seeking a demon. Trevor was the anomaly in that situation... And this one. Trevor found he was more often than not the anomalous one in any situation. Here he was just now, inexplicably patting down his chest with relief to find the injured bat still nuzzled up against him, and taking all those big emotions of relief and distress in the rush and impulse that just came over him.
Misguided judgment and instinct no doubt taking the reigns, Trevor skipped the part where you sit up to instead jump to his feet from the couch, stolen camp blanket from Hammer's little metal house falling to the floor. He found exactly what he was looking for, a Vampyre dressed in an attractively cut leather coat the colour of the night sky, leaning over Adrian's sarcophagus, now lined with some blue plastic, dumping crate after crate of black soil into the opening. Trevor carried his bat over to the Vampyre's side and waiting only for the first break in the process – Joachim casting aside a now empty wooden crate – Trevor seized the moment to step into his embrace. He felt like a right fool, as he should. He felt helpless and weak and just so... lost. He was afraid and he didn't quite know why, but he wanted to feel safe, and without Adrian he couldn't be. Or he thought he couldn't be... Until all he had one day that seems like a lifetime ago, was Joachim.
A Vampyre nursemaid, at first he had thought. Then a bodyguard, or some marriage between the two roles. He expected it to be an act, a predictable front for the Vampyre to take advantage of what the demon clearly desired. Trevor was put off by the notion of sharing himself with another man the way he is not put off by sharing himself with Adrian, in spite of... well... also having a cock. But he likely would have allowed it had the Vampyre fell upon him, eager as he was in that dark tempestuous moment to distract himself from the grief that was... manageable now. Most of the time. Instead of a predictable predator, the Vampyre Hunter had instead stumbled into an odd kinship with yet another noble Desire demon. When he was so afraid of losing anything else that he kept his voice inside, terrified it too would be taken from him if he opened his mouth to speak, the Vampyre's simple acceptance of his silence had been a godsend. When Trevor could no longer speak out of fear, Joachim had picked up the slack.
The Vampyre shared little stories from ages long dead, anecdotes and demon facts. First hand accounts of ancient history, as seen by an immortal, in quite the passive way Trevor imagined an endless being would observe the flash in the pan lives of humans and animals. The touch began gradually, before he'd locked up his voice, even. A brush of hair off his shoulder or out of his face, 'so I can see you properly' Joachim would always explain it away. Then lingering a little in innocent places, on his shoulders or hands. The small of his back occasionally, but never as lingered upon in that area as the others, as if he knew Trevor's tolerance for that was much lower. It seemed rather silly to be so polite about it considering the hunger on display the days leading up to these light touches. Joachim forcing him to play the torturous instrument with the bow, kneading his lower back without permission, which incited Trevor to insist he continue long after he was done playing his game out of sheer spite.
Eventually it happened, the skin on skin touch. Just a finger and thumb playfully curling under his chin to tip his head just so as Joachim shared the history behind the giant statues they were standing before. There was a warmth, heavy and soothing pulled over him like a thick blanket from that simple contact. Somehow in his delicate emotional state, he'd found the lifeline he hadn't known he was calling out for, understanding on a base level he couldn't put to words that he was safe. He would be comforted if he allowed it, but he would be safe no matter what. The sense of wonderment lead him to chase that hand when it pulled away, catching it with his own so that he could place the Vampyre's hand back on his face, a quiet but obvious request to keep the alabaster hand cupped to his cheek while he figured out this new world opened to him. Joachim gave him a small smile and there was a trickle of something comical. A foreign urge to laugh at a joke he did not hear the set up nor punchline for. There was also a sense of being deeply satisfied. That did not come from Trevor, he knew. Satisfaction was so often beyond his grasp, so it must have come from Joachim.
It was about then it dawned on him what these strange sensations were. They were the Vampyre. As Trevor worked over and pondered what was happening and what did it mean, he could feel the responding sensations almost in tune with his thoughts. When he was confident that he was feeling Joachim's emotion, the Vampyre's resonance felt pleased. That pleasure grew immensely when he stared into the Vampyre's silver eyes open-minded and all pretense dropped, as he tried to be as receptive to the foreign sensations to better understand and study it. For a while he forgot he was supposed to be grief-stricken, wrapped up in the feedback resonating between them. After a while Joachim smiled again, this one a little wider and more relaxed. He lead Trevor by the hand everywhere they travelled after that, his words and stories filled in and embellished with the emotions he had about them, all communicated by that connection.
Sometimes he simply talked, like they were holding a conversation in which Trevor was speaking or replying when it would have naturally fallen upon him under normal circumstance. The more often he did that, taking a stab in the dark at how Trevor felt or would respond if he was capable, the more often he seemed to be able to pluck the words straight out of Trevor's mouth. Which was perfectly fine... A great relief, in fact. Because Trevor would not let them go otherwise. He was keeping everything else in his power to keep, and that included those words and responses. After a while he thought he would be all right if it continued like that forever... With Joachim he could keep everything inside and the Vampyre would just safely observe them and leave it all right where he'd found them. Trevor didn't have to lose anything ever again. There was that idiom about 'all good things' however... And Trevor did begin to miss Adrian terribly. He hated that he got angry at him again, when it wasn't warranted or deserved. He hated how angry Adrian looked at him for insinuating that the Dhampyre must be pleased to have him all to himself. He hated himself most of all for saying such a foul thing. Adrian... would never hurt him. It just wasn't in him to do so.
When Adrian came looking for him the second time, he felt so ashamed and hideous and beneath the lovely angelic creature that stepped down from the clouds again into the muck and mire to fight by his side. He could scarcely look in the Dhampyre's direction for how unworthy he felt to be cared after by such a noble loyal soul. It was too much. He was so loathsome and a burden, he thought. For whatever reason, a person like Adrian was tied to him and no matter how awful he acted or reacted, no matter how many times he made the same mistakes, Adrian stayed by his side. The Dhampyre didn't deserve to be weighed down by someone like Trevor Belmont. He thought he could free them both if he just left. Adrian to find happiness with another who was as noble and loyal as he, and Trevor from the grief and endless self-doubt. He even waited for Adrian to have support when he did it. He'd made sure to say goodbye in the only way he could at the time, just so that Adrian wouldn't feel as bereft as he did coming to wait by that gnarled old tree week after week.
It... obviously didn't work. He was still here, still ugly and pathetic and dragging Adrian down with him now far below the muck and mire and just into the shit. He broke the Dhampyre when his intentions had been meant to set him free. Adrian's gentleness was gone the morning after Trevor failed to break their bonds, as was his reasoning. The Dhampyre was insistent Trevor's voice had been stolen from him – from them both, he specifically stated – when the only thing missing was Adrian's sound mind. And Trevor knew that if he could have just opened his mouth and let one single word out... Just risk losing one of the millions of words he was keeping inside, that Adrian would have come to his senses. But he was a coward, as always. He couldn't bear to lose anything else that was his alone. Losing any one thing that he could keep under his own feeble power indefinitely. Because of that crippling fear he instead lost Adrian.
The golden Adonis.
The easy smiles and endless affection, offered along with undying loyalty, all misplaced at the feet of a scamp and scoundrel named Trevor Christopher Belmont. Lost... So what else could he do but go down into the dank darkness that was where Trevor belonged and pull this golden being to freedom? He owed Adrian that much, for always coming to find him. He could find Adrian this one time... But then the thing he found in the depths was not exactly Adrian, and Trevor was afraid of that too. That Adrian was now changed by the darkness like Trevor has been. The feeling won't leave no matter how much he tries to will it away, that heavy uncertainty about seeing the ghost of Dracula in the face of his secret golden treasure. The feeling likely will not go away until he can look Adrian in those pretty amber eyes, not the scarred over milky ones that are there now... And see that Adrian is Adonis again.
He needs Joachim's help for that. He doesn't know how to fix Adrian. How to help him out in the best way to ensure he lives, hyperbole or not. Adrian doesn't need to just survive what happened to him... he needs to live and breath, Trevor is certain, and certain he's not equipped for the task of healing his Dhampyre. Not anymore. Maybe the Trevor that left that morning six hundred years ago could have, but this one? This one isn't good for anything anymore.
But... I am still here. He reminds himself with a flicker of his old fire. It used to be such a roaring flame in his gut that drove him. Mostly it's been ash and soot these days. I am still here and I can still follow directions. I can be a useful extra pair of hands if nothing else.
He is buried in Joachim's clothes so he can't get a read on the Vampyre nor the Vampyre on he, and Trevor is okay with that. He doesn't want to share how pathetic he is in this moment. He just wants to press up against Joachim's steady strength and pretend it's his own, and for a little bit feel safe and protected. It's stupid. He's being stupid. Joachim is trying to help Adrian get well and Trevor is in the way, stealing the attention and time that should be spent on Adrian for his own shortcomings. He takes a huge step back, out of range of Joachim's touch should he try and holds the wounded bat out like an offering, a silent plea for the one with the answers to tell him how to help.
“Not yet, I am still getting the moisture and temperature correct to optimize the conditions of his recovery.” Joachim tells him as if he is supposed to understand what any of that entails. There must be something truly pitiable about the way Trevor must be looking at the Vampyre for the great demon's concentration is pulled from his task to give Trevor a softened look.
Trevor hates it. That even when he's not trying to be in the way he still somehow manages to be. It's the story of his life, always trying to do what needs to be done, always for other people, and almost always coming up short. The only thing he ever did right was have his kids. And defeat Dracula... but then not really even that. Dracula's Castle remained. So even his 'greatest triumph' and the reason Yoko said he was a legend in history books was a flat out embellishment. He was a fraud. The only thing good about him was the blood in his veins that he thankfully had passed on to make better people than he would ever manage to become. It's why he'd wanted to free Adrian... To leave. What was there to him that was worth keeping around?
Why do I still also... want to be around? It's selfish to love him so much and keep him. I've stolen Adrian from another more worthwhile. I didn't deserve Sypha either. Not even Estée. All these wonderful people circled the drain with me. Why do I... Why can't I stop loving them?
“Would you do us a favour and get him to change back into his normal self?” Joachim requests softly, returning to his task at hand. There is a pitcher of water, an electrical device that is softly humming out heat, and the little red mercury stick that tells the temperature outside nearby.
Trevor gets distracted by the mercury stick for a moment, hung up on why it exists when opening a window will tell you how hot or cold it is outside, but he shakes himself free and turns the sleeping bat around to examine what he's been charged with. He... Has no idea how to get Adrian to change back. As a man he was able to write on the Dhampyre's hand to get him to understand his stroke of genius in the cave. How is he supposed to get a bat to change back into a man? The task feels impossible for a moment, and Trevor feels useless and all those other ugly things all over again. The bat's eyes are open at least now, but it's movements are lethargic and worrying. Trevor tried to write out MAN on it's belly, but the bat's fur probably makes it too hard to differentiate from the petting he's been giving it all morning. Feeling desperate when Joachim cracks open the next crate filled with soil, Trevor reaches in to grab a fistful and plops it on the desk. He puts the bat on the dirt face first, hoping it can smell the aroma of what he is assuming is familiar and comforting. That the scent of wherever Adrian has taken this earth from is enough to make him know he is out of danger... And it works.
Like the change from Dhampyre to bat, this reversion is not fluid at all, like Trevor knows and has seen it be. Adrian struggles and nearly fails multiple times, but he doesn't give up, and Trevor is so proud of him for sticking with it when he finally succeeds. Adonis returned, now only to be restored. In the white light of the study the damage is even more gruesome. The mottled scabs and burns on every inch of flesh behind the filth. The harsh deep blackened stripes, like the steaks Julius barbecued for them in summer. His amber eyes are milky, lips cracked and split and bleeding. The secret gold is filthy and almost black with grime. But Adrian is sitting on the desk now, alert to a passable degree, nose flaring as he takes in the scent of his home. It visibly relaxes him, and Trevor is so relieved to see Adrian is relieved.
“Home.” Adrian's ravaged voice affirms.
“Not quite. Not yet.” Joachim answers in a low growl, knowing the Dhampyre cannot hear him.
Trevor wonders what is behind that sudden show of anger, but he's too busy looking over the tragedy that has befallen the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on to give it more than that initial thought. Adrian is reaching out tentatively and Trevor knows that it is for him. He wants to know Trevor is all right as well. That Trevor is safe. Because it will help Adrian relax, his brow is furrowing with concern by the second already, Trevor steps close and lets Adrian pull him in. The smell in his hair is off-putting up close, like rotten fish and algae, but Trevor can stand it for as long as Adrian needs him to. His intention is to comfort Adrian, but he's a coward and pathetic and so many other terrible things, so when Adrian puts his weak arms around Trevor, the stupid Hunter collapses into the weak Dhampyre and leeches off his waning strength too. Adrian is the one holding him up after all he's been through and Trevor could just cry because that's all he's good for. But if he cried Adrian would know, and he would worry and want to help. Maybe Joachim would stop what he was doing and waste time on the wretch in their midst too. So Trevor bites his lower lip hard and the sharp pain is enough of a distraction to keep the tears at bay.
“I am going to need you to rinse him off.” Joachim informs him, adding more water to the black earth in the sarcophagus. “The nutrients in the soil will work better to heal him if they can penetrate his flesh, not the... Whatever it is he's rolled around in.”
Trevor nods and thinks twice about writing out BATH on Adrian's palm. What of he changes into a bat before Trevor can finish the last letter? He doesn't think Adrian can make the switch one more time, let alone two, so he's afraid to try. Instead he leads the Dhampyre by hand slowly to the washroom, steadying his steps as they go often, until he is in the shower fully clothed. There is no way Trevor is going to be able to clean him and hold him up, so he quickly dashes out to fetch a kitchen stool and gets back before Adrian's brow is too furrowed with sudden concern. Better prepared, he undresses the Dhampyre and turns on the water to a tepid temperature. He didn't need the red mercury stick to figure that one out either. It's not so hard to rinse and clean the Dhampyre's body as he first believes. He uses his hands because Adrian's skin looks raw and he thinks even the softest cloths they have would be too rough for the delicate damaged skin. The hair is another matter. Matted, foul, and vile. It's a hard won battle, but they succeed there too, without having to cut it off like Trevor first suspected he may have no choice but to. Adrian would forgive him, but Trevor feels like the affront to his vanity might be what kills the proud Dhampyre instead of the burns and torture.
As he's leaning in to shut the water off, Adrian reaches out again and pulls him into a kiss. It's weak, just like the rest of his body, but there is a passion in it that comes through regardless. The Dhampyre looks like a ghost of himself, but a smug one. A smug ghost.
“I see you, Trevor Belmont.” That ragged voice states with the kind of fire Trevor used to have burning in his gut.
The declaration stops him dead in his tracks, because he's wanted to hear that for years. He's hoped to hear Adrian tell him those words ever since he put on the Dhampyre's stupid gown for his stupid game, not knowing that he wasn't just asking Trevor to embarrass himself with lace and ribbon that night for a bit of fun. In truth, Trevor was never embarrassed to put on the gown, the silk, ribbons, or the lace. He was only ever embarrassed, scared even, to have what those clothes unleashed inside of him be seen. There was something about the dresses his wife had enlisted his help to model that made it easier to be who he really was, and he could always mask it as a game as he revelled in the moment the fabric he modelled was being worked and embellished. Trevor Belmont was the lord of the household, the heir to the Belmont Legacy and expected to rise up to the title and the honours. He'd studied and trained right up until he was married off for the other duty he was expected to carry; Passing on his bloodline. Then he was packed up and sent off to face the Devil in the flesh. If he died attempting the task then so be it, he'd already passed on his blood and left a replacement sacrifice.
The person Trevor had always been expected to be was hard as steel and fearless. Impossibly strong, never wavering, and set in his convictions. Cooley calculating, both vicious and ruthless in the face of devilspawn, an undeniable paragon of biblical virtues. A larger than life martyr if that's what it came to, so long as he made little martyrs to follow in his footsteps beforehand.
The person Trevor really was – the person the dresses always let him unleash under the pretense of a game and a laugh – was hardly resembling of any those things. The real Trevor Belmont was just like those expensive dresses and the delicate lace that lay beneath them. An acceptably pretty enough exterior that was thin and easily torn, losing stitching and embellishments when mishandled far too easily. The real Trevor Belmont was not steel but silk. Soft and wishing the hands he found himself in to treat him just as carefully as they would such an exquisite cloth. The real Trevor was not fearless, instead plagued with fears and uncertainty, nearly cowed by the weight of them always piling up. The real Trevor was not vicious or ruthless, instead wishing he could lay down all his weapons once and for all and at last be the one who was protected instead of the protector. He did have convictions though. That part was truth in fiction.
The Trevor Belmont freed by the dresses his wife put him in for a time here and there as she worked, was keenly aware it was precisely because society expected the Estée, Sypha and Lisa Țepeș' to remain soft and demure and outright damsels in distress just waiting for their hero, that he was in turn allowed to embody those things when he dressed how they were supposed to. Because society, he was keenly aware, did not expect a man to be those things. That was not permissible. But Trevor was those things, permissible or not.
When he allowed Adrian put him in those hand-picked garments the mask slipped like it always did. He was the soft demure damsel and here was this golden Adonis come to sweep him away. And he was swept. He'd been swept for a while, but only when the dress slipped on did the mask slip off and he could see himself and everything he desired clearly. He wanted Adrian to see too, so that he could know what he was getting into if they lived without martyrdom. That the Trevor he'd come to know on their journey was not exactly going to be the one that came home with him. Trevor had intended to cast off his steel and leather and slip into silk. Let Adrian lead they way, he'd follow anywhere. He'd done enough leading to last a lifetime.
But come morning it was clear Adrian... Hadn't seen him. Not the way Trevor wanted him too. And perhaps that was Trevor's fault, he'd thought. He had a hard enough time admitting to himself without the frilly frock as an aid. But now here they were... Adrian was late again.
But they were both here, changed in various ways from back when Trevor had first tried to be seen for who he really was. Adrian was saying he saw him now, after all that time had passed. Trevor had only ever wanted Adrian to see him. So he could know if Adrian would still like what he was seeing... So that Trevor would know it was okay to be the way he was.
But Adrian was late. Again.
Trevor Belmont... Wasn't even sure what this iteration of himself was like. He was no longer sure he could even be soft silk and forgiving or kind benevolence. He was so tarnished...
He didn't know what to say, which was just fine as he still couldn't bear to lose any of his words. They would be wasted on deaf ears anyway.
You see a ghost, Adrian. Trevor bit down on his lip to keep those awful tears at bay again. Maybe when your eyes heal you'll be able to look at me again and tell me what you really see. I am curious to know.
It is pointless to try and argue with Adrian fading fast, particularly while in the states they are currently in. One blind and deaf, the other a wilful mute. Together they make nearly a whole functional person. It's a shame they are both idiots. Trevor smiles at that. At least Adrian gets to be a a beautiful idiot. Trevor will take being an acceptable one as a consolation prize. Adrian lets him towel him off with soft patting motions, and he is careful never to rub the towel lest he inflame the burns. The hair he squeezes the water out of into the towel, afraid to pull or move the roots of the shafts too much, imagining Adrian's scalp is just as fired as the rest of his body. There is no point in dressing him if he's going into the earth to heal, so he just walks him back to the study when they are done and they together wait patiently for Joachim to be satisfied with his handiwork.
The Vampyre is quite pleased, and motions him to bring the Dhampyre closer. Adrian is obviously enthused and relieved when he feels Joachim's touch, and Trevor stands back to watch them. He knows from experience the back and forth resonance, assurances and promises made without words. Trevor is all over again immensely grateful that Joachim and Adrian have come together in the strange but clearly comforting way the demons have tangled themselves. Joachim, Trevor realizes with a touch of heartbreak... is probably the kind of person who Adrian should be with. All suspicions of being hexed by Walter Bernhard getting in the way put aside... Joachim is a whole person on his own. Brave. Powerful. Loyal. He doesn't need Adrian for anything but company, and he doesn't ask for anything more than that. Trevor needs far too much and can't even ask for a single thing properly.
He's also terribly stupid and selfish too, because as he watched the Vampyre lift the Dhampyre gingerly and settle him into the earth, covering him up in entirety with loving care, as much as Trevor knows he should walk away and leave them to it, he doesn't. Because for all his failed attempts at breaking their bonds and freeing Adrian to be with someone who deserves him, Trevor finds he can't anymore. He loves Adrian when he shouldn't. He needs Adrian badly. But Adrian is sleeping now. Healing. Adrian doesn't have the energy for Trevor Belmont's pathetic frailties. So he stays quiet, so easy to do in his current state, and watches Joachim settle the lid back on,thoughtfully reattaching the mechanisms so that if Adrian desires, it will open for him easily.
Adrian is... safe.
Trevor should be happy about that, and parts of him are. But now he's lost again. What is he going to do without the bat to take care of or the Dhampyre to take care of him? He feels like he is going to cry again, but the lip bite works it's magick for a third time. If he cries now there is only Joachim, and Joachim is exhausted and drained from giving Yoko unfettered access to his arcane reserves, the long fast journey to get here in the first place, being sapped by the Shadow Monster when he stepped in to save pathetic Trevor Belmont, and now the care and vigilance he'll have to maintain over Adrian. Joachim has better things to do than cater to his weakness.
He's still a wretch and a leech though, so when the Vampyre catches him by his sleeve to pull along, asking him if he is hungry, Trevor Belmont follows and nods. He sits at the table and watches the Vampyre make him food, after everything he's done for them already, and everything he's already committed to doing in the near future. The food is really good too, and Trevor feels guilty about that as well.
Maybe... It's time to put the mask back on, he thinks. But it doesn't fit right anymore and he can't keep it in place. It was a mask made for a different man than the one he is now.
So now he's not the Trevor that once was, or the Trevor with the mask.
He's... lost.
So lost, he reaches out for the nearest thing to hold onto in the storm. Joachim lets him, exhausted as he is, and stands there for hours while Trevor clings to him, too afraid to let go and find out he's lost something else he thought was his alone, and that no one could ever take from him. Even something he had always intended to cast away one day.
Who would have ever thought he'd miss the mask once he lost that as well?
Chapter 39: A Name in the Dark
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward
Useless thing that he is, Trevor hasn't been able to keep track of how many days it's been since he remembers waking up in the bright white study, after recalling he'd fallen asleep in the lap of an ancient Vampyre. It feels much longer than it should, but shorter than that at the same time, as they are in this meandering stasis, and the Hunter sometimes entertains the idea that he has entered another of Dracula's spells, like the one that enveloped him upon entering Lupu. Dangerous and cowardly thoughts plague his mind in quiet moments, and there have been a lot of quiet moments of late. Would it be so bad to keep waiting for Adrian indefinitely, he does wonder far too many times for even an unclear span of time that's passed. Waiting is a purpose, and it has always helped to have a small one kept in reserve, assured that he knows where to place his next footfall. Yet it's been an unknown but not small amount days filled with fretting, and he still does not know what he will do when Adrian wakes up, and that reality is what causes his hands to tremble when he tries to help Joachim with anything. The tremble so violent at times, the Vampyre keeps forcing him to sit still. To stop moving. To rest. All the things Trevor was never very good at even when he was the man he used to be. It turns out this version of himself had yet another failing to add to the growing list. Such a small request, staying out from under foot. He just couldn't do it. Pathetic, really.
Stillness brought uncertainty and confusion. Memories lost to the long darkness scratching at the recesses of his thoughts, fighting to claw their way to the surface. There was something about the woman who had hurt Adrian... Something he knew he felt about her, and the monster that resembled his own face. It's mocking visage so flawless and what he wished his could be, if only to not feel so drab and unworthy when next to his Dhampyre. There had been a longing comfort to the pretty demon his body responded with when their eyes had met over the battlefield. It was not afraid of him right up until he attacked it, of that he was certain, and parts of him felt the same. He had not feared it. But the woman... It wasn't fear either. It was visceral and emotional and... His scars ached when the memories tried to break free, and the trembling intensified.
Wrapping his arms tightly around himself seemed to stave it off, at least. Or at least hide it well enough that the Vampyre stopped checking in on him so often. Distracted from the trembling, the memories remained safely gated off. He balled himself up tightly on the chair with the wheels at the desk, spinning occasionally as a mild private amusement, and watched Joachim pack away Adrian's office into box after box. The demon seemed to know exactly where everything was and what went with what. He labelled the boxes with a fat smelly writing implement called a marker and sealed them up with a tacky strip called tape. Every night a nondescript vehicle he learned was called a van arrived to collect what Joahim had packed away by the evening. The other rooms in the dwelling were similarly being dismantled, strangers showing up at all hours to trade colourful paper money for crockery and small furniture. The little table at which they'd eaten so many dinners with Yoko and the others was long gone. The side table, bookcases, all followed. The space that had just begun to feel familiar and like a place he may be able to call home was changed into something hostile and unknown. However, because Trevor tried to distract himself by slowly reading over the case files about the War of 99 stored behind the desk on the bottom shelves, Joachim was purposely avoiding packing them away or anything in that vein, instead leaving them for Trevor to peruse. The files and the fancy little tea set that had formerly sat on the now missing low table. Trevor's poor reaction to Joachim picking that up to take a photo – the precursor to everything that vanished for paper money shortly after – changed the Vampyre's mind as well. Instead moving the set to the little office table that still remained thus far.
In all this commotion that occurred from sun-up to past sun-down, the Vampyre still ceased activity three times a day to make certain Trevor ate by cooking him something. Meals that were always mouth-wateringly delicious, and always seemed to be just a bit too large a portion, but Trevor found he could not refuse a single one, even when he had no desire to eat. The caring act causing spikes of guilt into his guts every time. Joachim was taking time away from his tasks to see to Trevor's needs, even though he hadn't done a single thing to deserve such care or thought. The shame and the fact that the selfish pathetic parts of him were so starved for the attention and affection, weighed heavy on the gratitude he'd held for just being considered thrice a day. After those minuscule considerations were made, the Vampyre always fell back into task. Box after box of the familiar being taken away, leaving Trevor with a frightening void.
Why was he doing all of this? Because the demons were leaving, Joachim insisted, not so long after Adrian awoke. The decision had been repeated more than a few times now, but the Vampyre never specifically said Trevor would be leaving with them, and that lack of specificity coupled with Trevor's inability to draw on the courage to ask for confirmation, left him even more lost that before. A reed on the wind with no plan and no place to plant his next foot. Yet, if the demons truly were going home, where they lived together once Adrian awoke, didn't that settle the matter of his dilemma entirely? His own selfishness and inability to do the right thing – to remove himself as one of Adrian's troubles – had no bearing on the decision that had been made, after all. Trevor didn't have to seek some way to force himself to leave if he'd be left. Wouldn't that... be for the best? Objectively... yes. He thought, staring at the ornate sarcophagus forlornly. I love him too much... Even if I only seem to offer pain and suffering, I want him too much to be the nobler man. I am a wretch.
The frequent spiral of such thoughts he kept finding himself in were interrupted by strange popping sounds from the kitchen and a warm, alluring, oily smell. Joachim drifted in and out of the study whilst the popping continued, pulling Adrian's... Well, the thing he used that was like a larger version of the phone everyone seemed to carry around... Joachim pulled that out of a drawer and propped it up on the table next to the tea set, which now had a fresh brew of milk tea in it. Delicate porcelain filled with the warm milky concoction was pushed into Trevor's hands with a quip about having a proper 'cuppa'. Joachim didn't like herbal or medicinal tea. He called it 'leaf sweat', and wrinkled his nose whenever he saw Trevor drink it, which made no sense as all tea was technically leaf sweat, no matter what accoutrements you added to it. The third time he graced the office with his presence, it was to place a large bowl on the table as well. It was the only such bowl left in the home, which Joachim had spared from the photographic vanishing act, specifically, to make more crempogs when Adrian woke up. Adrian liked sweet treats, after all, and he deserved some after his ordeal. Trevor found that consideration... sweet of the Vampyre.
“Come along now.” The Vampyre beckoned when all Trevor did was stare at him and the arrangements made before the leather couch. He rolled his silver eyes at Trevor's hesitancy and confusion, and actually stepped over to the desk to pull him from the wheeled chair. Even going so far as to peel Adrian's coat off of him and hang it back over that very same seat where the Dhampyre had last placed it. “The sentimentality you've instilled upon a suit jacket Kitten was too lazy to hang up properly is growing unhealthy. I'll not hear excuses either, as I've ensured the temperature in this office is optimal for Kitten's recovery, so you can't be cold. But if for some honest reason you are, you can always cuddle up to me. I will allow it.” Liquid voice purred and teased, but Trevor could feel there was truth in the statement as well. “Perhaps even for a dishonest reason.” Silver tone added with a flash of crimson in the twinkling mirthful eyes studying him.
The clear fact that Joachim was hoping Trevor would cuddle up next to him gave the Hunter another double-edged stab of guilty pleasure and utter bewilderment at why he kept making the choices he did of late. Why his body kept responding in ways that were betraying his morals. Trevor loved Adrian to the point of pain, to the point where he wanted to stay with him even when he knew doing so wasn't good for the Dhampyre. Adrian needed someone like the Vampyre and Trevor knew he could find it within himself to even stand back and wish them well if it played out that way. Trevor Belmont brought nothing but misery around with him and was not worth anyone's time or effort... So why did he keep yearning to climb into the arms of either one of these demons, when he knew they should be holding one another instead? Why did he respond so positively to Joachim's affection when he was so in love with 'Kitten'? Was it because Joachim was the better one for Adrian and his attention on Trevor kept it from where it truly belonged? Was his growing ease with the Vampyre just a convoluted ploy to keep the Dhampyre all to himself? Am I... Really so petty and jealous as well? Trevor wasn't so sure of the answer to that. It did not feel like that was exactly the reason why he wanted to take Joachim up on his offer so readily. Yet... I slept with Adrian when I believed Sypha was still alive and waiting for me with our two new babes... He reminded himself sharply. I made the choice to betray her for my own selfishness and desires. I just needed Adrian to touch me so badly, like an affliction. I wanted him, because I always want him. I am...I guess I am that petty, possessive, and easy.
“You will cease thinking for ninety-six minutes, Petite Lapin.” Joachim commanded, oddly precise about the time-frame. Or was it really that odd? Joachim did seem to value accuracy quite highly. Because he had so little in ways to repay all the kindness he'd been shown, Trevor let himself be meekly led by hand to the couch without further fuss. Once the Vampyre played with the larger phone-looking device and settled in, Trevor also let himself be pulled down between splayed legs with his back resting against the taller demon's frame. It was a warm place to be, surrounded by the larger body. Safe, even. A ghostly tendril plucked the bowl from the table and brought it to rest in Trevor's hands. Inside there was a fluffy looking type of food in it that smelled enticingly buttery. “Kitten is not so interested in television or movies, so it has occurred to me that you've been denied one of the modern ages great pleasures.” Came the sultry purr of an explanation just as a strong arm was curling around to nestle him in comfortably flush and relaxed against the warm presence behind. The other hand dipped into the bowl to pluck the fluffy snack out. It crunched softly in the mouth Trevor noticed was right by his ear. “We are going to watch a movie, Little One. This is popcorn. Movies and popcorn are a more recent time-honoured tradition I am pleased to be able to share with you. I wasn't quite sure what to pick for you first movie, as I believe you would be into some classic horror and science fiction. But given the excitement of recent days, I have decided something gentler would be preferred. So, I present to you La Belle et la Bête, filmed in 1946 if you care to know that fact. In France, because... You're French, of course.”
Unsure what to expect, what began was another moving picture, like the one he had seen long ago back in the hospital on the same rectangle he was looking at. Adrian had been showing him the map when a moving picture popped up showing a room full of dreary looking men speaking in beaten down voices. Trevor had thought at the time that the sad men were prisoners in the device. They had looked and sounded so miserable, after all. What was currently on display upon the glowing rectangle was far more theatrical, more reminiscent of the handful of stage plays he had seen in France. Although he would later decide the pageantry and style of dress was far more familiar and opulent than the regimented black suits on display back in the hospital.
The images were confusing. A man writing names on a board that was erased easily and replaced with more names. Then the music swelled, a steady drumbeat starting up, the sounds and intensity far too closely mimicking the the tremors in his own body he was still trying to keep under wraps, it set his teeth on edge until it finally, blissfully, ceased. Joachim, having picked up on his anxious reaction, promised him that that would be the last of the obnoxious rattling just as the hand curled around him caressed soothingly a few times before it settled again. The popcorn was indeed a warm crunchy treat he found enjoyable as he watched a pair of shrews harass their poor staff and the third sister. They reminded him quite suddenly of his elderly aunt, in the manner in which they expected the world to cater to them and their whims, and Trevor felt for the sister stuck in the servant role. He too had been that everything-everyman as well as a handmaid back in his aunt's estate right up until he had left for Wallachia. He wondered for the first time in years how she was getting by. Probably wasting the dowry she'd received for Trevor's arranged marriage on proper maids who obeyed with less lip than he was quick to add to his services. Then he remembered it was the year 2037, and his elderly aunt was long dead. Maybe once upon a time that would have made him smile with relief... He felt nothing as it stood now.
Movies, it turned out, were exactly like a mix between a novel and a play, only the stages and settings so varied and elaborately realistic. A far cry from the painted wooden trees and bushes that swivelled to become tables and chairs in another scene quite like he was used to. As wondrous as the scenes and set decorations were, truly it was the costumes that drew his eye more than the moody atmosphere. What must it have felt like to be wrapped in such finery, bejewelled cloak clip and hair ornaments? His hands twitched, wishing he could run them along the fabric of the Beauty's dress enviously. In spite of his fascination with the spoiled sisters and kind Beauty's garments, by the point the titular Beauty was having her first dinner attended by the Beast, Trevor found he had set aside the crunchy snack and his envy in order to pull his knees up to his chest, drawn to the exchange between the two characters. How the Beast was so earnest, offering everything it could to the Beauty whilst knowing that it's visage was both monstrous and repulsive to her. That the Beast's romantic affection returned only disgust time and time again. How the Beauty knew that his actions, gifts, offers and kindness were all an effort to distract her from those facts. The Beast claimed to have a good heart although he was a monster, and the Beauty could see there were men far more monstrous than he out in the world, hiding behind handsome human faces.
The back and forth between Beauty and Beast did bring to mind those early days on the road back in 1476, sitting fireside with Adrian in private discussion after Yomi, and in particular, after Fetra. An earnest demon offering him anything and everything it could, if only he could see fit to love it. Yet like the Beast, Adrian was far too generously kind too soon, and Trevor, like the Beauty, did not seem to have done a thing worth being granted such an offer. Trevor wasn't even the literal beauty out of the the pair of them in his sordid tale. But in reality, Trevor found elements of both Adrian and himself in both Beauty and the Beast, but he really could not say which one of them was in fact more beastly. After all, the point of the story – he believed if following along correctly – was that being a literal beast and a monster did not make one monstrous. The actions and intentions of the lazy spoiled sisters and the hunter duo were what was ugly and repulsive. Adrian was a noble and kind beast... It was Trevor who was ugly, sinking back into another demon's embrace for comfort when he knew he shouldn't, betraying the everlasting love they had confessed for one another for the momentary sense of security and the pleasure of still being desired as he was right now. A broken, pathetic wretch. Trevor Belmont was the selfish monster here.
As if to prove it, Joachim leaned forward as well to meet his sinking frame, resting a chin on his shoulder to better envelop his smaller body, having no doubt picked up upon his torrent of unsteady and negative emotions. Joachim held him in an effort to comfort him, and what did Trevor Belmont do in response, knowing better? Relaxed into the touch, that was what. Such a stupid base desire for a stupid basic creature, and he just couldn't say no to the offer when it was given this time. The mask was gone.
Affection and attention... Another stronger than he to care for and protect him. The whole of what he had always desired but ever been afraid to ask for – knowing deep inside that once he dropped his mask he'd be stuck this way forever living as his weak, fragile self – now being freely offered. Don't worry. Be still. It will be taken care of, all these troubles on your behalf. You will be taken care of. Relax and trust in me. Those were the promises relayed in such soft but powerful touches. Promises Trevor had been waiting all his life to hear, never fully believing he would ever find someone willing to make such assurances to him. Of course he couldn't say no to that, he reasoned. But you should. Another part of him, a more moral and reasonable part, argued. You should absolutely have waited for Adrian if you are so insistent upon clinging to this great love you shouldn't have for him, for as long as you are able to cling to him before he wises up and leaves you like he should. Another harsh shake of his head later without the mask to stifle, a third normally submissive voice fired up to scold. You were told to stop thinking for ninety-six minutes. It is only the fourth thing you have been asked to do this entire time by the man who is caring after Adrian and yourself. Can you not do just this one simple thing for him properly? Can you not give Joachim just a single ninety-six minute span of time where he does not need to be concerned with you on top of everything else? Just shut up and be a good pet rabbit, already!
With effort, he found he was able to lose himself in the narrative of the moving picture again, right up until the cruel pretty-faced hunter sought to climb into the place where the Beast kept his greatest treasure and where, furious, the Goddess of the Hunt shot him dead with an arrow. The monstrous hunter took the form of the Beast, for his heart and intentions were cruel and ugly, and the noble-hearted beast was in kind gifted the hunter's outwardly beautiful face. It was a face that Beauty could fall in love with, and she did. Her body language and expression changing the moment he was as comely as she. Trevor turned sharply towards Joachim and tried to see if he'd understood what just happened. It couldn't possibly have ended like that, could it have? What of the moral? That strong character and kind actions outweighed outwardly presentations such as conventional attractiveness? That a good person with a plain or even unsightly face could shatter monstrosities hiding behind shallow beauty? How did the moral stay honest if the Beast just got to look like a pretty man in the end?
Joachim laughed at him in return, making note of the face he was making. “You don't approve of the last act, I see.” The Vampyre mused, sliding the arm around him down in order to take his hand. “Hmm... I wonder what ever it could be that you disprove of.”
In response to this, Trevor simply used his free hand to point at the handsome man taking Beauty up into the sky, towards his castle or wherever - he was not quite sure having been pulled out of the narrative by this point. To emphasize, Trevor even made a gesture at his own face before throwing up the hand.
“Oh, I see. You think our dear Bête should have kept his ferocious visage do you?” When Trevor nodded, Joachim chuckled again. “You think that our Belle should have loved the Bête as he was, for he was quite noble a demon after all. Do you not believe our monster deserved to be blessed with a face and body as beautiful as the soul he carried within?” Trevor only narrowed his gaze, and this too amused the Vampyre. “You know what, Little One? I think I like your version better. Why should our kind Bête be required to change himself just in order to deserve Belle's love? Acts of service speak the loudest, I say.”
Leaving Trevor with that comment to mull over, it striking him in a sudden sombre way, Joachim reached out to turn off the noisy rectangle before it bounced to another moving picture. In the dim light of a solitary lamp and the growing silence, the Vampyre simply cradled and studied him simultaneously. It was a gentle gaze that Trevor found both easy to meet and hold, his mind – at least for a brief moment – mercifully calmed. Vaguely he was aware of the dark spiralling thoughts at the corner of his eyes, just waiting for the spell to break and to pull him back down into misery. But for now he was safe from them and the darker more nebulous memories trying to break free. No thoughts of witches or demons that wore his face. His head found a shoulder to rest upon while he kept those silver irises in focus, thinking in a dreamlike fashion that if he did close his eyes, it would be so very easy to pretend it was Adrian he lay against. Adrian whose arms he was in, feeling promises in every touch. The shape around him was similar enough to what he wished it to be, but he would have to run his hands up that torso beneath that black shirt and pretty metal harness to be certain. The numerous layers of clothing obfuscated much of the demon's true shape. That passing dreamy fixation heated his features, and though he was sure Joachim knew, and knew the source of such a reaction – they were holding hands after all – the Vampyre did not acknowledge it. Trevor was grateful for that too. He wasn't sure what would have happened if attention had been called to it.
“I am glad you enjoyed your first film, the ending aside.” Joachim observed instead with benevolence. “There are really so many more wondrous things out in the wider world that have been invented since you last freely walked it, and that I would love to show you, Belle Lapin.” Liquid voice causing a flutter in his gut with that comment, the Vampyre's eyebrow quirked slightly. “You are both surprised and delighted by the offer, I see. It would be my great pleasure to show you all that you otherwise would be missing out on, you must know by now? Like our Bête told his Belle, you need only make your slightest whim known. I will even refrain from ending our evening with a marriage proposal.”
Secure from the evils out in that wide world while he lay against the beguiling demon, a slow smile began to pull at his lips, spreading until it touched his eyes and then his soul. In the calm allotted to him at that moment, immune from the ugliness within and the danger beyond the four walls of the garden dwelling, he found the desire to play return briefly, and teased. His response to Joachim's seductive offer was a firm pointed finger at Adrian's ornate sarcophagus, fine filigree and carved details catching in the lamplight mesmerizingly. It drew out a deeply rich laugh from the demon before him, lacking any sign of insult or offence. If anything, the affection in that silver gaze only intensified.
“Of course I meant other than him, Belle Lapin. That one is still a work in progress. He needs much more time to marinate, but I do promise it will make him quite mouthwateringly tender. His meat will fall right off the bone and onto your tongue, you'll see.” He was promised so easily, with a hungry twinkle in silver eyes before the emotional feedback between them changed the Vampyre's disposition to something more on the serious side. “You have finally relaxed and I find you to be somewhat... Hopeful. If nervous about feeling so. Such strange sensations that I keep picking up off of you tonight. Consistently swinging back and forth between longing and anguish. Tell me, Little One, are you not exhausted from such churning emotions?”
Utterly exhausted. Bone weary. His mind supplied easily. But they were sensations he was currently on reprieve from as he kept the silver gaze in focus. It was his other favourite colour alongside gold.
“I was having a hard time trying to decipher what it was that you have been so morose about, aside from Kitten's plight, as it clearly was something more than that. Something different and inwardly based.” Pretty silver seeing right through him, a small curl touched the corners of bloodless lips. “I believe I have figured it out now, Belle Lapin. For some reason you seem to have feared that I will not be around to make you such offers in the future.” The Vampyre guessed correctly, as he uncannily had been doing for weeks now, starting since they spent that two week period secluded together in the forest on their little bonding adventure. “Pretty Rabbit, please tell me you were not thinking that my intentions were to snatch back Adrian from you once he's recovered and abandon you alone on a island country?” After a beat and Trevor's once more reddening features, Joachim seemed torn between both laughter and aggravation. “Maybe you are just as terrible at listening to me as our Kitten. It's no wonder you've made a fine pair. You really believed I would throw one of my things away so carelessly? Yes, Little One. My things. I can't see how I could have stressed that fact enough. You are his and he is mine. You are mine, Trevor.”
So I am... going with them after all. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. Relieved to know where he stood but still faced with the dilemma at hand. Trevor didn't think for a second that he deserved to be included along with these noble and beautiful demons. But he wanted to be... Terribly so. It was a plan. A certain spot to place his next footfall. Even if it was such a painfully pleasurable position to be in for a little while longer, at least it was a certain next step. He wished in that very moment that he could speak to Adrian so earnestly, he'd even give the Dhampyre some of his coveted spoken words to do so. There was so much he wanted and needed to say to Adrian about the witch and the monster that wore his face. So much more he needed to say about himself, to lay it all out and end the torment between them. To let Adrian look at him as he was without his mask, naked and small and fragile and tell Trevor what he saw with his own two amber eyes. See him for what he was and then tell Trevor if he was worth all the anguish after all, or if this whole affair had been a huge waste of both of their times and energy. Joachim had not asked him a single question about the witch, the shadow, or anything else from that night in the cave, and Trevor was grateful for that too. He needed to speak to Adrian first. Not Yoko. Not Julius. Just Adrian. There are bigger issues than the asinine pitiful doubts and guilt of one Trevor Belmont. If I can even just tell him what I think I remember about her... Just that. Just... Let me do one right thing, please.
Now that he was thinking about it, the Vampyre did not seem to have any concerns about the witch and the creature he called Lilû, or rather he did not outwardly show any concerns. But he must. Was that not why he was still here, overseeing Adrian's recovery when all there was to see was a still box? Was Joachim not standing sentinel over Adrian and himself? Or even, was it as Julius had speculated, and by sticking with them they were a united force offering protection to all parties? Trevor did not feel any hints or notes of concern or worry through their touches though, but the thought that Joachim may be afraid of the thing in the woods that attacked Julius gave Trevor a renewed hollowing sense of fright as well. That even now in this place that he almost for a time thought of as home, someone or something could come for them. Adrian had the risk at the forefront of every consideration, always keeping Trevor within a room or two's distance, passing of custody of his person when required amongst the other two hunters he worked with. Between Trevor's grandchildren. People Trevor should be protecting, not the other way around. A man's duty was to protect his children. His children's children.
That thought too was another of those dark tailspins he kept being pulled into. Trevor had living kin and they were harmed grievously because of him. His familial duty was to spare them from hardship and horrors, but he only seemed to bring those very things upon their front door like a cruel joke. They suffered because of him, injured and exhausted, interrogating some witch girl in Hammer's metal house while Trevor was cowering in a demon's arms seeking the same sense of security he should instead be offering and providing for them. The whole spiral of guilt and self-loathing begun all over again, as it had just been waiting for the invitation back to the party, emotions raggedly raw and overwhelming. His bruised lip suffered yet another bite to stave off the tears he was not allowed to shed. It was all over if he cried. It was the only thing he was good for, and he could not give in. Not until he spoke to Adrian. Please, just let him make it that far.
Because Trevor was pitifully weak and it was the next natural step in the agonized whirlpool he was trapped in, he let the demon under him pull him closer still, fully laying against the other man when the one he belonged to, the one he longed and ached for, was incapacitated just steps away from where he was betraying their love and bond. He just... wanted it all to stop. If he didn't feel so powerless and small and needy then he wouldn't keep doing the things that made him feel so awful and guilty. His breath was quickening and sight blurring. He tasted blood, teeth sawing into the overly tender flesh of his lower lip in vain. He couldn't though... Please don't make him fail here. He just needed it to stop. Just for a little bit. Just to gather the strength to wait out Adrian's recovery. Please.
Like a beacon in the blackness of night, Joachim's smooth low voice sliced through, giving him something to latch onto. To focus on. To keep it all together just a moment longer. The distraction was a saving grace, and Trevor let the Vampyre know by way of burying into him further.
“You are exhausting even me, Little One, with these mood-swings of yours.” The Vampyre admonished, and yes, his tone did sound for the moment as tired as it should after everything he'd been through saving Adrian and now caring for them both.
Wonderful. Trevor's shoulder's shook with a silent bitter laugh. Even my stand-in for Adrian has had the life sucked out of him from dealing with me. I am a parasite. A leech.
“I say this with all due respect, Belle Lapin; I believe I have met my match in you. I have not foggiest idea what it is that you need me to provide to settle these nerves of yours. You are safe while I am here, as is our Kitten. You are both well fed and immaculately clean. The foolish other Moroi in this dwelling is recovering well enough, as I can feel his strength growing far more rapidly than I originally anticipated. He will be well deserving of some compliments on his improved power when he wakes, and I assure you he will get them. Of course it is unfortunate that we cannot do much about boredom seeing as we are trapped here until our Kitty is well enough to stretch his claws, but a little boredom never hurt anyone. Yet there is still this yearning need within you that I do not wish to be too presumptuous to assume the root cause of... But seeing as we are running out of other possible reasons to explain your unabating, anxious, longing energy...”
Joachim's pondering trailing off, Trevor sat up and extricated himself from the Vampyre's embrace for no other reason than he just couldn't bear to drag yet another better person than he was down into that muck and mire that he deservedly wallowed in. Instead he pulled himself to his unsteady feet and found his way to Adrian's resting place. His hands rested on the polished wood for a time before tracing the designs, a futile attempt to distract from the ruthless chewing of his bloodied lip to stop himself from reaching that last plateau. He wasn't allowed to cry. He did not deserve the sympathy that would follow if he did, and he wasn't going to be able to come back from it when he did. Adrian was just below the wood he traced, in the earth sleeping peacefully, he hoped. Adrian... Who he wanted and needed. To speak to him. To listen to him. Even just to look at him. Trevor had spent so much time going through Adrian's things of late. His case files. Reports. The sketches and portraitures in the moments before he tried in vain to sleep, fitfully plagued by night terrors. Of all the pretty talent on display, and faces of long lost loved ones, there was only one sketch of Adrian amongst them. The one done by another in the village that Adrian, Sypha and Trevor's two daughters had found refuge in. The sketch that had Sypha lovingly clung to Adrian's arm, and his expression just as relaxed in her grasp.
Trevor looked at that one every morning, and again first thing when he awoke in the evenings. Thinking about the possibilities that were no longer open. The strange but wonderful family they would have all made together once he collected his sons. How easy he found he could accept Adrian loving Sypha as well, if they would both have him and keep him too. Sypha had been fierce but kind. She proved her care not with words but in actions both small and large. Mostly they were the minuscule things so many others would take for granted, things expected of a wife to do for her husband. But Sypha was never his wife, she had been his partner through thick and thin, just as Adrian had been. He missed her laying out his boots and gloves when she knew he needed an early start the next day. He missed how she'd slip medicine into his bag when he was feeling under the weather but refused to admit it to her face and ask for some. He missed that she always saved him the corner piece of her cakes. He liked the crispy edges the best. Sypha was just a face captured in ink and graphite now. And Adrian... He too had almost become like she was now. Like Grant, his sons, his unknown twin daughters... All of them just pictures in a book. While he could not be allowed to shed any, the tears for them were waiting too.
Please... Enough. Just stop. For an hour. Ten minutes. Sixty seconds, I'd take even. Please just let my mind quit tormenting me.
“If you like, I could help hone your senses for the spiritual side. You already have the talent to sense its presence. You just need some guidance.” Joachim offered softly at his side, without any sense of his usual haughtiness. The demon did not touch him, but Trevor felt that liquid voice slide over him just the same. “If you could sense Kitten in the fashion that I am able to, you would not miss him so terribly for you would feel him as I do right now. What I feel in him is that he is recovering well. His energy is mostly even-keeled although at this precise moment it is somewhat jubilant. He can sense you are close by, Lapin, and he is quite happy you are around.”
For a blissful second, Trevor's mind shut up. Replaced by the relief that Adrian was... Happy he was around. It made Trevor glad that he didn't leave after all. For that blissful second.
“That being said... It will take some time and practice. We will fit in such training in between your violin lessons. You have made such wonderful progress while we are waiting on Kitten on that front. I am certain you will make just as many great strides with this.” The decision seemingly made, Joachim nodded satisfactorily to himself. Trevor would be okay if the spiritual sense honing entirely replaced the torture training that was the violin, but there was so little Joachim asked of him. It seemed violins were still on the menu. “In the meantime, when you are missing dear Kitten so much it pains you, our dear heart, you may simply try this to abate some of your loneliness.”
Catching his attention, Joachim wiggled his clawed hand theatrically before reaching out to drum the claws against the side of the wood. A not unpleasant series of four little clacks, done in a languid pattern of three. Joachim waited with a smile, lips stretching when four little drumming noises from within the sarcophagus responded back. Whether he'd heard the noise - no longer deafened by injury- or simply felt the vibrations in the wood, Adrian had responded in such a timely fashion, it could not have been mistaken for just a fluke. Trevor's heart flipped just as surely as his stomach did.
“See?” Joachim said, pleased with himself. “He is telling you he is well, so cease worrying.”
Trevor stared in wonderment, placing both hands and then his ear against the wood to feel the other two responding drumbeats of four, completing the pattern of three back to Joachim. Adrian was inside but fully aware, letting them know he was still fighting to live. Silly as it may be, just as Joachim had stated, Trevor was unable to feel Adrian who was still in such a weakened state, Belmont blood or not. So the fact that he could feel the vibrations of that returning finger drum against the inside of the sarcophagus well... It was as if, for the briefest moment and more than he could ever hope to ask for, as if Adrian had reached out to touch his hand. Just the brush of his fingers, but a clear physical connection, and it did not matter in the brevity whether Trevor felt as if he did nor did not deserve the connection, it was there. He felt it. This time he got a whole thirty seconds of a mercifully stilled mind. He could not be more grateful to the Vampyre for that, and wished there was a way to repay him for everything.
Joachim was still smiling at him when his thirty seconds were up and he backed away from Adrian's resting place. The Vampyre was pleased with himself for about as long as it took to realize the lift in Trevor's mood had already crested and he was back to wallowing in the shit again. With a tired sigh, the Vampyre pressed on regardless. “Of course if you would like to partake in this little bonding activity you will need to stop trimming those nails of yours so obsessively. They look like they will grow quite sufficiently to indulge, but I must remind you that he is resting. Do try to keep it to a minimum once you are able.” Without breaking the Vampyre's gaze, Trevor fished the nail file out of his pocket and tossed it straight into the bin by the desk. The whole show drew out another one of those rich pleasing laughs from his Moroi caretaker. “You know what else, Little One? I believe that with proper guidance you will blossom into your own quite splendidly. It's a shame no one has unleashed your potential up until now. I am rarely wrong, you should know.”
This time when he fell into the other demon's arms it wasn't a cowed and fearful response to the great unknowns, but a decisive act of gratitude. How he wished the embrace could properly convey how thankful he was for everything Joachim had done so far. For helping them rescue Adrian. For keeping Yoko in the fight until the very end which is probably what saved their lives and Adrian's too. Having Yoko at his side had certainly been the deciding factor in wrangling Adrian into submission without having to harm him seriously, perhaps irreparably. For pulling Adrian and himself from the drowning cave and taking them all to Hammer for help. For giving Adrian the best conditions for recovery and keeping vigilance over him while he did so. For being a comfort and a point to focus on in Trevor's storm of anguished and unruly emotions. Such a simple act, the drumbeat of fingers, changing his whole worldview and outlook, even if it had been for just as long as a lengthy exhale of air. It had been enough. He'd begged for a second of release from his torment and got nearly half a minute. It was enough.
In his arms, he noticed the demon returning his embrace felt uncharacteristically drained. The assurity of his touch diminished and faint. It seemed unintentional. A chink in his armour that the Vampyre did not intend to let show, but Trevor had stolen a glance at it now. Joachim had done so much for them and Trevor's guilt at that reached new heights. How selfish he had been, not just in regards to Adrian but towards the demon right in front of him as well. This was not the kind of embrace that Joachim could use as repayment. He was not an overworked human but an exhausted and hungry Vampyre. Joachim's growing weakness and fatigue could be resolved quite simply. He just needed to eat. Trevor could... He could do that. Couldn't he? Why not? Had he not offered himself to Adrian that first time for exactly the same reasons? To pay Adrian back for helping Trevor on that godawful journey and keep his Dhampyre strong enough to keep fighting by his side. There were other... Well... Unintended side effects of his first offer of a blood-meal, of course.
Trevor had not exactly been able to foresee that his body would respond the way it had when Adrian began to caress and lap at his flesh instead of straight out biting him like he'd anticipated. His mother had always told him their bloodline would keep him safe from falling under such spells. Leon's protection to pair well with Saint Sara's power contained within the whip. His mother had never warned him that his own desires could override that protection, however. Perhaps it was because she did not know? He stayed far from of her personal affairs out of the absolute respect he'd carried for her, but his mother never struck him as the type to titter and bat her eyelashes at a man. Although... Trevor's very existence was proof enough she had at least once. Regardless, he knew that the... sensuality of how Adrian had fed upon him was not the norm. He hadn't been in any danger, even though the Dhampyre at the time wore such a fierce and dark glamour. Then the glamour faded in the pleasure of the moment and Trevor saw the real Adrian. Body of a Roman god but face of a Christian angel. He wasn't certain what exactly he thought in that moment, caught up in the pretty hair and pretty face newly revealed, but Yoko had taught him a modern term for it he could use retroactively. Adrian's real visage leaned over him, body strong and long against his own, lost as he was in the aftereffects of the first orgasm he had had since leaving France... Adrian had been hot. Scorching hot.
But that was Adrian. This was Joachim. Who was similarly taller than Trevor and whose shoulder's were wide enough, far more lean in the midsection than Adrian and perhaps closer to what Trevor had been in healthier days although it was hard to determine through the many layers of clothing, and with a face far more handsome than pretty. Save his bloodless yet plush lips, of which the clear indent bisecting the lower one was, in Trevor's opinion, quite fetching. Objectively, borrowing from Yoko once again, Joachim was pretty hot too. If you were lustfully into male beauty, which Trevor admittedly was... Likely not? But none of that mattered in this equation. The act of submitting was a sensual and sexual thing with Adrian. Adrian had made him feel safe enough to offer what he did back then. Adrian had earned all his trust... But hadn't Joachim by this point? Minus the sensuality? There were so many times Joachim could have taken advantage, and so many times that Trevor was too lost and weak... He would have allowed it, even if it grew sexual, if only to feel something other than pain and grief. Still, he was a Vampyre Hunter. Apparently a famous one. There was no way to know how such an ancient Vampyre was going to feed, and some bizarre sense of pride about not submitting to the very thing he was supposed to hunt came out in spades at the very thought. What he was about to do was dangerous, and his instincts rebelled, even in his current sorry state.
But is it really so dangerous? I am his, so he keeps telling me. He does seem to take care of his things, which I have born witness to thus far. He is careful with all his possessions, and handles them delicately. So I... Should be safe? His more rational mind reassured his instinctual one. This is something that only I can do for him right now. He will not leave until Adrian is restored even though he is starved. It's just blood... I will make more of it without even trying.
Moving before his erratic emotions and thoughts could dissuade him or spark another spiral of self-doubts and second guesses about his diminishing convictions, Trevor pulled at Joachim's coat lapels gently but insistently, guiding him to take a seat upon Adrian's desk chair. It was large enough to fit the Vampyre comfortably as well as Trevor's legs braced on either side of his thighs when he climbed right on top. Joachim made no move of his own other than to watch him with mild curiosity, and there was something about the passive fashion in which he just let Trevor decide where he needed to be which made the Hunter blush with a mix of confusing sensations he was too afraid to pin down and identify. If anyone were to have walked in on that exact moment, what a sight the two of them would have made for the unsuspecting. This time Trevor's blush was a deeper shade entirely because he knew what it looked like; That he was trying to seduce this other demon into a carnal type of exchange. Maybe Joachim was expecting him to, given the earlier comments and clear desire on display in their first interactions. Maybe he was just curious to see where Trevor was going to take things from here.
I am not trying to seduce another demon. I already have one! He affirmed quietly to himself, his nerves, and the weird feeling churning in his gut. My legs will lose their strength when he feeds, and this is the most convenient location to be when they do. He will not have to hold me up when it happens, that's all.
Joachim was still patiently waiting for him to reveal his intentions when he realized he was frozen in place, staring back into silver eyes with wide blue-greys. He scolded his own stupidity for the embarrassment and with a well-practised move, if a little out of use of late, performed the little hair flip and head roll that Adrian so loved to watch because of how it was a total body movement of his, and when he did it perched upon Adrian's lap, the Dhampyre enjoyed how he rocked against him. The performance served as both just the one singular freebie for Joachim pleasure, as well as the most efficient way to gather nearly all of his hair over his right shoulder. No part of of his little undulation had been for his own enjoyment, of that he insisted upon to the little voice in his head asking him 'seriously?' Ignoring it entirely, he gathered the stray strands that remained with tapered fingers, exposing his vulnerable neck to the beast before him.
Shifting about the lap he perched upon, sidling up closer and miserably failing to ignore the jolt of sensation the action caused between his legs, Trevor curled his hand around the back of the Vampyre's head, sliding the tips of his fingers into the silky silvery baby hairs he found there. Joachim seemed to catch on once Trevor's hand gripped him, and leaned forward from his slightly reclined position to mirror the grip, claws grazing but not cutting as they thread into Trevor's. It seemed like a little tease, to the Hunter, and he wasn't sure how he felt about being teased in such a vulnerable position. Still, the hand buried in his brown locks pulled gently and Trevor submitted to it, allowing his head to be twisted just so to better expose the throat on offer, the other clawed hand brushing along his pulse points and settling on a telling mark. It explored further down his flesh, pulling at the collar of his shirt to expose identical marks along his collar bone and where his neck met his shoulder.
“It looks like our Kitten favours the left side of you, sweet Rabbit.” The Vampyre mused in a low hungry growl, and Trevor was caught in his sudden burning crimson gaze. Allowing himself to be tilted in quite the opposite fashion, his hair swept also to the left and the hand that was doing so lingering just long enough to bring the dying fire in his face back to life. “Perhaps we shall leave our little Kitty Cat his preferred side?” Came a considerate purr, no less hungry. “It is very kind of you to think of me... It is all right with you if we do not stand on ceremony? I am quite ravenous.”
That is the whole point, isn't it? It was, but still, Trevor had the sense that he was crossing some great unknown. Yet this was the one thing he could offer that Joachim needed. Crossing that precipice, Trevor lowered his gaze demurely and steadying himself with an additional hand braced against the Vampyre's shoulder, leaned in. Only the slightest bit of pressure from the hand laced in silver locks was needed as permission to feed. Not knowing quite what to expect beyond the dry encyclopedic understanding of true Vampyre's taking a blood-meal, the initial penetration pulled a sharp audible hiss out of him, the size differentiation in the instrumentation of feeding used between Dhampyre and Vampyre made very apparent when closed around such sensitive flesh. While there was no savagery in the process, perhaps because he was one of Joachim's 'things', neither was it anything close to the loving, almost reverent act he had become accustomed to.
Without allowing himself to succumb to the heavy seduction or thick Force of Will in the situation, it was a curious position to be in, he found. Instinct both human and uniquely Belmont surged up again, signals and senses all screaming that he was in danger, so much that his hands and legs twitched involuntarily, as if spurring him on to attack, to fight back already. More curious, the strength in his limbs held steady. It turned out that it was the seduction that made him melt into Adrian, and not the bite itself. In one thought he wished he had his Bestiary still in his possession to update the new finding, while in the very next came the sudden embarrassing realization. If the bite alone did not sap his strength, then it had been entirely unnecessary to straddle the demon in such a compromising fashion. Joachim was an ancient Vampyre, so he had to have known it was not required so... Did he... Did he think Trevor climbed into his lap out of desire? That other kind of desire?
He closed his eyes and if he could have groaned, he would have. But then who knows, maybe the Vampyre would think it a moan and that... Was too much to think about. He kept his eyes closed and tried to focus on the sensation instead, as he was in a rare moment that allowed the study something normally he would fight tooth and nail to avoid. There was a mechanical pleasure in the penetration, perhaps a pheromone or substance in the saliva that aided the Force of Will in the seduction. Even free of the spell, the slide of the tongue against his flesh lapping up a stray trickle felt good. He wasn't in any great deal pain that he was aware of, but he still thought he preferred Adrian's tinier fangs. They were cute.
Blue-greys cracking open in a lidded unfocused gaze, Trevor felt his ability to pay attention to what his body was telling him fade in and out. The dreamy state certainly caused by blood loss, he idly reasoned, and impossible to be something more. The Vampyre had said he was famished, did he not? His mind drifted to Adrian, running his tongue up along his neck, adorable fangs pressing into that spot where his neck met his shoulder. That was Adrian's favourite place to bite. For a second, silver hair in his peripheral vision,lacking the secret gold or not, paired with the size and shape beneath him... It really was close enough for the imagination. Trevor felt something in him shift a little. A mental slippage of sorts that pulled a long sigh out of him as he fully relaxed into the embrace. His mind finally ceased it's torments...Until the metal harness digging into chest broke the fantasy and everything ugly and awful came crashing back into him. This was not Adrian, it was Joachim. This was not an intimate act, but dare he say, a medically necessary one. Shocked and ashamed at how quickly and easily he had turned what was supposed to be a selfless act into a self-serving one, Trevor flinched back, too shocked to even offer an apology, and causing the fangs still lodged in him to tear at his flesh.
Joachim simply studied him for a long moment as Trevor was paralyzed by shame, trying to gather his wits with a weak hand held up to stymie the trickling blood. “Here we are again with your mood whiplashes.” The Vampyre seemed to be making the comment more to himself, still watching Trevor with a searing precise focus. Whatever he saw within the Hunter during the next few moments at last made his decision. With a practised hand, the blue leather was discarded followed by a clinking sound below his purview, before Trevor saw that Joachim had loosened the clasps that held decoratively designed, but ultimately utilitarian metal harness. The weight of that following the leather jacket hitting the desk top behind them had a distinctly final sound to it. “Belle Lapin...” Joachim spoke in the now deafening silence. “If you need to pretend that I am Kitten to get what it is you so clearly need tonight, you may. You have my permission to use me in such a fashion. I will not be offended by your wandering thoughts. You are falling into the same trappings as my other pet frequently does; Applying human morals to a very demon arrangement.”
But I am human... His hesitating mind whined. Adrian is human too, and he sure does get just as jealous as any other man I've met over his lover dallying.
The hand held to his trickling wound was removed, enveloped by a larger one and brought to bloodless lips where a hot tongue could dart out to lick clean the sanguine staining them. Once neat and tidy, that larger hand pulled his further, urging him to wrap his arm around the Vampyre's shoulder, in essence, pulling him back into range. Making it just too easy for him to give into baser desire and that soul-wrenching need to still his abusive thoughts. It would be no lie to say it was Trevor who slid back up along those thighs, pressing bodies together without sharp angled metal to bruise or distract from the fantasy now.
Demon arrangements, right? Perhaps it really did not matter, he wondered as his hair was brushed aside with the same lingering touch. Everything was close enough to what he wanted it to be, which was the Dhampyre asleep inside his coffin.
“The taste of you is quite heaven-sent.” Joachim shared in a hushed whisper, as if afraid to break Trevor's new resolve to stop caring about who he may or may not be hurting or betraying for the next handful of minutes. “Kitten has been spoiled having this all to himself. He's hardly earned you.”
That's not true at all... I am the one who is -
The spiralling negative narrative of the past few days died when porcelain teeth sunk into his flesh. This time the Hunter was not resolute and closed off to the act. It was not just an offer of sustenance and no more than that. This time he wanted it. Would have begged for it if asked to, and would have done so to comply without shame. Desire taking the reigns, a breathy moan was knocked free, and the demon responded to his neediness in kind. No longer polite and dignified feeding, instead all tongue and teeth, hands roving possessively. Gripping at hips to grind him down until another moan was pulled free, and sliding up under his shirt to try and steal other sounds he tried his best to keep to himself. Another bite caused a hiss, this time higher up on his neck, near the jaw, where anyone who looked at him would be able to see, and absolutely done on purpose. It was a declaration. A brand of ownership, and in that moment the fact that another would so boldly lay claim to him was not infuriating, but wickedly arousing. Yet another bite lower near his collar bone, and Trevor barely noticed he was now laying down, pinned beneath a shape he chose not to focus upon in order to maintain the fantasy. His body detached from conscious choice, free to follow and chase whatever sensations it desired.
Chase them it did, pulling that familiar enough shape down to better engage in that desired friction, even having to grab at the hips above his own to get them to stop being so damnably respectful about his personal space. It was way passed that point now, wasn't it? It was officially in deal with the consequences later territory, passed the point of caring for anything but chasing after the kind of release that would burn away the doubts and guilt and everything else along with it. It was so close... So close to being enough, but wasn't quite enough. With a frustrated noise escaping in spite of his best effort to keep it safely within, his hand found the closest one that didn't belong to himself and guided it where he needed it to be. A silent but urgent plea from a creature suffering on the brink.
Just touch me. Please, please just touch me. End me.
Another coveted noise, this one a low moan, wriggled out of his grasp as that hand that was not his own closed around him and stroked and he was finally rewarded with a flash of white and then blackness behind closed eyes, and most importantly, a still and quiet mind.
There were mindless and gentle residuals pleasures eked out in the darkness by a lingering and thorough touch. His flesh caressed soothingly, and his clothing re-arranged into decency once more. A comforting weight partially sprawled across his body and a hand toyed with his hair. For a long time it seemed that that was all the new world was. Blackness and gentleness. Nothing plagued him in the quiet. No guilt of pain. Just softness and stillness.
“Such a rare creature you are.” A whisper in liquid silver complimented. Airy, yet still as smooth. “I would have said you are one of a kind until our little foray into that cave recently. Obviously... You are not one of a kind... But I think Kitten and I would be in agreement that you are the finer specimine out of the pair of you.”
The pair of me..? The Shadow. The Lilû? I don't... want to think about that thing right now. I don't want to think period. That was the whole point in pretending such a weirdly polite Vampyre with a handsome face could stand in for my pretty secret gold.
He hoped his reluctance came through their connected flesh loud and clear. Adrian's hands and fangs on his body could send the world away. The fantasy of him alone had done the job. Awful ugly and cruel thoughts stood at the banks of the river of his mind, while he took his time on the secluded islet. He was untouchable here, and he wanted to linger as long as possible in the untouchable place. He already knew he was going to feel extra lousy when the river ran dry and the memories from the dark consumed him once again. This reprieve, as needed as it was... had cost him in other ways. He now had to tell Adrian what he'd done to gain it, on top of everything else.
Joachim perhaps got the message as he did not continue that line of thinking. Out loud, anyway. Instead he pivoted after a thoughtful once-over of the prone body below him. “I can see you are still caught up in the after-glow, sweet Rabbit. I will refrain from gloating about how I was correct to assume you just needed to get laid. And, while you are not distracted or troubled by the silly things you ought not to be troubled or distracted by, listen very closely this time when I speak.”
Such a brusque and cool command to follow after such a heated little entanglement. But seeing as Trevor had no plans of his own at the moment, he listened as attentively as a man still riding out residual waves of pleasure possibly could.
“Because you suffer from the same faulty logic as dear Adrian, in time you will start to feel as if you have done him dirty. That what you did just now was wrong. When that happens, I would like you to try and keep in mind what I taught you about Demon Hierarchy, and the roles we three have in play. Seeking your pleasures to alleviate your suffering or for any other reason at all, with any other person, demon or otherwise, does not in any way mean that you do not love him, or that you love him any less than before, or any less than he loves you. Your love and concern for him is why you are suffering. He means so much to you that it is affecting how you operate. You would climb inside that coffin and take his place in your next heartbeat could you or would it have any benefit. What you two have is a fine and pure demon love, and sex has nothing to do with that. Adrian is home for you, Trevor Belmont, as he wishes to be so as to keep you by his side. It is where you belong.”
It was a good thing, Trevor decided in that moment, that he was still unable to think. He wasn't sure what he would be thinking about when presented with the logic he was at this given moment. So he kept listening, filing the lecture away for when his brain decided it was time to do some lifting again, unsure he would ever really get used to demon logic.
“I wish to keep you both, so I will as well. The care of my charges and their needs are mine to fulfill and provide if required. I've cared for Adrian. He is now safely returned to me and recovering well, as I've said. That left only you, Little One, and such a tough nut to crack you turned out to be. I should have thought of this sooner, given what I saw in the cave. So I do apologize, but only for taking so long to provide you your needs, not for doing the service. You on the other hand, have absolutely nothing to apologize for. When Adrian awakens, he will find that my lax approach to these lessons over the past few centuries is over. I will beat it into him if need be, that human morals, human sensitivities, and human principles have no place in a demon affair. He will be made to understand that you've done no wrong.” Long rant winding down, Joachim tilted his head and smiled a little mischievously. With a glance shot over his shoulder at the sarcophagus, he mused satisfactorily. “Well now, it looks like violence will be unnecessary. I think our dumb halfbreed finally understands his arrangement.”
I don't even... Trevor started to reel, but the blackness settled comfortably before he could tailspin. It's fine. For now it's just fine.
He felt Joachim get up, and moments later was draped with something warm. By the smell of the faint cologne, it was Adrian's coat from the chair. Someone told him to get some rest and that everything would be more tolerable when he awoke. So Trevor did just that. There were no fitful night terrors or cold sweats or his throat swollen by a scream torn out in the early morning hours. In fact, he thought he may have had a dream, though he could not recall the nature of it when he woke.
As was his new normal, he was sitting in the dark, cold and hungry. His arms had been cut up, but the blood was only a slow ooze, thick and clotted. It was hard to think or remember anything but knives and blood and cold. And the dark. The terrifying lonely darkness. It consumed him. Then there was light in the distance. There was never light in this place. But there was this time. A beautiful blue light. Witch-fire. He recognized it instantly, his heart yearning for a witch he used to know a long time ago. Her hair was reddish-gold, his witch. This one that appeared was dark. But as dark as she was, she shone brilliantly in the dank depths he had been sentenced to.
“Look what they have done to you. My Sisters have been so cruel.”
Her voice was a kind melody. Trevor wanted to listen to her speak for the rest of his life. Her touch too was kind and soft as she pulled him to his feet and bore the weight of him when he did not have the strength alone to stand. Her vibrant energy almost seemed to siphon into him as she helped lead him out of the depths. His strength grew near every step until he walked into the open air under his own power.
The crisp air tasted so sweet.
The vibrantly kind woman pulled up to his side as he was lost in the reverie of freedom in a horse-drawn wagon, throwing a blanket over his shivering naked form and then digging out another to better wrap him in it's warmth, she guided him to take a place at her side.
“Do not mind Arden.” The woman said, gesturing to the back of the wagon where a strange black creature hid amongst more blankets and provisions. “He is the one who found you for me.”
Trevor did not mind Arden at all. He thanked the funny little creature for finding him.“Where... are we going?” He asked, not fully believing he was not going to awaken in the pitch black again, cut up and bleeding.
The dark haired woman had green eyes that glittered like jewels in the moonlight. She was achingly beautiful. She had saved him... and he found he loved her right then. He would never not love her for that one act of kindness.
“We are going to try and find a home. A place to belong. Does that suit you?”
“I... I think I have a home.” He replied, unsure about anything at all.
“I don't think your home is there anymore, Little One. You have been imprisoned for a terribly long time. Four hundred years, you know? Or maybe you do not know... I hardly believed it myself. But here you are, and unmistakably, the resemblance cannot be denied.” Green jewels looked him over fondly, and Trevor felt special. Like he meant something to her. He did want to mean something to her. She had saved him.“The potency of your blood too cannot be denied. I will not force you, but I would like to tell you my dream for the future of ones like myself. I believe once you listen to my dream, you will wish to help me. Could I ask that you at least give me the chance to tell you?”
He could not deny her. So he listened. As she spoke, he had visions of a reddish-gold witch and a silver-haired demon with secret strands of gold hidden within. Large blue eyes. Piercing amber eyes. Tanned skin. White skin. So different from each other, but loved all the same. This beautiful woman wanted to find a home for them both. Where they would both be safe from the world who hated them.
Trevor wanted that too, so he agreed to help her.
Alone with a sleeping Adrian in the darkened office, an equally slumbering Trevor Belmont murmured a name.
“Esteffi.”
Notes:
I wrote 12K words to basically tell you three things.
-Trevor is a slut, don't judge him.
-All Desire Demons are potentially polyamorous, don't @ them
-Trevor maybe thinks he loves the witch who did Adrian dirty
Chapter 40: Sabrina
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
November 2037 ~ In a Van Down by the River
While literally nobody on heaven or earth or the plane in between but a medical fetishist would enjoy going on a field-trip to the hospital, Yoko will fairly say that the ones in this country she's been inside of during her investigation stay have been on the pretty descent to pretty okay range. You know, for the kind of excursion you're only on when you're down on your luck. And truth be told, old man Jules did a pretty good job assessing her prognosis, likely due to a long and far back-dated medical history. As with any hunter worth his salt. Indeed, all in, Yoko was only required to suffer itchy, damp dirty clothes for roughly fourteen hours. She slept a third of that, in between X-rays, bloodwork, wound-cleaning, stitching, and finally some wound-dressing. She had a sweet translated pamphlet print-out of at-home physio to slowly incorporate into her day, and a set of temporary restrictions. A prescription for pain management and antibiotics, and a few fancy supplies to tide her over like extra bandages and these sweet little waterproof adhesive covers to protect the whole production from water while showering.
That last one was pretty neat. Those were going to be given a whirl ASAP if she had anything to say about it.
It was her poor mangled hands, actually, that were top of the list for annoyance. She had mittens, basically. It was impossible to do anything with mittens on. She couldn't change in and out of the hospital gown without Hammer's help. She couldn't scroll through her phone for entertainment. How the hell was she going to type out the bajillion-page report the Iron Maiden was going to want detailing why she was in such a sorry state? It was ostensibly a Future Yoko problem. Maybe she'd get out on Short-Term Disability from report write-ups. Or an assistant to transcribe it for her? That might be fun. Dictating her tale.
Without much else to do, and feeling rather run-down, she napped on the way back to Hammer's recluse vacation bunker and did not once, not one single time, even think about the dramatic Desire demons and their confusing dynamics or maybe love triangle. Although she couldn't help sharing the bizarre hierarchy as explained to her and their courtship rituals as a general topic to pass the time with Hambone at the hospital, much to his confusion. But that was general info and not at all proof she kept distracting herself from her own mess of... mess... by obsessing over other people's messes like Hammer was not not implying she may be. Mostly, they talked in quite a hopeful way about finally getting back home – Yoko's home, as Hammer had no specific allegiance to any country – and everything they were going to need to wrap up in order to achieve that goal. Collecting all her expenses, receipts, returning gear, those godawful reports and summaries. Starting with seeing just exactly what a teenaged witch who was caught up in something she had no business being in had to say about ritual sacrifices and unlawful imprisonment.
The trailer was just as still as they left it after following the demons she was absolutely not thinking about's car out. The now empty camp chair was even still sitting by the door, abandoned thermos discarded by the wayside. Yoko lets herself in while Hammer walked his perimeter out of habit to check for any signs of tampering or mischief, only to find Julius and the blonde girl seated across from one another at the fold-out table. There isn't exactly any perceivable tension in the air between the unlikely pair, and Yoko wonders if Jules has spent the better part of their time alone just endearing himself towards the lost little girl. She seems to be calmer and less taciturn from a quick overview. Spread out before the teen is a half-eaten plate of eggs and a fried hash mixture of potatoes, bacon and peppers. She is playing with her coffee mug, absentmindedly twisting it back and forth when Yoko's interruption into the small space startles her a little. She seems to recognize Yoko and calms down just as suddenly.
“G'day.” Yoko greets with an exhausted but victorious grin, and takes the much longer with mittens time to pour herself some coffee before sliding in next to Julius. Her mentor accommodates her by throwing his arm over the back of the bench so she fits, with a second spared to give her ponytail a playfully affectionate tug, as if to welcome her back into the fold. His own hair is down for once – a rare occurrence to be sure – and Yoko's keenly aware of just how much more it makes him look like their younger grandfather. In the same vein... Also how much more his loose locks makes him appear to be an older version of the Lilû the girl may be familiar with. Yoko wouldn't be surprised if that was the reason why.
The girl is now looking between the pair of them, clearly unsure what to think going by her expression, and pensive about how soon the interrogation will begin, or perhaps even the methods they might employ to get the info they are seeking out of her. That apprehensive yet resigned air returns to hang heavy around the girl, removing her fear of the unknown in place of her tremulous surrender. It is an expected and understandable reaction on her part considering just who this little girl has been running around underground caves with prior. It is not, however, a valid apprehension to hold, as neither Jules nor Yoko are complete monsters. Still, Yoko too finds she is starting to play with her coffee mug, pawing at it clumsily with her bandage mittens, feeding off the girls energy. Jules isn't saying anything, and actually appears to be waiting for her to take charge. She's never lead an interrogation that was not in a theoretical or practice form. She's sat in them with Jules often enough, but never lead them. Yoko's not hugely confident about this power shift in their dynamics all of a sudden, but looking at the quiet girl before her does give the sorceress the idea she leads with.
“I want to thank you for getting the other man to assist me, and for helping me hold the rope. The whip.” She corrects, wiggling her mittens for show, if the visual aid was required. “You helped me save my cousin's life. I'll never forget that you did that kind selfless act. Thank you so much.”
This is clearly not what the girl is expecting out of the interrogation as there is an attempt to stammer a reply, but ultimately she fails to make a complete, coherent response. That is okay, Yoko thinks. She had just wanted the little witch to know the assist the girl had no reason to provide was deeply appreciated. Yoko has a feeling the witch has a good heart and good morals. She thinks she's going to be banking on that assumption to get through this current hurdle.
“My name is Yoko, and I am a Church appointed and fully licensed Arcane Specialist. My partner Julius here is a Church sanctioned Investigative Hunter. We have been tasked with tracking a rogue Coven suspected to be responsible for the deaths of dozens, if not more. Certainly, we have found enough proof of the desecration and theft of corpses. We have also definitive proof of the unlawful forced imprisonment of an innocent man, as well as that same crime perpetuated against Ambassador Ţepeş, the world's leading activist for the ongoing coalition between human and demon affairs. These are very serious accusations and offences. The political ramifications are quite severe and it is too early to tell what damage this may have done to the ongoing peace talks and integration programs between our World Leaders and the Demon World's representatives. Please communicate to me that you understand the severity of the situation.”
The girl's face had blanched significantly, but she nodded nervously at Yoko's request. “Y-Yes... I-I-I understand.”
“Now, just the injuries sustained to our persons by the group you were found on the company of is enough grounds to bring you in. You appear to be very young and you may have been coerced or manipulated. We are here to determine how much agency you had and the crimes you may be complicit in. I want you to rest assured that you are not in any sort of danger from us. You will not be harmed, threatened, or anything of the sort. You are, however, in a lot of legal and international troubles. Perhaps more than you can fathom at this time, regardless of the level of your willing consent to be engaged with this Coven.” Yoko stated the facts as disconnectedly as she could. How sorry she felt for the girl had no bearing on making her understand just how hooped she probably was going forward. “I am... I was going to say I am not trying to scare you, but that is a half-truth. The situation is what it is, and I'd like you to fully comprehend that what happens from here on out depends entirely upon your next actions.” With a deep breath in to steady her nerves that she really hopes the little girl doesn't notice, Yoko felt Jules' hand give her shoulder a reassuring little squeeze from out of eyesight of their suspect. A silent way to let her know she was doing good. Yoko... really appreciated that too.
More certain in her approach, the sorceress made use of her new found trick learned prior to their excursion into the woods. The very same one she honed by studying Joachim employ it liberally the previous night. Reaching her essence out across the camper with more confidence than she had any right to, her energy plucked her grimoire, the case notes, and two pens for both Jules and herself to utilize and pulled them over to lay out upon the table. With her tendril of essence she also lifted the girl's discarded breakfast plate out of the way. It was so much easier to mimic his flows having been the Vampyre for the entirety of an eve. Joachim used a light touch, Yoko had made note of, and his energy expenditure was highly efficient. He only ever seemed to use what was strictly needed for the task at hand, unlike Yoko's throw everything at anything approach. A fine approach for combat when striking hard and fast was the name of the game, but not so much for other tasks, she was learning. The light touch approach allowed her to use what she could manage in this new method and spread it out. Begrudgingly, the sorceress admitted internally that there were a bunch of hot tips from last night she needed to write down before she forget them entirely and had to ask the Vampyre for another demo. Seriously, she was not in any way sure how that request would be taken. Another Future Yoko problem, she guessed.
Focusing on the arduous and unfamiliar task at hand, Yoko's tendrils of energy spread her grimoire and the case notes out between Jules and herself, depositing pens, and even fished out Jules' notebook for him to take his famous notes. All prepped and ready, Yoko next fixed the girl with what she hoped was a sympathetic but all together firm look and gently waved a hand at her to prompt. “Would you like to tell me your name and what exactly it is you were doing in that cave system last night?”
Interrogation commenced, Jules' pen lifted as he was poised to capture every detail that fell out of the little witch's mouth, and Yoko was thankful for that too. She was kinda only maaaaybe sure she could hold the pen with her essence and write, but she wasn't sure sure she could, and didn't want to risk looking like the rookie she still was if she fumbled it. The girl fidgeted in place, trading looks back and forth between the Church 'hired goons', but Yoko left her to get over the hurdle without any assistance, verbal or otherwise. There were some things you just had to work through, and this was one of them. The witch was going to have to show them her true nature and see where the chips fell on the board. Eventually after enough stalling, the blonde girl gathered her courage and pushed her coffee cup to the wayside. Her pupils were ringed with a light brown, misted with unshed tears and blown wide with numerous emotions. Yoko maintained her neutral but receptive expression in an effort to encourage the girl's bravery, more than a little nervous herself on what exactly they were about to find out.
“Sabrina.” The young woman revealed in her tiny voice, strained from likely everything that had happened in the last eighteen or so hours. The witch's full name, where she was from, who her parents were and all those necessary deets could wait. Yoko wanted to hear why this tiny little thing was where they had found her, so she simply nodded along encouragingly and kept silent. “You are... very welcome. I didn't really... do very much. I-I... I just didn't want to see anyone else get hurt... Or... Or... Die.” An internal struggle, a lip quiver, and a deep swallow later, the girl finished in an even lower voice that she had begun. “She said that she was going to give people like us a home where we never had to hide who we were and never had to be shamed, scorned, and registered like a farm animal set for slaughter. She promised that we would be safe from prejudice, and that no more witches would suffer hate crimes or unfair punishment, restrictions... Stuff like that. Injustices. We were going to be safe. We were finally going to just live our lives and then... I don't understand...” The tears did fall now. “What happened? What went wrong? Why are they all dead?”
Feeling the girl was about to spiral, Yoko redirected her, hoping the point of focus would keep her from shutting down again. “She? This is the High Priestess of the Coven, you speak of? Can you tell me more about her and her promises?”
Spiral still in motion, the girl shook her head and asked in a desperate voice. “That man... That Vampyre. Is he coming back here?”
Yoko could totally get that. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Joachim's morbid carousal of corpses sprinkling blood against the walls and floor. That or Alucard... Devouring. The probability the poor girl had watched Joachim string up his playthings was very... very high. “No, Sabrina. The Vampyre was there to retrieve Ambassador Ţepeş. He has no business with you, and in all likelihood you will never see him again. Take a deep breath... And please tell me about the High Priestess.”
Sniffling but the girl now reassured, she gathered herself and complied. “I don't know if it is her real name or not. We all were on first name only basis. Our High Priestess always referred to herself as Estefania... Some of the ones who were closest to her called her Esteffi for short... The demon she had with her always called her Esteffi too. I don't know much about her personally... But she was always nice to me and the other new girls. She was approachable, and she tried to get to know us all even though she seemed crazy busy all the time.” Sabrina explained, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Estefania told us that she had found a way to give us all this safe haven a long time ago and that now was the perfect opportunity because there is no Master of the Castle at current. It is free to be ours, now. She said that the plan has been in the works since the Demon Wars.”
Well, that certainly settled it then. Of course... Of bloody course it was a hundred percent the fucking Castle at the heart of the matter. They'd heavily suspected this all along, as nothing else made sense, but it was still just different hearing it confirmed out loud once and for all. It was the only logical reason all these non-Japanese witches had gathered in Japan to perform their rituals. The veil in between had been the thinnest here until just recently. It seemed like the Coven had missed their window and were now on the move. Disbanded hopefully, but far more than likely, just redirected. Sooner or later the access point would return to where it typically was want to be; Near the mountains of Baljhet. Sighing inwardly, all Yoko could do was prompt the girl further along. “How did Estefania intend to make the Castle your new home, Sabrina?”
“Well I...” The girl struggled again, unsure how to answer. “I really just got here not that long ago...” She admitted in a meek tone. The admission actually explained a lot about the girl's demeanour and willingness to cooperate. She wasn't as deeply embroiled in the cause yet as the mountain woman Maja or bespectacled Miss Mousy who accompanied this Estefania evidently were. “It was a ritual. A special and secretive kind of ritual that needed to be preformed flawlessly or it would not succeed... Which was interrupted, so it didn't work. When I arrived three weeks ago I was told that we were all just waiting around to see if the Castle would return to the access point in Romania where it usually can be sensed, or if it will wander somewhere else in the world. It is a Chaos entity, and does not follow logic, although it does seem to have some preferences. Once we knew for sure where it was settled for the time being, we could try again.”
“You do not know the nature of this ritual? There were no details shared with you?”
“Not entirely... no. But some.” Sabrina replied, her tears drying and tone levelling out as she divulged. The focus on recalling the details seem to remove her from her emotions about the whole affair. “I know it was a blood ritual. The kind whose knowledge of it is not shared openly... The umm... The roots of this ritual stem from the Demon realm. There is a lot of blood and conditional requirements for the catalyst to take effect.”
“Catalyst?” Yoko raised a questioning brow.
Sabrina nodded. “Yes. The sacrifice. It had to not only be one full of powerful essence, but also willing to sacrifice or the ritual would fail. The price asked of the catalyst was great and noble altruism, to freely accept the death of self. Finding the right sacrifice to trigger the catalyst was more than half the battle.”
“Willing.” Yoko repeated to herself in disbelief. Trevor Belmont had not in any way, shape, or form, seemed like a willing participant to his own blood draining when she saw him laid out on that alter six months ago. She remembered a frail bloody thing in Alucard's arms opening his eyes after a miraculous return to life... and looking so very sad and remorseful up at the Dhampyre. That little exchange had stuck with Yoko.
“Yes, that is correct. We were all supposed to be respectful of the sacrifice and our High Priestess. They are giving up so much of themselves for our future. The gift of freedom that the sacrifice is providing us must be accepted with all the grace and gratitude owed to such a selfless act.”
To Yoko's ears, the explanation was sounding a hell of a lot like a cult speech's talking points, and based on the slight downturn of Julius' lips, the old hunter thought so as well. While it may be that Sabrina hadn't been in the fold physically for that long, some of the indoctrination was already settled in her bones, that was for sure. The Church had specialists who could help the girl later. Yoko and Julius weren't here to deprogram an initiate, so here she pivoted, digging through her phone to find a photo to assist with her next question. She found the one she was looking for easily, having taken it not too long ago. A nice candid shot of Trevor in full sun, eyes off-side and full of expectancy as he waited for Alucard – also in the photo – to read him the entry on the flashy rainbow-y green beetle he'd caught from the little Japanese reference guide. For a second or two she shouldn't have spared, given the situation, she did smile a little at her two grandpas. She'd caught just the moment their eyes met; adoration plainly displayed for anyone who cared to look. It was sweet... But she cropped Alucard out once the moment passed as he was an entirely separate line of questioning she had, and showed the girl the photo of her dearly beloved blood-grandpa.
“Before last night, have you seen him before?” Yoko asked.
“Arden?” The girl questioned in return, but shook her head and leaned in closer to better study the picture. “No... He.. That is the other man who was with the Vampyre, right?” Sabrina nodded to herself when Yoko gave a single nod of her own. “Then no, I have not. He looks just like Estefania's friend. The funny demon. His name is Arden.”
“You've only met up three weeks ago with this Coven in person, you mentioned. So you would say to your best knowledge, you are not aware of this man and Estefania having any relation?”
“He really does look like Arden. It gave me a start when you sent me up the wall to get him to help you.” The witch mumbled as she thought, eyes locked on the photo. Her tone cleared and strengthened when she responded properly. “No, I am not aware of anything of the sort.”
Yoko nodded again and re-cropped her photo to instead focus on Alucard now. Just the same as before, she held it out for Sabrina to study. “You did see this man while you were joined up with the coven?”
The photo caused a recoil in the girl, one that she did a poor job trying to mask. Seeing she was caught seconds later, the little thing sighed and surrendered once more. “I did. Maja brought him back along with Arden a few weeks ago. He was out cold. I guess Arden caught him actually... He is a Vampyre as well, I think? His aura was demonic enough.”
“What do you know of what happened to him after Arden and Maja caught him?”
“I actually... I don't' know. Estefania took him down to the lake and then we never saw him again.” Here Sabrina stopped to think, switching between worrying her hands and aggressively twisting her hair as she scoured her memories. Her brown eyes widened again as her lips parted in a silent gasp. “He... That wasn't a Vampyre, was it? That was a Dhampyre... right?”
Yoko gave nothing away, not wanting to lead a witness on, but she didn't have to. Sabrina was arriving at the truth all by herself.
“I remember thinking he was so handsome. That he looked familiar. One of the older women said he looked like the Demon Prince and I didn't really think much about that comment at the time...” Sabrina finally decided wrapping her arms around herself and hugging tight was the action she would go with, and met Yoko's eyes. “The man Arden and Maja brought back truly was the Demon Prince Alucard Ţepeş. That's why you two are here.” The girl inhaled deeply. “Oh wow, you really weren't kidding. I am really in some, like, serious shit aren't I?”
It was a pretty teenaged response, so Yoko couldn't help the tired dry laugh that slipped out. “That would be correct, Sabrina. That was Ambassador Ţepeş you saw. So you really did not see him after Estefania took him to this lake?”
“No.” The girl affirmed. “Not... not until you showed up. He was... the injured bat, right? The one the man who looks like Arden was carrying around?” When Yoko didn't confirm or deny anything, Sabrina just shrugged to herself. “Well... Arden and Estefania kept visiting the lake afterwards. They'd dive in and disappear for a while. Arden especially, but doing weird things was pretty normal for him, so nobody seemed to think anything of it... I certainly didn't.” Shrugging again, the witch hazard a hypothesis she freely shared. “I think the Ambassador was kept in the lake. I'm not sure how, but you know Vampyre's cannot cross natural bodies of free flowing water. Maybe Dhampyre's can't either? Estefania's magickal talents aren't like anything I have ever seen before. She can do stuff I have never seen written down in any grimoire. I'm sure she could have kept him contained down there somehow.”
Julius shot Yoko a grim look she returned. Being trapped at the bottom of a freshwater lake would absolutely explain the peeling, raw, blotchy acid burns all over Alucard's body that she had seen. It didn't quite explain the charred stripes, but Yoko had recognized those wounds as coming from anointed silver. It stood to reason that the utilization of silver bindings, chains or otherwise have been what kept him in the lake water. Yoko's temper flared briefly and she had to look away from the girl lest Sabrina think her rage was intended for the teen. She didn't want to scare the girl back into silence. Acid burning Alucard's eyes and ears had been why he was found deafened and blind, they at least knew for certain now.
Forcing herself calmer, Yoko asked in monotone. “Who is Estefania's friend with the thick glasses?”
“Midge.” Sabrina answered automatically, before correcting herself. “Margaret. We all called her Midge, though. She is from England as well.”
“Where's Maja from?”
“I don't know. Midge was nice. Maja was... Not very approachable.” Sabrina gave Yoko an apologetic look, and nervously asked her own questions. “The Demon Prince was the man who actually pulled your friends to safety when we were trying to hold onto the whip, wasn't he? The injured bat?” She closed her eyes when Yoko confirmed and looked genuinely contrite. “I didn't know... I didn't think Estefania wanted to hurt anyone...”
“Sabrina...” Yoko started but was interrupted before she could ask her next question by another from the girl.
“What is going to happen to us all now? The Ambassador is a beloved public figure in our communities. I actually used to be in his fanclub when I was younger... I adore him and what he is trying to do for us. I would never have dreamed of...” Sabrina bit down on her rambling before asking simply. “Is he going to be all right?”
Yoko could only be honest. She didn't have the answer, and it's not like she could text Alucard to find out. “That remains to be seen. His injuries are grave, no pun intended. As for what is going to happen, you are all considered at this point and time to be dangerous threats to public safety. You will all be Hunted. Those who surrender will be taken in peacefully for questioning and arrested if required, and those who do not... Well, you saw enough last night.” Breezing by the true depths of ugliness from last night, Yoko continued. “The true legal ramifications are to be seen. If the Ambassador succumbs to his grievous wounds, you will be internationally condemned criminals. As you yourself have mentioned, the Ambassador is a beloved public figure. The calls for Justice on his behalf will ring out across the globe.”
This seemed to be the thing that really struck Sabrina, and girl's eyes misted up again. Her lips quivering returned... Before she broke out into full blown sobs. Yoko and Julius let her cry it out for as long as she needed... which was somewhere between fifteen and twenty minutes. In that time, Yoko got her some water, removing the coffee mug, and Julius found her a Kleenex box.
“I just wanted to live somewhere without the government micromanaging my life.” Sabrina sobbed, more under control now, but still tearing through tissues like no tomorrow. One of her hands kept tracing the outline of her little curved sword tattoo, almost as if trying to draw strength from it. “I don't want to register like a sex-offender just for being able to channel.”
Yoko truly empathized with her sentiments. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right that still in this day and age there could be a second and third class type of citizen in the developed world. Regardless, murder and calling on the Chaos power of the Castle could and should not be the response to their plight. But is had been. Their actions had truly decimated the legitimacy of their cause, and it was clear Sabrina was coming to terms with that just now. Whether Alucard wanted it or not, his torture was going to end up a political talking point for years to come, and it would be another form of torture for him to watch his suffering be used against the people he routinely stood for. The whole thing was a mess, that was for damn sure.
“Sabrina, aside from Maja and Midge, is there anyone else in Estefania's inner circle you can tell us about? Can you elaborate on them too? Do they perform any specific functions in the Coven? Is there anything that you can tell us about the demon Arden?”
Still tracing her sword, the little witch shook her head. “There is an Ioana I heard of who is handling things in Romania. I don't know much about her or what she is handling. As for Maja, she's pretty deadly with her magick. A real powerhouse. I think she's Estefania's bodyguard or something. It's, like, how she acts, anyway.” Hemming and hawing a bit, as if reluctant to tattle on the witch she claimed was nice, Sabrina eventually gave in. In for a penny, in for a pound, so the saying went. “Midge jokes that she is a stereotype... and I guess she kinda is. She's smart and deeply knowledgeable about her craft. She is the one who was teaching all us newbies how to improve out arcane talents, as well as gauging where we would be able to help out the best. I saw her working with Estefania a lot on their traps and other flows, and I saw her studying Arden a lot too. After his 'Esteffi', Arden seems to like Midge the most.” More waffling and reluctance, Sabrina pushed herself onwards. “Arden is very sweet. Estefania explained to all us initiates that he would be classified as a Desire demon, but that he was very ancient, so it was hard to say with any certainty. She did promise we had nothing to fear from him, and I think she was being completely honest. Arden kind of looked out for the group of us, letting us know if an outsider was close by and stuff. He was pretty skittish, from what I saw. The four of them are pretty much who are in charge.”
“Small core group, I see.” Yoko murmured. Estefania was playing things close to her chest it seemed, in spite of her open invitations to all witches. “Is there anyone else involved who is not a part of the Coven? Anyone you saw helping out? Any companies you saw supplying materials for rituals or otherwise? Food delivery?”
“No... Not that I know of. There was some mentions of an Alpha Rhysand? The women whispering about him seemed to be referring to him antagonistically. I don't think he was an asset or ally to our cause. Same for this Elder Erwin. I looked him up online. He is a shaman of some kind with a decent following. Estefania seemed worried about him catching on to what we were doing. That's really... all I know. I promise. I really just got here not that long ago and I was so caught up thinking I was going to get to live freely. Until last night, this whole thing was just, like, a giant celebratory party for me. I think it was for a lot of us...”
“Okay, Sabrina.” Yoko gave the girl a small smile. “I am going to give you a pen and a notepad.” She did with more of her essence grabbing trick, and Sabrina waited for instructions. “I would like you to detail exactly what your movements were from England to where you are right now. When you left, who you spoke to online, offline, whoever wherever. Who picked you up here. The names of the new friends you made, and any details you can recall about them. Everything you saw that stuck out at you. What you learned from Midge. Anything you think would be useful information, and anything you think won't. I want you to draw a map of the caves, and what each room was for. Use this as a therapy tool while you're at it and write out everything you thought and felt about what you've encountered since arriving in Japan. Julius and I are going to step outside to give you some privacy. When you are finished just open the door to let us know. Okay?”
“Okay.” The girl agreed. “Can I call my mother again after?”
“Of course.” Yoko promised. She'd let her make a long distance on her own phone that the Church didn't pay the bill of if need be, but Jules would probably let her use his. Yoko stood up from the cramped bench to fetch Hammer a piping hot mug of coffee with her mitten hands. When Julius took it from her clumsy grasp, balancing their notes, his journal and now her apology mug for her boyfriend, Yoko could see the girl was struggling to ask her one final question. “What is it, Sabrina?” She prompted.
“Are you Yoko Belnades?”
The question caused her to stutter a bit, freezing in place. Yoko's family was famous but not famous famous, although they were established in specific circles well enough. Yoko herself was just a young rookie witch however. She wasn't the kind of Belnades that got recognized on sight even within those specific inner circles. That was more her Mama's thing. At least, she didn't think she was noteworthy in any sense. “I am Yoko Belnades, yes.” She managed to reply without choking entirely on her tongue. The answer caused a flash of... something... on the girl's face.
“Then the hunter with you... You are Julius... Belmont?” Sabrina inquired directly to the man himself, wearing an expression that said she already assumed she was correct. That made way more sense to Yoko, however. Julius' family was famous and Julius himself was famous famous.
“Yes, I am Julius Belmont.” Jules confirmed without any bravado.
Sabrina closed her eyes and after a long silent moment, laughed softly. “Belnades and Belmont. The Church's best and most bootlicking lapdogs. I really am in the deepest shit, aren't I?”
It was a rhetorical question that neither Arcane Specialist nor Investigative Hunter deigned to answer. They simply left her to her task, closing the door gently behind them. Yoko was happy to find Hambone waiting patiently outside in the formerly abandoned chair the Vampyre had cradled his hot messes in earlier. He must not have wanted to step inside and mess up their interrogation process with the interruption. It was cold as fuck outside, so Yoko gave a wave to the hot coffee in Jules' hands that Hammer was more than pleased to take.
“All finished?” The army vet hedged. “Didn't seem that long.”
“Oh she's going to get the third degree from the task force who picks her up. I just wanted to know if she could tell me anything about Trevor specifically. She couldn't.” Julius stated with palpable annoyance in his tone. “I was hoping to give all the pieces to Liza with some neat and tidy red-string around them to clear up the picture. I didn't want to dump this mess on her and then also have to explain the Trevor Belmont factor without knowing how exactly it fits in here.”
“But we do know?” Yoko tilted her head in confusion. “He is their sacrifice.”
“Sabrina the Teen-aged Witch in there said the catalyst could only activate if the sacrifice was a willing participant.” Julius reminded her pointedly. “That means that on top of telling Liza that the Demon Ambassador is on his deathbed over this thing we hid from her thinking it would be a simple favour to clean up with Alucard, while on Church dime... I have to tell her his long-lost loverboy – who I can't explain still being alive at this moment – is a suspected willing participant to this whole fucking mess. We are going to have to interrogate Grandpa, Yoko, before the Church appoints someone else to do the job. You know that's not going to go over well as much as I do. Trevor isn't going to talk to a stranger, and he's not going to remain neutral if they try to take him in. We've all seen it. When he gets pushed he pushes back harder. Our new-found family member is potentially going to murder some of our colleagues. That's if Alucard doesn't live. Because if they try to take him in with Alucard around, the Demon Prince is going to be the one in international hot water after he slaughters our colleagues..”
Okay... so she hadn't exactly put two and two together yet. Julius was right... If the little witch was speaking the truth, then by her account Trevor had to have agreed to get on that table. Trevor had to have agreed to help this Estefania – who now that she was remembering with perfect recall – had reached out towards him and asked him if he was going to come with her last night. Estefania and Arden had let him walk through their defences without batting an eye. But there had to be a rational reason that would explain it. Perhaps he had been tricked? Brainwashed? Trevor insisted he didn't remember anything of note after getting stabbed by a Devil Forgemaster named Isaac six hundred years ago. He didn't seem to have recognized the High Priestess or Arden, although Yoko had been pretty much too preoccupied to watch him every minute while trying to break through the annoyingly efficient ancient demon's inky wings.
“He doesn't remember anything after the stab from six hundred years ago. Aside from being held in the dark and cut up a lot.” Yoko restated the facts they knew firmly. “I don't think Trevor is lying about that.”
“I don't think so either.” Julius replied easily, but his hard tone remained as he twisted the knife. “But not remembering you did something doesn't mean you didn't do it. Consent to it. Agree with it. I don't think that terrified little girl is lying either, Yoko.”
“Trevor Belmont was the first Belmont to put Dracula and his Castle in the ground for a time-out. He lost a wife and unborn baby to it. He hauled ass across Europe to do the deed. Why would Trevor willingly turn around and agree to help get some random witch the keys to the Castle?”
Julius lifted a finger in a little 'Ah-ha' and Yoko's stomach dropped. She'd asked the exact question Julius had already settled on being the most important to get to the bottom of. “Yes, precisely. Why would Trevor give a random witch his life?” When Yoko didn't answer fast enough, Julius forged onward. “Because Estefania must not be a random witch to Trevor Belmont. She means something to him. Or she did until the ritual fucked up on account of us crashing it. What did little Sabrina in there say the price-paid needed to be?”
“Altruistic death of self.” Yoko replied with hesitancy.
“Do you remember what the price-paid was for the ritual Alucard and I performed to sever the Castle and the Crimson Stone from Dracula?”
“It was... Your memories.” Apparently her stomach still had a ways it could drop, and it did.
“I thought I was going to die fulfilling my family's purpose. The ritual implied a death of self would be required. I willingly accepted that I was going to have to die to finally put Dracula out of our collective misery. It turned out that not remembering who I was was a death of myself. I am not at all the same man I was before I participated in that ritual per everyone who knew me prior and to this day.”
“Trevor remembers who he is though... He remembers everything up to the stabbing.”
“We interrupted the ritual, Yoko.”
“Do you think... He agreed to help because he knew he wasn't going to die or something? But you didn't need to pour all your blood out to sever the stones from Dracula? Trevor was bled dry. Jules, I'm so fucking confused right now, just tell me plainly what you think you've caught on to, please?”
“All right.” The elder hunter obliged, speaking in a clear measured tone so that she could follow along with ease. “Accepting that we do not yet know why Grandpa is alive still... Estefania doesn't look old enough to have been scheming this little scheme since thirty-seven years ago. I would hazard the guess that whatever secret to her longevity... is something Trevor shares or has been shared with by her. Maybe the spell seal on him you and Hammer found. We don't know.”
“Okay...”
“She's been planning this since the Demon Wars per Sabrina. That would mean that for at least thirty-seven years, Estefania and Trevor have been known to each other. Maybe longer. Maybe... six hundred years longer. Again, we don't know how he's still alive today. You said she and her pet let him through their barriers last night. That had to be because they thought he was on their side, right?”
“...Right.”
“Right. So thirty-seven or more years is more than enough time to convince a person what you are doing is the right thing. Perhaps the only thing that is right. I am willing to entertain the idea and hope that Trevor was just indoctrinated like Sabrina and these other new recruits were starting to be. It's possible he did willingly submit to her ritual because he thought it was the correct course of action for whatever reasons she's been feeding him for years. The price-paid was the altruistic death of self. Perhaps his memories were what would tear the veil, but his life was what would tether the Castle? The ritual I partook in to sever it sounds quite similar to this one, right? I'm not an Arcane Specialist, so I don't know and won't say for sure. I think we were just very lucky to have crashed their party in the nick of time, is all.”
“You think she just wore him down and talked him into it.” It wasn't out of the realm of possibility. That legitimately was how cults worked. Cut you off from the outside, love-bombed you, kept you focused on a cause, and wore you down until you were too integrated to resist. But it seemed hard to accept that Trevor had succumbed to such a tactic... Then again... A cult could convert people from all walks of life. Nobody was a hundred percent immune. “Maybe... I am more comfortable with the idea of him being a victim than an active participant.”
“High Priestess Estefania is very attractive and seems to be using a powerful Desire demon to help her be the most persuasive she can be. Trevor is a man, Yoko, and we men are often very weak to certain kinds of persuasions. As awful as it sounds, it is definitely better than him being ring-master number five.”
“But it doesn't work on Belmonts.”
Jules' eyes twinkled as he curtly shot back. “Unless we want it to.” Fixing her with a serious look, he explained matter of factually. “Whatever method she's currently employing, it makes even me want to let it work. All it would take was a momentary weakness, and without something else to focus on, coming back up from under the spell would be next to impossible. So it's possible that's how she convinced him to help.”
“What a fucking mess, Jules.” What else could she say. “I don't feel like the good guy here. I get it, what these women want. I don't think I should need this licence I have in my wallet to be the Yoko Belnades I was born to be. I really don't anymore. I get it for my kind of job, I should be tested and certified. You don't give a welder their tools and just wish them the best of luck either. But just to live your life working in a coffee shop or a book store? I don't think it's right.”
“It's not.” Julius agreed so readily that Yoko lost her steam. “That is what makes this so hard. It's why Alucard didn't want it to escalate to this degree. Every time somebody does some stupid shit like this in the name of Arcane Rights it sets the movement back a decade or more. Did you know the Netherlands were voting in the new year on abolishing the mandatory requirements for natural born arcanists to identify as such on their documents? Guess how well that's going to go now.”
Yoko hadn't known. Hell, prior to this whole affair, she hadn't even really questioned her own life choices and stance. It was just how things went. It was normal. None of her friends and cousins ever felt any ill-will about their licence exams. It was a cause for celebration when they passed, after all. But she was a Belnades. They were all Aulins and Renards. They were... Church pets. Sabrina's comment was not the first time she'd heard her family referred to in such a derogatory term. They were 'traitors'. Losing all energy and with very little left to fight it off, Yoko gave in and just slipped right into Hammer's lap. He was done his coffee by that point, so she wasn't going to be in the way. His arms wrapping around her was exactly what she needed.
“What do we do with Sabrina now, Jules?” She asked with her eyes closing. Hammer was rubbing her back and she really needed that soothing touch too, it seemed.
“I'm going to make some calls to HQ to arrange a pick-up. I'll need to ask you to help with transport of the girl unless you want some church officials to know where your base of operations at current is, Hammer.”
“No problem, Jules. You know I got you.” A rumble came from the chest Yoko was leaning against.
“Thanks again, Hammer. Once I arrange that, I am going to call Liza and give her the run-down myself. I will accept responsibility for dragging my subordinate along with this, and whatever fallout comes down from on high.”
“That's not necessary. I am a willing participant in this.” Yoko insisted, eyes still closed. “If she fires me I'll at least get severance pay while I sort my shit out.” Half-jokes aside, she forced her eyes open to catch Julius before he had completely walked out of earshot to make his phonecalls. “Just so I am clear on what's being divulged... You are going to tell her Trevor is Trevor Belmont, right? Are you going to tell her about how my mother and sister and I are also Belmonts?” Julius nodded, and Yoko found she was okay with that. It gave poor swept under the rug from history Sypha Belnades her proper due, even if she had to be attached to a man in order to get it. One societal problem at a time, right? “Liza's going to want to do genetic testing to verify. Even if we interrogate Grandpa ourselves so a stranger doesn't suffer the wrath of a belligerent Trevor Belmont, she's going to want him to submit to all kinds of medical tests.”
“One problem at a time, Yoko.” Julius echoed her thoughts back. “We're going to be fine. He is going to be fine. Alucard... I feel like he's also going to be fine. Once all the big guns are out looking for this coven, we'll have this whole affair settled and be back at home with our feet up sipping cocktails. Maybe on unpaid leave as punishment, but vacation is vacation, right?”
Yoko shrugged, accepting his optimism as fact. “Heart of fire, yeah?”
“Heart of fire.” Julius agreed
Notes:
A tiny chapter for once!
Chapter 41: The Reunion
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward
With certainty, the pair of them were getting that Cabin Fever thing, to borrow a freshly learned term. Food was starting to consist more and more of 'take-away' as the reserve in the home was significantly diminished. The Vampyre seemingly would not consider any solution to restock, as the options were the self appointed caretaker leaving either the recovering Dhampyre alone to mind him, or sending him out to complete the errand alone. Leaving both wounded Dhampyre and newest pupil alone for an hour also seemed entirely out of the question, and to be honest, that lack of faith in his ability to not get murdered or taken hostage for a grocery run's length of time kind of stung. It was hard to argue his case as a mute though.
So there was no break for either of them. Just that looming stasis in a space void of stimulation.
Thankfully, what seemed a silly game when first proposed had in fact been a well disguised training regimen with bountiful gains in such a short time. Compliments aside that the swift progress was because of innate talents and sensitivity to this new way of sensing the world around them, his strange new mentor of many strange new things was genuinely pleased by his efforts. Extremely pleased by how seriously he took constructive criticism and guidance to heart, making an concerted effort as opposed to just falling back on natural born talent for the current task at hand. The boredom relief granted by this novel training was simply a bonus. Game still in play with mind and body projected outwardly in another room, feeling about as he searched for his target, his blue-grey eyes creaked open unfocused. The mostly barren room hardly registered. Just an open space that once held Adrian's things. Not much was left now at all. The desk and chair. The sarcophagus. The couch and table. Piano and two violins. A tall floor lamp. Oh, and the nude headless statue that with the removal of everything else in the room, he found his eyes kept coming back to again and again. Even in this meditative state, removed from his physical body, the unfocused gaze upon the statue threatened to break him of his practice.
Close your eyes and focus beyond as you've told, you nitwit. He scolded himself. The statue was going to be there to glare at later. It was waiting for Adrian to awaken and pack up, as it was a prized possession Joachim refused to risk damaging. Vague darkness registered, his physical body obeying the command of something beyond it's scope and reach, as eyelids slid shut.
This game had taught him that even objects possessed an aura. Dull and mostly inert, but identifiable with practice. With time he was promised he would be able to see them no differently then he could with his own two eyes, but for now there were just a few vague attributes he could pick up. Metal. Wood. Plant. Not the type or the shape or anything helpful like that. Just that what he was in contact with was of a particular element, and so far only more naturally occurring ones. He couldn't 'see' plastic for all his effort into trying, so far. However, what he could 'see' very well now with this newly developing talent was exactly the endgoal of the game. A goal post he achieved, latching on to the familiar essence and feeling the elated pride in his teacher's aura feed back along his grasp.
The renewed connection was both deeply satisfying from a personal success perspective, and a bit of a relief on a private, intimate one. That, as the days drew on he'd realized he was finding himself more and more comforted by this strengthening connection, was completely normal and not of concern, he was also taught. It was as expected to be growing more used to the constant presence just out of his mind's eyesight. A pet found reassurance and stability in it's Master's proximity, after all. Not an analogy he was particularly fond of, but if his understanding of the situation he now found himself within the confines of was accurate... Well. An analogy not too far off the mark, in the end. Of course it was all the touching that was at fault. Emotions resonating back and forth to the point words were practically unnecessary for basic communication. Trevor was a model student, he'd been told, being both tenacious and receptive. Hunter and Vampyre were attuned now to one another in a way he and Adrian were not, because Adrian – according to the elder Moroi – was absolutely awful at this. Adrian was due for some lessons as well. Once he was better.
Once you are better... Which is soon, I hope. There are only so many hours I can stand practising that damned violin by your coffin and I believe I have almost reached my limit there. Caving to this fragile sentimental truth, he admitted with a long internal sigh. And I miss you. Even though I can feel you now thanks to all this practice and these games, it's not how I want to touch you. I want to feel you in my arms.
“I do have one concern for you to work upon.”
The liquid silver purr in a soft velvety tone may have well as been shrieked in his ear going by his startled reaction to it. His essence was still in the other room, coiled safely around and within Joachim's, yet his physical body jumped up off the couch and into the Vampyre's arms much to the great demon's even greater amusement, juxtaposing Trevor's deep shame at being caught so unaware. The knife in his hand was sheathed sheepishly under the silver gaze smiling down at him, and he waited with his head lowered and eyes downcast on the floor for the next correction or flaw he was going to be told to work on.
“Tell me, Little One, when you are reading a book under a tree and a insect crawls on you, you are aware?” He nodded and Joachim continued. “When you are writing in your journal you are aware of sudden movements, noises or scents?” Yes, of course he was. Everyone had peripheral vision and the ability to tune out and tune back in when required. Trevor would go so far as to say two-thirds of his time spent raising his sons had been by catching them doing something they knew better then to do while they thought their father otherwise occupied. “This is no different, Belle Lapin. You cannot have all your focus beyond and not keep an eye on your surroundings. We will start to work on splitting your concentration between the tendrils beyond and your actual flesh and blood. I will also start to have you search for things that are not so familiar as I am to you now.”
Trevor nodded again, as it made perfect sense. Under any other circumstance there was no way Joachim would have been able to get this close without him first realizing. It had to have been because he could not yet fathom being in two places at once, spectrally or not. There was a lot more mental, physical, and metaphysical work to be done before he could use this new tool in any useful capacity. More determined then ever, he made as if to sit back down to continue, but the Vampyre's grip on his arms held firm, silver locks of hair shimmering in the lamplight as a head shook side to side.
“That is enough for today. It may not seem like you are exerting any kind of perceptible effort, but I assure you, you are. And you are exhausted. Any further practice this eve will only waste our time.”
The Vampyre was right. He didn't exactly feel like he had been slaying Hellspawn all night. It was actually a little frustrating to be told he needed to rest when he wanted to continue. They had been through this already. Trevor Belmont did not do rest. He could not be still. When Joachim deemed his body at some limit only the demon could see, the anxiety and restlessness held at bay by the focused study was loosed like a stallion kept stabled all day. They were back from action to inaction. Just two men in a small enclosed space, void of distractions save one another, and Trevor was finding it dangerous that he was this distracted. He was taking a lot of long lonely showers in effort to curb that, but it was a relief that was only briefly granted. To hide the blush brought on by that thought he turned his head... And found himself staring at the damned naked statue with it's marble captured dancer's physique.
I used to have a body just like that. The whining, petulant, and stinging jealous thought came unbidden. He'd been strong and while always lean, never considered bony. Artists were always coming out of the woodwork when court appearances mandated he partake to ask him to model for this and that when he'd looked like this damned statue. It had been an annoyance long ago. Strictly a financial exchange with his family's well-being in mind. How stupid and vain of him to now be jealous of a piece of carved stone. Estée used to get mad my backside filled out her chemise better than her own did. Not that it was just that. There was more than vanity to the disdain as well. Hell, I remember when I could sit on anything and not have my bones dig into me uncomfortably. Now I can only sit on soft things for any extended period of time. What a joke I have become. Trevor Christopher Belmont, Vampyre Hunter, felled by hard benches and kitchen stools! Now fully agitated, he broke free of Joachim's grip to step over towards the desk and snatch Adrian's suit jacket from over the chair. Garment in hand, he wrapped the nude statue in it and buttoned up the coat for good measure. There. Mock me with your enviable body now, you dumb rock.
“Be careful with that. I am not certain even you would be safe from Kitten's wrath if you damage his statue.” Joachim warned, but Trevor scoffed audibly, much to both their surprise. The Vampyre breezed by the occurrence without calling any attention to it, and Trevor was once again reminded how grateful he was that the one person he was trapped in Limbo with at least seemed to accept him how he was without qualms. “Emotional sensitivity and an easy temper are signs of mental fatigue.” The Vampyre continued, lecturing gently. “That is why we are taking a break for the rest of the evening, you can see.”
Fine. This makes sense as well. Being jealous of a statue is not exactly normal or rational behaviour, I suppose. But what am I going to do the rest of the night? I can't sit still and I already had my shower break. Taking another one would just be too obvious. It's not like he wasn't sure Joachim hadn't already caught on to why he spent so much time under the hot water. The Vampyre was just being polite, filing it under the many quirks of Trevor's that the demon accepted without question.
He must have looked a right sight of morose for the Vampyre was making a soothing noise when he reached out to pull him back away from the prized piece of art in Adrian's barren study. “Your mind is fatigued but not your body. Perhaps we could spend some time tiring that out instead?” While it certainly sounded like the opening to exactly the kind of lascivious offer a Desire demon would make, the feedback from their touch gave nothing of that sort back from the Vampyre. It seemed to be a genuine suggestion, so Trevor waited expectantly for the proposition. “A little exercise to help get you back in fighting form is just what I believe you need, Little One.” Once Trevor made it clear he was interested in this line of thinking, the Vampyre held out a hand. Like smoke or fog converging, a ghostly sword formed in Joachim's upturned hand. This he gave to Trevor, chuckling softly at how tentatively the Hunter reached out to grip the handle.
The sensation was odd on multiple levels. Joachim was in front of him, one hand placed on his shoulder because it was more normal to touch than abstain at this point. Yet Joachim was also in his hand. The ghostly weapon was neither hot nor cold. Hard nor soft. It just... was the Vampyre. It was living. There was a soft pulse to the energy that responded what seemed to be positively when he tested a few swings. The shape was of a long blade, and while not quite up to Adrian's preferred size and style, certainly more sword than Trevor was used to handling. He watched as another blade, this one more ornate in shape and with a basket-weaved hilt materialized in the demon's spare hand, and finally understood what Joachim had in mind for the suggested bit of exercise. The thought of this new game pulled at his lips until they were in a semblance of a smile, which pleased the Vampyre considerably.
“Have you ever used a sword before?” The inquiry was not made with any disrespect intended. Trevor had the feeling that Joachim would match whatever level of proficiency he had without issue, seeing this as yet another opportunity to share his interests with the Hunter, and teach Trevor a new trick or two. When he indicated he'd only had a little basic training, the Vampyre considered his admission for a moment before both their spectral blades shrunk into basic standard issue short swords. It was actually nearly an exact replica of the kind of blade Trevor had been instructed with hundreds of years ago. “I see these are more to your liking.” Comment made without waiting for an answer, Trevor found himself pulled out of the office and into the empty space formally known as the living room for a refreshing lesson on sword basics. “You have acceptable form and handling, and power behind your swings. That's a good start.”
With only a few more practised manoeuvres and a test of his parrying abilities, the lighthearted sparring session began. While the blade had no weight to it due to being a creation of Vampyre magick, the growing speed and intensity as lighthearted fun grew into one-upmanship eventually had his breath starting to quicken, and a burn growing in his cooped up muscles. He started to slip a few Sonia specials into his swordplay. While his mother had never picked up a sword as her first weapon given the choice, her work had mandated a blade's use more than once by various circumstances. Her unique approach and creative utility of a standard weapon seemed to throw the regimented and rule-bound demon off, forcing him to break out of 'proper' practice in order to combat the novel strikes and slashes coming his way. Joachim was starting to laugh with every close call, but Trevor was convinced the Vampyre was not exactly trying any harder than required then just to keep the blade away. Only ramping up his response and counterattacks as Trevor revealed the extent of his swordplay to meet them equally and keep him engaged and interested. It was a game, after all. Trevor was not insulted by that in the slightest. He was grateful. This was fun. Anxious energy and forlorn introspection burned up as fuel for the dynamic engagement. The ever-present urge to collapse and weep staved off by action. His battered and chewed up lower lip would be thankful for that much alone.
Their new game had them flipping over the freshly made bed, chasing one another through the kitchen, stools used as shields or gladiator nets. At some point the scuffle clashed before Adrian's sarcophagus, requiring a small break in order for Joachim to assure the resting Dhampyre inside that all was well and in good fun. No, they were not out here earnestly trying to kill each other. Adrian's energy calming back down, the fight resumed once more out in the living room, blades meeting again and again as the human combatant started to grow a little tired, and thus closed in to stop wasting so much energy running around the swift Vampyre. There was something about the way Joachim was looking at him right in that moment while they sparred that gave Trevor the impression the mighty demon was perhaps marginally distracted in his own right.
Good. The Hunter mused internally. It was hardly fair to be the only one suffering and conflicted, and he could use the distraction to his advantage in this little game. With a smirk he parried deftly, using the backstep and following sidestep to roll his torso, neck and head in that well practised manner, if only in the reverse direction. Adrian preferred his left side, so Joachim fed from the right. This was the clean line of flesh his now left-side swept hair bared. The mark the Vampyre had left high up on the right side of his throat now exposed, drew the eyes of the one who had so dominantly placed it there. They have more than a few similarities, these demons I am entwined with. Trevor's grin widened as he took in how fixated Joachim had become on the bite mark. Adrian too loved to see his handiwork on Trevor's body. The Dhampyre's ego was fed by seeing his claims all over Trevor's intimate places, because Adrian knew that Trevor liked to let Adrian do it. Joachim's ego was more tamed and constrained by self-preservation... but still overly inflated just as Adrian's was. And while he was not a slave to it as much as his Dhampyre was, the Vampyre was in this exact moment, utterly under it's influence.
The spectral sword flicked with his wrist, sliding around the distracted demon's thrust to plunge his own ghostly blade deep into his opponent's guts. As suspected, the weapon made of Joachim's energy did not harm the one whom it stemmed from.
The unorthodox swordplay aside, valid defeat pulled a rich chuckle out of the demon who closed a hand down on his own, holding it and the blade in place. “Let's see here. You have my kidney, my gallbladder and my upper intestines.” The Vampyre spoke with mirth still painting his tone. “If we were out on a battlefield I might not make it back home were I only human and this a real stabbing.”
Without breaking eye contact Trevor's strength was enough to pull out from under the demon's hand and twisting the blade, he proceeded to mock disembowel the other man. This Joachim found incredibly hilarious.
“You've killed me with my own sword!” He chortled. “Now you're wading through my innards like they are a field of flowers, you sadistic monster.”
The wide open grin worn on his pale visage only broadened when Trevor made a second – if barely audible – noise for the evening. The Hunter was giggling softly, much to both their surprise, as before. Again, the demon called no attention directly to the sudden departure from wilful silence, leaving Trevor impossibly grateful that no matter what he did or didn't do, say or didn't say, Joachim just rolled with it. There was no pressure or expectation on him at all in this regard. Trevor let the Vampyre tilt his head up with a curled finger under his chin to better examine the demon's little understudy. When the Vampyre was satisfied with whatever he saw, he leaned over in that familiar fashion Trevor had instinctively responded to in a positive fashion the second time they'd encountered one another. Like that night, when the dipping forehead rested against his hairline, Trevor met the embrace amicably. Lifting onto the tips of his toes to slide into more or less a nuzzle, his non-existent fangs turned safely away from throat-tearing distance.
A demon kiss. That was his understanding of it, anyway. Although it wasn't exactly the romantic kind of kiss shared between human lovers. Although, perhaps it could be in the correct context. Seems to be more of a trust thing. Intimacy for intimacy's sake. Joachim would probably just call it some Pure True Love, or whatever. And maybe that was what the little act was supposed to represent or be short-hand for. It did feel... nice. To be connected like this... With a demon. It felt natural. What that said about him or his proclivities was a puzzle for another day.
“This is the most affectionate disembowelling I've ever experienced.” The Vampyre joked to which Trevor responded by sliding the ghost sword up and out of the chest before him, breaking their little fond demon display in the process. Joachim found this quite jovial as well. “Not content to spill my guts alone, you've now just vivisected me.” Rich tone dripped from a bloodless mouth, while humour reflected in twinkling silver irises. “Absolutely savage. Spare a shred of decorum and quit flirting for a moment with me, Trevor. Your children have come to pay you a visit.”
Flirting...? He quirked his head pondering, almost positive he had heard the term before when the rest of the Vampyre's comment struck him. My children..? They have passed on. My... grandchildren, maybe? Still trying to puzzle out where he'd heard that word 'Flirt' before and in what context, Trevor watched the spectral sword wink out of existence and followed Joachim with his eyes as the demon made to return to the office. Only to do a double-take when he saw the pair of dearly missed faces he had been longing to see again hovering by the entrance-way. My grandchildren!
There wasn't even a moment to spared for embarrassment or shame about being caught in what must have looked to be a compromising position once he laid eyes on them. Once more in awe of such beautiful, wonderful people, he threw an arm around each one and pulled them close. That made it twice today he'd been caught unaware of his surroundings, and both times because he was too focused on a Vampyre. Finally, with that thought now crept up, there was crimson felt staining his cheeks, although there wasn't necessarily a valid reason to feel embarrassed. It hadn't been a shameful secret act or anything like that he'd been engaged in. It wasn't what it looked like either. Just demon affection. Demon customs. No different then a human embrace between friends and family.
I am just ashamed that I am losing my edge, that's all. Getting snuck up on twice in the same evening, of all things.
Definitely it was that.
“I missed you too.” Julius' chest rumbled in his tight grip, which caused Trevor to ease up on them both, suddenly recalling that each of his grandchildren had been injured in some way saving Adrian. “You look good, Trevor.” Julius remarked after a moment of quiet study. “Healthy.”
The comment made him consciously pull his hair more around the front on the right side, in an attempt to better obscure the newest bite mark on his flesh. The attempt exposed an older fading one made by Adrian during that night he'd knowingly betrayed Sypha so that they could make love proper. It would be hard to bite him from that angle and not leave a visible mark, the Dhampyre had warned, and he had consented anyway. Obviously Yoko and Julius had to assumed in this six months time he'd been giving Adrian his blood to feed upon, but it didn't change the fact that for all his life, showing the mark of a Vampyre publicly was as much a death sentence as one handed down by the Crown. Even without the pair aware of the context surrounding the fading bite, Trevor still knew the mark had been made in the throes of passion. A passion of a fashion deemed unacceptable for a whole host of reasons ingrained during his upbringing, which Trevor was discovering he hardly cared for.. His face heated again at the memory of that night, and everything he had willingly submit to out desire.
Resolved to take ownership of his actions or not, and all though it should not matter who he was consenting to be fed upon by nor how often, it seemed a better choice to let these hunters see Adrian's brand. Another thing to add to the self-reflection pile for later, he supposed.
“Jules you're making him self-conscious.” Yoko scolded, assuming his flushed features were the result of the older man's comment. “You do look good though, Gramps. Like you could slay a couple of Vampyres and not break a sweat. You look like what I had imagined when I heard the name Trevor Belmont for the first time in history class.” With her own momentary hum as she studied him in full, the mage's face perked back into life and cheer just as one of her tapered fingers poked around his mid-section. “I can't feel your ribs anymore. This is Señor Creepy's handiwork?” She made a thoughtful noise when he nodded. “Are you sure he's not fattening you up to make a roast out of you? I'd be suspicious.”
With a smile pulled free, he pulled the lovely woman's head in to kiss the crown of her hair. How he'd missed them both terribly during this stasis. Her comment about his newly padded rib bones had him reaching out to place a hand against her own instinctively, feeling an entirely different form of padding than mentioned. She waved off his concerned look, explaining that she had been to the hospital and all was well. Even hiking up her shirt to show him the clean bandages. This prompted Julius to show him the fresh scars trailing his own torso, that while still purple and shiny, had healed over well.
They are all right... The relief almost took the strength out of his legs. Yoko reached out quickly to stabilize him, but he was too shocked by the intense physical response to remember to flush with embarrassment. Concern for their well-being had been such a large mental load to bear, being only able to wonder and hope their injuries and the matter of the little witch they'd apprehended had all been attended to. That they too were safe and recovering. At last, he could put those worries to rest.
The little witch... Trevor's smile faltered as his focus settled upon her. The little girl who had been keeping company with the Coven that nearly killed Adrian, and that had been taken into their custody. The Coven Trevor had purportedly been slated to be sacrificed by when they'd found him. Whatever the little witch had confessed to his grandchildren they would of course now want to speak to Adrian and even himself about. It had to be why they were here now, right? His relief and elation sunk straight into the mire in his guts. He wasn't ready yet to admit what he was suspecting. I... I don't want to talk about this right now. Panic was starting to settle in the more he wallowed in the idea of having this imminent conversation. I need to talk to Adrian first. Please just wait until he awakens and I can... I can...
“Come give me a hand a for a minute, Little One.” The Vampyre requested from the threshold of the office. To most he wore an apparent neutral look, but to the eyes of someone who had spent so much time entwined with the demon, well...
Trevor knew Joachim was responding to his apprehension. Giving him the escape he desperately wanted, even though the source of his anxiety was his own dearly missed flesh and blood. He took the opportunity presented to break away from the smiling faces with the suspicious glints in their eyes at his sudden reaction, motioning them to follow as both an apology and to hopefully keep their inquisitive minds engaged elsewhere.
“Wow, this place is pretty cleaned out.” Yoko whistled, the sound echoing off the walls with no furniture of fabric to absorb it. “I guess Al is heading back home after all this?”
“Kitten and his Bunny do not have a say in the matter this time, I am afraid.” Joachim answered for all three of them. “Kitten has not been making sound decisions for a while and it is high time he is dragged back home to be cared for properly.” Continuing to share in an absent-minded fashion as the demon settled himself before Adrian's sarcophagus, he added. “The last time the dumb halfbreed took some time off his work, was the mid-sixties. I suppose not even Kitten could keep his pants on during the free love counterculture movement. There may have been a bit of Disco-fever involved too. And cocaine.” The Vampyre made a thoughtful noise and reaffirmed to seemingly no one but himself. “That boy sure did love his cocaine back then. Like his opium phase all over again.”
“There is always so much to unpack with you.” Julius remarked also seemingly to no one but himself.
Trevor made a mental note to look up both flirting and cocaine in a quiet moment later and came to Joachim's side dutifully, ready to assist however he could. Laid upon the desk within easy reach was the freshly emptied waste bin, a dampened washcloth hung over the side of it. The Vampyre's metal harness and leather coat had been resting there already for days. With nothing else of note to clue him in, the Hunter folded his arms and simply waited for the Vampyre to get on with whatever he'd been summoned for. Hushed mechanical clicking, like small clockwork gears to Trevor's ears, grew into a small symphony as the ornately carved lid of Adrian's resting place was lifted and pulled aside. Moist black earth, now exposed, almost glittered in the lamplight and humid warmth of the office space. Once more only the sounds of the space heater hummed in the air as everything stilled.
Yoko and Julius wore identical expressions of curiosity that Trevor felt he too must be mirroring. All three drawn in closer to the display of earth but not a one reaching out towards it. Joachim unhurriedly rolling up the sleeves of his simple black shirt drew their collective eyes, all three in attendance watching as the demon's exposed forearm plunged deep into the soil. Putting practice into practical use, Trevor tried with relative success to watch the flow of essence from Joachim work through the particles of earth just as surely as his wriggling fingers were, both flesh and energy grasping the dormant low waves and still body of what Trevor could easily recognize as Adrian. The low wave rippled, responding to the touch immediately, and the strength of the aura's heat climbed higher. In his peripheral vision he could see Yoko was now smiling. The surge of energy a positive thing in her eyes, so Trevor allowed himself to feel hopeful as well. Yoko was a mage, after all. If she thought it a good sign, it had to be, right?
Joachim seemed pensive, however. Not in an overly concerned fashion, just as if – and Trevor was really just speculating based on his endless days spent studying the Vampyre and his mannerisms – but just as if the Vampyre was not expecting such good signs so soon or something. Like Adrian was coming back from the brink more swiftly than expected, and the elder demon was trying to puzzle out the how and why. Not displeased by it, but curious in his own right. His hand pulled free of the dirt grasping the Dhampyre's wrist, pulling the arm from elbow down out into the open air for all to see. It was an unpleasant sight for sure, mottled marbling not unlike a corpse's flesh blooming beneath the blackened scabs and scarred burns. The whole arm seemed slightly bloated, gelatinous strings of decaying flesh tearing free as the forearm was turned for study by the Vampyre.
“Oh wow, that's pretty gnarly.” Yoko commented, covering her mouth partially as colour drained from her face. 'Gnarly' must be a term for something foul, Trevor surmised, because that's what Adrian's arm looked like to him. Something foul.
“Recovering from fire or fresh water is rarely a pleasant or beautiful process for our kind. I apologize if it offends your fragile senses, girl.” Joachim replied absently, instead focused on sliding his clawed nails beneath the bloated flesh and tearing deliberately. “Relax.” He commanded of Trevor, who upon being spoken to only then realized he'd grasped onto Joachim to pull the demon away. “I am not cutting him open, I am cutting him free. See here?” Claws circled the flesh just under the elbow, and with a well executed motion, the Vampyre more or less degloved the Dhampyre in one perfect tug. “Hah, I still got it. I can skin a whole human in only three motions, you know.”
Ignoring the questionably horrific boast for now, Trevor found his own face partially covered by his free hand, looking out at the newly refreshed alabaster skin waiting below the rotten mess. He hardly registered the wet sound of the bloated mound of flesh hitting the base of the waste bin, so focused as he was on the damp cloth wiping away the reddish slimy residue. What had been blackened strips of charred flesh before sliding beneath the soil weeks earlier were now only maroon tinted impressions. The peeling and flaking burns were non-existent. Just smooth white skin everywhere but where holy silver had branded Adrian. Such a remarkable recovery from the ravaged thing that had been put to rest.
“...Adrian.” His whisper quiet voice shocked his grandchildren. Shocked himself as well, to be honest.
As expected, the Vampyre gave the outburst no heed. “Here, this what I needed you for.” Joachim explained, using the hand curled around his waist he'd not felt this entire time until now, to push him towards the sarcophagus. He was instructed to hold Adrian's hand, a command he wasted no time following. “I wanted to check on his progress, not fully wake him, you see. But since he knows you are around, Little One, he will rouse unless he knows you are all right. Consider this a bonus lesson for the eve, and show the halfbreed that you have been a tremendously well kept pet, just as I have taught you. Put his mind at ease. You will find it more difficult a task than with I, but I feel you're ready to get through to him. I am going to burn the contents of this trash can outside, and it is your job to keep him calm while I am away. Understood?”
It was understood. Trevor used both hands to close around Adrian's, gasping when the still limb twitched into life between them. Stiff fingers butted up and slid along his own until Trevor realized what Adrian wanted, obliging the Dhampyre's desire by lacing their fingers together while his other hand slid down to caress along the tendons of the wrist and forearm below. Such a simple connection... Just to touch him... Trevor had wished for the moment when he could touch Adrian again ever since the Dhampyre had been laid to rest and recover. They were so close now. So close to looking at one another. So close to Trevor hearing that deep voice explaining to him how random things worked, sharing historical or geographical factoids without being asked, and freely giving him compliments for anything under the sun. And if he had his way, closer still to hearing that rich baritone growl and moan his name between the sheets of a mostly empty bedroom.
Following Adrian's gentle urging, he unlaced their fingers and leaned closer so that the Dhampyre could slide a still stiff moving hand up, cupping the side of his face. He laid his own over Adrian's and closed his eyes, simply enjoying the heat of the palm against his cheek. It was about then he remembered he had 'homework' as Joachim liked to call it. As he had earlier, his senses left the physical body behind. It was easier to follow Adrian's down into the earth, skirting along his beloved's flesh to find a chink in his aura to pull at. Let me in. His own demanded of the dormant being below. It was clumsy and not at all like the succinct syncing that occurred with the Vampyre. Adrian was too stiff metaphysically where he should be malleable and receptive, and too limp and impossible to grasp where he should be strong and firm. Trevor could get only the vaguest impressions from the incomplete and intermittent connection. But Adrian was happy. His elation came through strongly even on broken lines of communication. Trevor hoped the Dhampyre had enough sense and skill to understand that so was he.
So close... His eyes stung as tears threatened to fall again, building up against the backs of his closed eyelids. Just a little longer was all that was required. He just couldn't cry yet. Not yet. So his ravaged lower lip took another hard bite to distract. He tasted blood and felt a trickle down the front of his chin.
“You need to stop doing that.” A rich voice chastened. Joachim was back at his side with a familiar hand already back in place around his waist.
Yoko too was by his other side, patting at his face with a white tissue. “Yeah, sweetie, you got, uhh, a little something right there...” Once she had wiped enough of the blood away, the mage's eyes returned to the pale arm sticking out of the dirt. “Can I..?”
Trevor gave Adrian's hand a squeeze and then stepped aside to let Yoko take it in her tiny bandaged palms. Of course, seeing how the only place to step had been closer to Joachim, he now stood within the full circle of the Vampyre's curled arms, keenly aware of Julius' unreadable and unfaltering gaze. What his grandson must think of him, shamelessly pressing his body into the other demon for that sense of comfort Joachim provided even under such a watchful gaze. Maybe because of it, even. I am a weak man, Julius. I'm sorry I am not.
“I take it Alucard is going to live.” The elder hunter spoke at last, still watching. “You seemed doubtful he would pull through the last time I saw you.”
“I assure you, old man, I am just as surprised. I was not expecting much, let alone a miracle. I will insist Kitten tell me how he pulled off this recovery, rest assured. His power had actually been waning in recent years, contrary to all logic and precedence. He's been hiding something...”
“He feels vibrantly alive to me.” Yoko commented after a thoughtful hum. “Will he wake up soon?”
“I believe so. He seems capable even now of climbing free to tear an intruder to shreds. Which is perfect timing. With your arrival and Kitten's remarkable progress, I feel secure enough that we can leave the damned house for a spell finally.”
We..? Trevor barely cocked his head to the side before he was being pushed towards the office door. Yoko and Julius traded looks between themselves before stepping after to follow. Confused, the Hunter planted his feet firmly and refused to budge, meeting the Vampyre's mildly annoyed gaze with his own. Where the hell would we possibly go right now, with guests paying a visit, and without Adrian?
“Belle Lapin, this is the perfect and perhaps last chance for brief freedom while in this country. Do you know the last place I stayed inside of for any length of time was a prison in the basement waterways of Walter's bloody Castle? I don't stay in singular places. I don't like being confined!” Joachim pleaded with him when urging him along physically did not work. “Aren't you sick and tired of these same four walls, same as I?”
Of course I am! But Adrian... His eyes broke away from Joachim's silver to rest on the mechanisms closing Adrian's sarcophagus. It wasn't fair at all. He'd barely gotten to hold that hand...
“It is a child's duty to care for their parent. Your children will be more than satisfied to watch over Kitten for a few hours.” Joachim insisted, drawing his attention back. The demon had a hand on poor Yoko now, but loosely upon her shoulder and his claws were withdrawn as far as they could. “Tell him you are fine with babysitting Kitten for a spell, Yoko Belnades. I will owe you one.”
“In spite of how rude it is to walk out on your house guests, as well as how poopy it is to just see me as a means to an end, obviously I would be cool watching over my injured friend. I do gotta ask just where exactly is the fire, however?” Yoko replied in a guarded tone. “Why are you so antsy to leave your precious Kitten the second we showed up?”
“Pretty Rabbit, how is it that you are this strong?” Joachim murmured towards him when another urging push yielded no ground, before turning back to face the suspicious woman. “If you must know, Yoko Belnades, it is precisely because I trust you to keep Kitten safe. The highest form of flattery I can bestow upon you is this trust. Your grandfather needs a winter coat and boots. He needs some clothes that he's picked out for himself and not what is obviously to Kitten's taste. We need to restock some food to tide him over until we can all leave this country. Hell, as a bonus whatever you want, I promise to bring it back as well. Just tell me what you need.” The Vampyre offered in earnest. “I need to go outside the confines of this dwelling or I will expire!”
Yoko folded her arms, her mouth opening to respond, but it was Julius who beat her to it, stepping close enough to look the Vampyre straight in the eye. “ All right, Joachim. Putting aside the fact that we only came here to talk to Trevor, I don't mind taking up the slack for a bit while you run your errands. I would like you both to sit down and have that talk afterwards, however. My condition is you suck it up and answer all my questions. Both of you.”
“Ice cream.” Yoko hissed lowly. “I want you to bring back ice cream as well.”
“Fine! Fine.” Joachim agreed readily. “Chouchou go put your shoes on.” With a deep sigh when Trevor did not budge, the Vampyre resorted to dirty tactics, simply picking him up to carry him over to the door. Trevor frowned the entirety of the short trip, thinking he was definitely going to need to think of a countermeasure for just being manhandled around. Ghostly tendrils carried Joachim's decorative metal harness and dark blue leather coat along after them, which he donned effortlessly as the Vampyre waited for Trevor to comply. Stepping into simple black boots, the Vampyre grew so impatient with Trevor's hesitancy, he simply threw the hooded sweater at the Hunter and bent down to finish tying his shoes for him. “It will be perfectly fine.” Came another insistence. “A Belmont hunter and a Belnades witch are going to stand guard while we get you what you need to survive a Romanian winter. Kitten doesn't even need them to, really. Did you not sense how powerful your halfbreed has grown? It is an amazing turn of events, certainly.”
Trevor crossed his arms and studied his grandchildren instead of answering. They looked resolute and serious, and it made him apprehensive all over again. They wanted him to answer questions. Probably questions he didn't want to answer without running them by and working them out with Adrian first. They were going to ask him about the witch and the demon that wore his face, he knew it. It's why they had stopped by, after all. If doing Joachim a favour ensured the return of one in kind, then Trevor really saw no way out of this. He unfolded his arms to reach for the car keys, eager to shy from his looming fate for however long he could get away with it. Maybe if he played devil's advocate he could keep the Vampyre out all the evening and night and avoid the conversation all together. Another similarity the Vampyre seemed to share with his Dhampyre was a willingness to indulge his whims, after all. I am sorry, Adrian... I don't mean to leave you but...
“Don't stay out too long and be cautious. Keep to busy streets. Trevor is the one with the target on his back, remember.” Julius warned.
“I am two thousand years older than you, old man. You do not get to tell me what to do.” The Vampyre seethed briefly but quickly relented, as if also just remembering he had asked for and been granted by Julius a rather large favour. “Keeping him safe goes without question.”
“Likewise.” The elder man replied with a sweeping gesture towards the office door, and of who lay within Julius would be safeguarding. “Have fun.”
It seemed like that was the natural conclusion to the conversation, but the Vampyre had one more thing to clarify before they left. “What flavour, girl?”
Yoko's eyes narrowed before she caught on. “Oh... Well, how about your favourite flavour. I'm curious. I may even share it.”
With that settled, Trevor didn't need to be pushed out into the cold, he went on his own volition. The sting of the chilled winter air was unpleasant, but a more than welcome change from the static interior of the garden home. Tossing the keys to Joachim he slid into the passenger side seat, poking at the 'butt warmer' button the second he was buckled in. He really had no idea where they were going in the lightly falling snow and probably neither did any witch or servant of this coven, but a growing sense of exposure crept further up his spine the longer they idled in the driveway. As eager as he was to be away from the looming interrogation, he was becoming quite suddenly just as eager to bite the bullet and return inside. It was an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling to grapple with, this fear of the unknown. His fears had always had distinct faces he could place upon them. Fear of failure. Fear of leaving the family burden for his sons to take up. Fear of being burned or hung publicly if discovered that he deviated far too left of how a proper man was supposed to behave. He was rife with fears, and this new one was a logical and legitimate one given what had just happened to Adrian... But he'd never been afraid of the simple concept of leaving the house before. This new fear felt more shameful than the others. Perhaps they really had just spent too much time insulated from the outside and it would pass?
“Trevor.” That singular and plain use of his name from the Vampyre could be counted on one hand still, and so far never failed to catch his complete attention. The car's engine roared into life and they drove down the entire length of Adrian's street before Joachim gave him a cursory look and continued. “Do you care to share with me exactly why you are so apprehensive around Kitten's demon hunting pets? I could not help but notice you are rather conflicted about their visit.”
Conflicted was the correct word. He was afraid and shamed and weary of keeping suspicions to himself. It still didn't make him ready, in spite of the burden of secrecy. “No.” He answered in a hushed disused voice he hardly recognized as his own. It didn't feel like a loss this time. To give Joachim one of those precious sounds that were only his to keep or share, and that no one could take from him by force.
The Vampyre kept his eyes on the road, but Trevor could see with a glance at him in profile that the corner of those bloodless lips twinged nearly imperceptibly upwards. Joachim was pleased to have been trusted with his voice. He also took the single word as the complete sentence it was, instead pivoting when he responded on to an entirely different topic. “We're going to get you your essentials first. A coat and boots. Then we'll focus on finding you your own personal style and get you out of boring traditional Kitten's. Then we're going to have a nice sit down meal at a refined sushi place. After all that, we're going to take your new coat and boots out for a spin in Don Quijote's because I have an intense desire to watch you run around that mega-store. We're going to blow some Yen on capsule toys too. I'm missing only one super sentai ranger to complete the set.” Explained the Vampyre in a confident tirade. “Give me a simple thumbs up if you have no idea what half this means but you are on board with the plan anyway.”
What else could he do? Trevor gave that thumbs up. He was curious what a capsule toy was, anyway, and seeing what constituted as fashion in this country. Once they hit the main road and the Vampyre's glamour shifted into place flawlessly, Trevor also wondered if that was what Joachim had looked like as a human. The chosen glamour looked exactly like himself, only with a more cherubic and rosy skin tone and a head of russet hair instead of silver.
The winter coat was the easy part. After trying on a dozen styles, he settled on a hooded dark grey knee-length one with whatever a sherpa inner lining was. Feeling similar to wool, but not as scratchy, it felt warm and cozy against his skin. Joachim liked the slim-fit and how 'cuddly' the inside was. That made 'cuddly' the third word he needed to look up later, along with 'flirting' and 'cocaine'. The boots he chose in a similar style that went several inches higher than his ankle, which touted themselves as waterproof up to that ankle, with the Vampyre's help. He wore those out of the store and was grateful for the dry feet and warm coat, carrying his shoes in a plastic bag. Picking out actual clothes was monumental. It was pure insanity that there could be so much choice a stone's throw away from each other. So many styles and options, it was impossible to know where to begin. They browsed storefronts only until Joachim had an idea of what kinds of styles kept catching his eye. Then he was ushered along, sometimes by hand, sometimes by a secure arms around his waist or hand at the small of his back, weaved through streets and plazas to venues that yeah... Did indeed catch his eye.
“We have our answer, it seems.” Joachim mused. “If you care to be labelled, you are an alternative bordering on candy goth style icon, Trevor. I think you and my dearest Leila could borrow each others clothes. You're the same size and you seem to like the same things.”
Good to know, the Hunter supposed. If he needed to tell anyone what his personal style preference was labelled as. This Leila Joachim could not help but speak about much to Adrian's chagrin was also another curiosity he was harbouring. She clearly lived with them. Was she another of Joachim's pets? He spoke as fondly of her as he did Adrian, but she did not seem to have acquired a pet name from him. It was always Leila. Adrian did not seem to be very enthused by her either. Was it some petty jealousy as if between siblings or something? Curious indeed. Somehow, before finally being dragged off to eat sushi, he ended up with a glittering hair ornament fashioned into the small outline of a pair of rabbit ears. Trevor wore it to both humour the Vampyre and because he had spotted that in another smaller plastic bag was a similar pair made to look like a cat's ears. If his wearing of the bunny ears would be more arrows in the quiver to convince Adrian to wear the kitty ones, Trevor was 'game', as Yoko would put it. He now had a burning need to see Kitten don the kitty cat ears.
It was only upon the brief walk towards the suppliers of this sushi, after a small stop at the car to drop of various newly purchased items, that the time-displaced Hunter came to realize a disquieting truth. Until this very moment, steps away from ducking into a warm orange-lit restaurant, Trevor had not once glanced over his shoulder, kept eyesight on the quickest exit, nor surveyed his surroundings. He'd just... been in the moment. Enjoying himself. He'd been free. But why? How could I be so stupid? I'm out here on stolen time when I should be looking over Adrian, not even thinking about the fact that I am the reason Adrian was put in that state. Thank any and every deity willing to listen that Joachim had promised to stay on high alert, since Trevor was a complete idiot. He wasn't even going to think about the possibility his stupidity may have been caused precisely because Joachim had stated he would protect the Hunter. That was all Trevor had ever wanted for, after all. The chance here and there to not have to worry about anything. To be the one being cared after, sheltered and protected. Imagine the luxury.
The warm orange light was a suitable distraction from those unpleasant but painfully true thoughts. There was a mild steamy and slightly salty air about the establishment, but it was impeccably clean inside, with wondrous wooden decor. Guilty and paying more attention to the world and people around him that weren't Moroi, the Hunter could not help but noticed Joachim stop the hostess from leading them where she had in mind. Instead suggesting a vacant table more within direct line of sight and travel to the exit, should a swift escape be called for. Proof enough that at least one of them had been thinking of these things all night. One of them had more than wool in their thick skull.
Sushi and sashimi were simple but amazing. Marvellous little mouthfuls of colour and texture. The simplest on the menu to Trevor's eye, a red cube of a fish called tuna, was like biting into a perfectly ripened pear. The hard drink was an unfiltered form of sake called nigori. It was sweet and creamy, and Trevor found he drank more of it than he probably should have allowed himself. The green tea was called matcha, and it too was creamy and frothy. Joachim did not drink the matcha, calling it a whole bush's worth of leaf sweat with a wrinkled nose. It was while the demon watched him switch to nursing Joachim's teacup... tea bowl? Whatever it was, while he held the warm concoction between his hands, the Vampyre slid his phone across the table and popped a plastic looking pen out from the base. A silence had fallen around them as well as at their table.
Trevor put down the large cup or small bowl, whatever it was, and reached for the pen like instrument. It had come out from the phone, so he assumed it was to be used on it. As he hovered the tip over the device the black screen showed a tiny picture of a pen swirling a line. An electronic notepad as well then, he smiled to himself as he figured it out. Sparing a moment to look up at the demon he found only a subdued but pleased expression glancing back.
Did you want to ask me something? He wrote out tentatively.
Joachim showed him how to erase the message for the next one with a tap of a button before he replied. “I thought perhaps you may want to ask me something.” With a coy sounding coating but a clear sharp edge hidden beneath, the Vampyre added. “That isn't about Walter.”
The personal boundary was set, but Trevor didn't have any Walter Bernhard related questions anyway. He wasn't quite sure he had any questions at all, being put on the spot like this. That is not true... It's that I have too many questions to just pick one. But I suppose given the circumstances and where this strange journey will take me next... Yes, he supposed then he did indeed have a select few that were higher on the list of priorities. Mulling them over, he settled on what he thought would be the quickest one to break the ice.
Is that what you looked like as a human? I like it.
“Th-that was not quite the question I was expecting, to be honest.” Genuinely caught off guard, the reply was stammered a little. “Yes. I find it's much more believable to stick close to the truth. Even if your cover is blown due to unfortunately placed mirrors or well polished glass, when the change is so subtle, people are quick to believe it was a trick of the eye and your glamour is restored.”
Well that was a silly question that had turned out to have quite an informative answer. He would make a note about that later for the Bestiary and also ensure he ask Adrian why his glamours were always so elaborate. Feeling that he may as well get to the heart of the matter on his burning questions, he took the plunge. Who is Leila, really? Aside from being an angel?
The question made the demon laugh. It was a rich and smooth sound that was much different than Adrian's deep tone, but Trevor found just as pleasing to listen to. “Sweetest Leila is a large component of my world. In a sense, she is my child. I have raised her into the stunning perfection that she is today. That is my truth about Leila. You will have to ask Kitten for his. Although I urge you to not believe a thing he says about her. He is biased.”
She is not your blood? So she is not Moroi?
“Well, a smidge of Moroi. A pinch at best. She is half a banshee, so I do caution against getting into any screaming matches with her. Kitten can attest to this, although he never seems to learn his lesson. Quite par for the course with him. And no... There is no blood relation between she and I. Although I am quite fond of the idea that family are the people your heart chooses to keep. Blood has always seemed a tremulous bind at best.”
Do you think she will be okay with me? I don't want to make your home unpleasant. Or upset anyone.
“Leila will be fine with you, Little One. The only person she does not get along with, is Kitten. And that is entirely his fault. You can ask him about that too, if you like. But don't believe him for a second when he tells you the fault lay with her.”
Is she pretty? He wrote out with a smile, hoping to convey the joke.
“Depends. Exactly how many bones of yours are you willing to let me break?” Joachim's reply back was also made with a smile, but there was that hard edge hidden again in his voice that made it very clear the young lady was truly off limits to the wise.
That's fair. He wrote next with another audible chuckle. What is home like?
“Depends on which one you're asking me about. First home ever or current?” When Trevor indicated both after a slight pause for thought, Joachim shrugged. “I was stolen from my first home when barely more than a babe. We were a people of semi nomadic tribes. The real hunter and gatherer type. Honestly, being plucked from out my haystack that one night was the best thing that could have happened to me. I couldn't tell you really anything about them. I had three older siblings though. I recall them quite well.” Another shrug and the Vampyre moved on. “I am sure you are more than familiar with the Castle, so I will not bore you with that tale. I lived quite pampered when I was well behaved there. I did spend an unfortunate amount of time imprisoned in the waterways during the last few decades or so. Imprisonment was probably less than two hundred years, I am certain of that. After that experience, I really did not fancy the idea of staying anywhere indefinitely, but Kitten wore me down over the years with his wistful dreams. He liked that he had roots all of a sudden one day and refused to follow my nomadic lifestyle. Huh.” Joachim tilted his head, and laughed again. “When I say it out loud like this, I realize that I've ended up just like the tribe I hailed from after all these millennia. Wandering around with no end in sight. I suppose I am semi-nomadic as well... But after Walter's demise, home has always been Adrian, and my Kitten likes to stay in his commune.”
Will I be safe there, or am I going to invite trouble there as well?
“You make it sound as if tragedy follows you, Belle Lapin.” Came a gentler sounding reply that followed the tug on his glittery hair ornament. Trevor would have wrote that he was of the opinion that tragedy did indeed stalk his every move, but Joachim carried on before he could put the plastic pen to the screen again. “Home is as big or as small as you'd like it to be. The network of villages above are up your alley. Rustic and quaint. A bit of an ongoing mongrel infestation with all those Beastmen cluttering up the place.” Pausing to roll his eyes, the next word was hissed out with a grimace. “Manbeast. They like to call themselves Manbeasts in some effort to differentiate themselves from the usual mindless, brutish beasts. I am endeavouring to try and stop calling them Beastmen all the time. Or mongrels. It is... Obviously not going well.”
Trevor had another soft audible chuckle pulled out of him, but he waited for the Vampyre to continue otherwise.
“That is what is above. There is a thick enchanted forest that beguiles travellers filled of poisonous fist-sized spiders surrounding the area. You have to know where you are going to actually make it through the woods, so it is quite safe. The spider broodmother lives in the village, and she is aware of what her children catch in their webs. It is quite an excellent alarm system, as you can imagine. And if you'd like to imagine further, I can say with firsthand knowledge that the broodmother, Arachne, is quite alluring to behold.”
Trevor only shivered at the thought, wondering just how far away from the spider forest was Adrian's house? Hopefully.... far far away from both the woods and the spider woman who populated it.
“If the quiet village life with the slow pace and dappled sunlight coming through the forest canopy doesn't suit your tastes, well the majority of the fun people live below, in Adrian's lovely underground city. It's tiered so we don't fight amongst ourselves. Most of the aquatic fishfolk have no desire to do anything but live and eat other smaller fish, so they skulk around the bowels of the city and sewers. They seem happy with it the arrangement. The rest of us civilized demons hang out on sub-level one. It's like this city here, only underground. And smaller. But much larger than you'd think possible. We have all kinds of talented demons and innocent devils about, creating and entertaining. Runners who can slip in and out of our commune and human cities with little notice to make monthly supply runs for anything we cannot create ourselves. You'll see, we're pretty independent and self-contained. For good reason, as it's much safer to stay that way. But I still find it a point of pride, regardless. I'd love to show you around and introduce you to my friends. You would be adored, I promise.”
I would love to let you show me. Trevor scratched out, tiny and earnest smile – albeit coloured suddenly by a dose of shyness – pulling at the corner of his lips. Does Adrian stay above or below like you do?
“When he is around these days, Kitten stays cloistered in his workshop and lab. It's kind of in between, with access points to both. He never stops working. Always something else to be done, you see. Something to improve or repair. I like to take my rest in the cottage above to keep an eye on Leila. She lives mostly cloistered in her bedroom. She and Kitten have so much in common, it's no wonder they fight constantly. But she and I both enjoy what the underground has to offer while Kitten... Well. Kitten never stops working, as mentioned. I hope that with you around to distract him, he will finally take a moment or two to enjoy what he's built.”
The Hunter leaned back to study the demon before him. An expression of concern for the sleeping Dhampyre back at the garden home was clear. Such a rarity, to find an honest Desire demon in the wild. More so to find one whose every action was not painted with selfishness, and whom had the capacity for compassion. Now Trevor knew of two. What were the chances that both seemed keen pull him into their laps? Now that thought brought his blush back, but he ignored the heat on his face to reach his hand out on the table, palm upwards. Joachim wasted no time taking his hand, laying his own palm-down upon his. The Hostess breezing by them back to her post made a cooing noise to herself she likely thought could not have been heard. Trevor had exceptional hearing, however. He did not let her little noise force him to yank his hand back, instead keeping that connection in place as he let all his warm, appreciative feelings be bared for the demon to pick up.
“You should be more cautious, Little One.” Joachim mused softly. “I think you might be falling in love with me in the very human sense of the word.”
The connection between them felt so electric, he half expected to see smoke rising up from their clasped hands. The Vampyre wordlessly communicated that he was beyond pleased. He was playful. Curious and intrigued. His energy was buzzing and his aura filled the entire space around them. The Hunter wondered to what depths exactly he was communicating back through the unbroken line between them to make Joachim say such a thing. Curiosity did not equal intent, after all.
It is getting quite late. You still need to get Yoko that iced cream. Plastic pen scrawled out after a few silent minutes spent studying one another.
“And you food for the rest of the week. And I want to try to get my missing yellow super sentai capsule.” With a sigh Joachim took his hand back and shuffled them up and out to pay and carry on, but Trevor could still feel the electricity along time afterwards.
The new coat paid for itself just in the next short walk back to the car. The temperature had dipped down drastically to below frigid. The last stop was this hyped up Donkey store? Don Key? There was a blue bird-like caricature in a hat out front. The crammed multi-level floor was a wonderland. Grocery and fascinating snacks procured and paid for, and after Joachim had enjoyed watching him dart around the hodgepodge indoor market as promised, they found themselves at the front of the area by a bunch of funny looking contraptions. It turned out that these were the capsule machines, and the Vampyre enlisted the aid of several older children who were tourists to find the yellow super scent tea. The children got to spend his Yen and keep the prizes. He just wanted the yellow scent tea. He even let Trevor pick one to crank open, that contained a small yellow oblong shape. Inside the shell was an orange ball with four darker orange stars in it.
“Ah, you got the Suushinchuu.” When Trevor only stared blankly, the Vampyre elaborated, although it was no help in demystifying the orange ball. “The Four Star Dragon Ball.”
You'd think a dragon's testicles would be bigger? Trevor stared at the ball for a few minutes longer before pocketing it. Maybe Adrian would be able to tell him what a shoe shine chew was supposed to be and if it really came off of a dragon. About fifteen minutes after that matter was settled for now, one of the children who was visiting with their parents from a country called Can-something struck the plastic gold that Joachim was looking for. He gave that child the remainder of his change as thanks and bid them all, parents included, a good night. The last thing they did was buy the iced cream before leaving. The yellow scent tea was not a leaf or beverage, but actually a little plastic man. He wore strange armour and a mask-like helmet. Trevor had no idea why the Vampyre had wanted it, but at this point he rightfully had given up on understanding capsule toys.
Making their way back to the car park to deposit the rest of their bags, Joachim stopped him from climbing inside to instead follow him into one of those elevators he had taken while staying in the hospital. They came out on the open-air top of the car park only for the Vampyre to pull him to the edge of the area to overlook the part of the city they could see from that vantage point. It was not the amazing sight he had seen on the Ferris wheel with Adrian, but it wasn't too bad. Pretty and bright. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and pulled his hood up against the bitter cold.
“It's not quite the romantic view I had in mind, but it's probably the last time either of us will be in this city for a while, I imagine. I just wanted to take a good look at it one more time.” Joachim divulged in a quiet voice. Trevor had a sudden feeling that taking in the world around him was perhaps one of the most important passions Joachim possessed. An immortal, secret admirer, observing the finite and mutable. “Here.” He said, pulling Trevor over to pull a blue-grey scarf out of a small bag he must have retrieved from the car. This was wrapped and tucked neatly around Trevor's neck before his hood was pulled back up over the sparkly rabbit ears. “It's cashmere. A very high quality wool that is worth the expense.”
Trevor tested it against his freezing cheek, feeling the warmth and smoothness glide over his frozen flesh. '”Soft.” He whispered to the only person around who could be trusted to hear him. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome, Little One.” Now with mischief in his still silver eyes, Trevor felt himself being pulled in close, and hoisted up. There was an arm just under his backside, and another stabilizing him around his waist. “Don't wiggle or you'll fall.” The warning being the only clue he had that they were ascending into the sky.
Now with a death grip on the demon, he watched wide-eyed as the skyline drew closer. They rose above the majority of the skyscrapers, far above the car park and the streets they had just walked. Still climbing, soon the whole expanse of the city could be seen. It was so much larger then he could imagine. Just a vast swath of lights twinkling in the darkness. He could even see the Ferris wheel he'd ridden and the park they'd walked far in the distance. It was amazing, to hover above such a breathtaking view, seeing it in a way no human under their own power could ever hope to see. Stunning, really.
“That's a little more romantic now, don't you think?” Joking quip made, the instruction that followed was spoken more seriously. “We're going back down now, so hold tight. Say goodbye to Tokyo, Trevor.”
He gave the city a little wave much to the demon's delight and took in as much as he could on the descent back down to reality. They rode the elevator back below and climbed back into the car so as to return to even more grim reality. But Trevor would never forget that view as long as he lived. The Hunter wished in that very moment that he could fly. If he could, he would see sights like the city skyline all the time. He could also fly away from uncomfortable conversations... Which was what they were heading back towards, to resign themselves and return a favour for a favour. Maybe one day Joachim could teach him to use his own aura to throw himself around as well. That might be fun. The very notion of throwing himself across a field was a humorous distraction as they sat in comfortable silence for the ride back. Just like with Adrian, the ride was always over sooner that it felt it should be. Trevor found he liked car rides after all. Hopefully there would be more back in Romania.
Inside the garden home was not as toasty warm as Trevor had hoped it would be, so he hung up the new coat but kept the scarf on. The dwelling did not seem made to keep heat in well. Or more precisely, to keep the cold out efficiently. Joachim took all the fun bags to the bedroom, leaving the Hunter to unpack and store the food. The kitchen was where Yoko and Julius joined him once they had roused from the office, the door clicking shut behind them alerting him to their presence. He smiled and continued to stock the fridge, waiting for the inevitable that did not come just yet.
“Nice scarf.” Yoko whistled, and accepted it when he unravelled the soft fabric from his neck and unfolding it out to true size, wrapped it around her like a warm little blanket. “Cashmere? Trevor, you shop like you're a rich bitch.” She laughed. “Send some of your demon boyfriend's money my way once in a while. Either one's wallet will suffice.”
Ignoring that remark succinctly, he found the frozen iced cream and handed it to the girl to get her to move away from her current line of thinking. She seemed overtly pleased by the selection of flavour. Another bottle of that creamy sweet sake was given to Julius in case his mind needed changing as well. Finished with the restock, he gathered discarded food packaging, and emptied the kitchen waste bin. Slipping back into his coat and boots he went to take the small garbage bag out to the bins outside where trash was collected from every week. As before, that twinge of fear of the great unknown struck, but he pushed through it and opened the front door defiantly.
Waste successfully deposited, the Hunter paused when he realized that for the first time in literal months... He was alone. Adrian, Joachim, Yoko and Julius... They were all in the house. Solitary and in silence, he turned slowly to look at the empty snow covered road, and the stillness in the world beyond. That creeping sense of exposure was settling into his bones again as he spun slowly in place, watching the tree tops and bushes. Everything was freezing cold and still. On his second rotation, the fence drew his attention for an unknown reason... Until he saw it.
A warping of the light.
A shape was bending light away from it in such a fashion, that it seemed to blend into the background. Trevor had seen that warping effect before, he acknowledged with a deep sinking pit in his stomach. Back in the Coven's cave where they had pulled a battered and brutalized Adrian out of. The demon that wore his face had bent the light around it just like that. It can't be anything but that... That... Lilû. It has to be the Lilû. Not wanting to retreat out into the street which is perhaps what the creature intended for him to do, sneaking up behind him as it had, Trevor kept his body turned towards the creature while still checking his peripherals for any surprise witches. This is not like how they have been operating at all. They were all secrets and scurrying about underground like rats. Why would they be here now? There are dozens of people who live on this road? He could probably make it inside the door if he ran... But what if that was what they wanted him to do as well? Adrian was still hurt.
He opened his mouth to shout. To alarm the demon hunters just beyond. Fully committed to the action, his voice caught in his throat before he could make a sound. No... Please not now. You said something earlier tonight, please. Just... Shout. Scream. Cry if you have to!
The beguiling shape seemed to take his open mouth as some kind of invitation. He watched it's warping effect skew everything it passed on it's way to his side. There was the car between them and the door. The fence between them and the yard. The open road behind and unknown danger. It was too close now to outrun it, he knew, having seen it take flight after taking out Yoko and Joachim the other night. Trevor was fast, but this creature seemed just as swift on foot. So what was left? To fight it? Wrestle the demon into submission? Trevor knew he was strong, but he had no weapons on him and the creature had managed to overpower him in their last struggle.
At least... it's strange draining power does not seem to have an effect on me. Perhaps if I can just... hold it off long enough, or make enough noise in the fight? Throw it onto car, maybe?
The light bending trickery faded away, leaving an inky black shape that no light at all could absorb into. They were nearly the same size, which meant the Hunter would not be able to get much leverage to help him out in a grapple. The extra weight he'd put on since their last go at one another wouldn't help much either. It wasn't a significant enough gain, and the creature's physical strength was disturbingly high anyway.
Slowly, starting from the very crown of it's head, did the black ink peel away, falling to the side like a crest of water. Under the moonlight a pretty face and glossy hair spilled free. A part of it made Trevor irrationally angry. Almost as if he was looking at the statue in Adrian's study all over again. A more perfect version of his scarred up and hideous pelt sent to mock him in his weakest moments. He nearly twisted his face into a snarl, but before he could, the odd mirror image quirked it's head to the side and with a smile spoke one word. It was only one, but it was enough to take the fight right out of him.
In a dual-toned voice that sounded like a man and a woman fighting for dominance, the ruby red lips of the demon in the moonlight parted and happily greeted him as if he were an old friend. “Sonia!”
The voice... That odd cadence. He'd heard it before. He felt that truth in his very soul. Blinking quickly, his vision could not clear. He was... He was crying. This demon familiar of the witch who'd hurt Adrian was here to claim him for it's master no doubt, and all he was doing was openly weeping while be paralyzed with uncertainty.
The demon reached out to wipe his tears away. It was just the way his mother would do it when he was a small boy; Two thumbs brushing as her hands cupped his face. She'd then tell him that it was all right to be upset, but that they were Belmonts. They were not afforded the luxury of tears. He needed to dry them up and face what was upsetting him head on. That was what Belmonts did. That was what Sonia always did. It was what Trevor was supposed to do too. But Trevor was not a good Belmont in that regard. Not a good man, either. Too soft. Too sensitive. She'd tried time and time again to harden him, if only for his own good. The world didn't accept a soft man, and certainly not in the kind of world he was being thrust into once he took up their legacy.
“Sonia, no tears.” Dual-tone soothed in a voice that was more light. As if the breathy woman had won the battle for now. “No tears. Be happy.”
Hearing his mother's name like that, there was simply nothing left to him. He was a numb husk of whatever he once had been. The creature's hands released his face to slide down his neck and shoulders. At some point it's arms encircled him and he was drawn into an embrace. In a complete daze he allowed it to happen. The inky demon was holding him in it's arms, a soft purring sound rumbling in it's chest.
“Sonia is happy now? This one is sad when Sonia is sad.” The lower pitch was overtaking the higher one now. “Sonia has pretty smile.”
“...Ngh.”
“It is okay, Sonia.” The tones levelled out, back in harmony. “Come with this one. It will be okay now. No more tears soon.” It sounded like such an easy promise as the demon reached up to pull his head back into range and as it positioned itself, Trevor realized belatedly what final intent the creature had in mind. A demon kiss. As had been explained to him, the greater demon exposed itself to the weaker one to show trust, and to show love. So that the weaker one could have the chance to prove it was worthy of that love. In the eyes of this awful mocking twin, Trevor was the lesser, and it wanted him to know his place.
It was enough to set ones blood to a boil.
In all serious truth, Trevor was not technically unarmed. He had been growing out his nails – let's call them what they were; they were fucking talons – to better drum against Adrian's sarcophagus. In actual truth, he could probably tear this pretty-faced demons throat out right now, were it not for the liquid black armour. It was trusting him to embrace it it back, not go for blood. The gall of it for that assumption as well, to outright expect Trevor Belmont to submit himself to just any fucking Desire demon that decided to cross his path. The goddamn armour covering it, however... There was less. More than what Yoko had burned away with her magick, but still less than what had become wings and a tail that night in the cave. The beast too was still recovering from the encounter. There had to be a way to just get that sparse recovering armour to shift. All he needed was an opening that could do more than superficial damage, as much as he wanted to give that beautiful face a scar or two.
With the hands that wanted to tear flesh instead forced to gently grip the demon's arms, Trevor forced a mask of trepidation and uncertainty over his rankled ire. He kept their faces distractingly close, as if he was trying and failing to puzzle out what the demon expected of him, all while slowly shifting them around the car and towards the front door. It was a Desire demon with it's prey in it's grasp. So long as it thought it had him, he would be it's whole focus. Trevor edged them ever closer to safety by alternating between leaning into the embrace and then pulling back, as if he were a pious virgin nervous about unknown passions. If he could just get close enough to the door to bang on it, perhaps Yoko could burn a little more ink off this pale monster's flesh and give him a chance to carve into it.
The ginger little dance between them stalled halfway between the car and the door. The Hunter recognizing the plan had gone awry when the gentle force he exerted to step away was instead met with gentle resistance. He pulled a little harder only to be met with even firmer resistance. Mask dropping, Trevor grit his teeth and gave his best attempt to wrench free. Blue-grey eyes looked back at him so sadly as wiry steel held him in place, only incensing his fury.
“No.” The pitch was in full control of it's tone now, seeking to deny him his freedom. “Sonia does not remember, but Sonia still comes with this one. Come now.”
Black oil oozed across his skin, moving from the lithe body before him over and under his clothing. The Hunter could feel it encircling his shoulders and moving down his back, but he hardly paid the clear danger any mind, as his gut instinct... Was correct. There were no wings or tail because there was not enough of the substance to do any more than protect it's body. As the coating moved across his now to ensnare, the limit of the otherworldly ink was met. Large swathes of the creatures flesh was revealed, pale pink exposed to the winter air down it's sides. Trevor had his opening, and he took it with impudence. Five hooked little blades stabbed at an upwards angle into the freshly exposed ribs of the tiny demon, tearing both it's flesh and a shriek out of it's throat. Hot blood poured down his frozen fingers, but he curled his own arm around the monster to try and keep it in place as he dug for it's lungs or heart. He'd settle for taking a page out of Adrian's book and snapping a few of it's ribs, even.
Or getting the attention of the cavalry, which was what he ended up achieving.
The resulting squawk and commotion when Julius' foot collided with the Lilû's collarbones woke the entire street up. Home after home lighting up as people started to gather out of their doors. The demon was kicked with such a force it had to curl in the air to land on hands and feet in the road, only to be met with the snarling Vampyre attacking from behind. Ghostly swords and tendrils on full display.
“Round two.” Joachim sneered at the other demon.
That was as much as Trevor could see before Yoko was yanking him back inside the dwelling. She pulled him straight to Adrian's office, demanding he open it with the correct code and then threw him inside with a curt warning to not move and keep Alucard safe, before she slammed the door shut. He heard her mutter something along the line of him being 'catnip for demons', whatever that meant before her voice also disappeared. There was nothing but deafening silence and the racing of his own pulse after that.
It felt like eternity. Or a dream.
He shed his coat but kept his boots on. The weapons Adrian had gifted him were pulled free of his bag and donned, before the Hunter leaned with his back against the ornate sarcophagus, and waited. In the silence so loud it hurt his ears, he studied the flaking dried blood on his right hand until the muffled distant sound of sirens caught his attention. He'd heard those before. Emergency vehicles. They were the ones that also had the varying patterns of flashing lights. Adrian had always seemed overly keen on avoiding emergency vehicles, and had warned Trevor about not doing anything publicly that would make someone want to call them. Those so called “authorities.” Too late for that now. Came the passing thought that passed into another long period of silence. The sirens had cut short, and eventually the commotion that had been outside moved into the garden home. Trevor hesitated to leave the office, but ultimately curiosity won out. The only voices he'd heard muffled beyond the walls was of his grandchildren, after all.
They were in the kitchen in a flurry of activity. Julius was sealing a bloody sliver of what looked like skin into a little vial and placing it amongst others filled with blood, and one with hair. There was even a vial filled with a small amount of black liquid. Yoko had finished laying out a field kit of medical supplies along the table, and was now folding a piece of paper neatly in half. When she lay eyes on him it seemed at first she was about to attack or scold him for not obeying her command to the letter, but the girl only pulled him close and began to scrape the dried blood from his hand, the rust coloured dust falling onto the freshly folded parchment. She paused to take a picture of his bloodied hand before resuming, occasionally meeting his eyes to either gauge his reaction or search for something else. The Hunter really couldn't say. Her expression was unreadable as she worked.
“Since when have you had claws, Gramps? I thought you were captain of the glam squad.” Her voice was firmer than usual, holding only a trace of her usual friendliness.
Trevor pulled his hand back out of her grip due to a deeply ingrained habit, having always heeded his mother's warnings to hide his abnormalities away, all of his life. It was by nature of being around demons day in and day out that had even allowed the Hunter to entertain the notion of just... Being himself. The younger hunter didn't manage to pull away very far before Julius had him next, twisting his wrist around to get a good look of what was on display. When the elder man made as if to reach out for his phone, Yoko advised him she'd already documented it.
“Looks like a match as well.” Julius replied somewhat cryptically, but Yoko seemed to have understood his intent. “Sit down, it's safe.” The grizzled hunter stated next, all but pushing him down onto the closest stool. “The creep – Err – Joachim, is all right, don't worry. He's out throwing his Force of Will around town ensuring all of tonight's witnesses and special guests have no idea any crazy shit went down. While I am not a fan of such activity, it does seem to have it's uses. As for the Lilû, I am ashamed to say that wily little fucker is an escape artist.” With a great sigh sounding full of all that purported shame, the full story was divulged. “We almost had it so it got desperate. I was expecting Lilû's friend to make an appearance like the last time I threw hands with the damned demon, but Lilû is not a one trick pony. So you are aware, that black inky substance can also get very spiky and blast off of it's body like a fucking frag grenade. I hate owing favours and now I owe the Vamp two. Literally shielded me with his body.”
Trevor was not quite sure he understood. He'd never heard of a 'frag grenade' before, but as he could see there were a handful of fragmented puncture wounds on one of Julius' arms, he had a vague idea forming. But if what Julius was saying was true, that meant that... Joachim was hurt. He wasn't 'all right' like previously claimed. Julius and Yoko didn't seem too concerned that the Vampyre was probably riddled with these puncture wounds, but then again the pair of them were distrustful and wary of the demon to begin with. Would they really care if he was gravely wounded?
Stop it. Of course they would, because you would care. Quit spiralling into the worst case of every scenario.
“The Lilû was here alone. Joachim said he felt you two were being followed around the city, but since he couldn't smell any of the scents that were in the Cave around town, he didn't see the need to alarm you. Apparently you were quite enjoying yourself, and the scent of the Lilû is nearly indistinguishable from the atmosphere. Combined, it is forgivable a mistake that will not be made again.” Julius paused after his fairly accurate silver Vampyre impression to place all his vials in the freezer before turning back around to fix Trevor in his sights. “He did share a curious comparison while explaining that tricky scent. Did you know that to a Vampyre, you and the Lilû smell almost identical, Trevor?” Julius let that sit a moment, this time clearly studying him for is reaction. When Trevor gave nothing away, the man sighed again. “If you care to know, you have subtle sweet notes to your scent that make you a bit easier to track, according to a Moroi.”
I get it, already. I am suspiciously too similar to that demon. You want to know why. Wouldn't we all.
“How are we going to get the samples to the lab guys on site in the forest without them spoiling?” Yoko cut in, sparing Trevor from having to come up with a non-verbal way to communicate that Julius' guess was as good as his. “Without calling them to come pick them up right here. Not sure Al would appreciate that. Especially if they want to come in here to do a sweep.”
“I'll call them for a pick up in the park, and advise to bring the proper shipping containers. Should be all right, considering we got them in the freezer straight after collection.” The old man replied, pulling out two more of those little glass vials from out of his bag. He held them before Trevor long enough for the younger hunter to give him full attention before Julius' expression drew into a grimace. “Look, this is going to sound weird, but I figured I'll just ask your permission respectfully straight out. I'd like to have some tests run on you, and that requires I take blood and hair samples. Is that all right?”
Tests? Like working on an alchemical recipe or another ritual or..?
“I know it sounds strange, but with your blood we can see a lot about your health, but also your lineage. If we ran a sample of yours against Yoko's and mine, it should prove that we are related by blood. I think it is important to establish that with concrete evidence going forward.”
“It will prove your story is real.” Yoko chimed in, funnelling the dried blood scraping down the folded paper into yet another little glass vial. “It's a fantastical tale, so proof other than word of mouth is highly recommended.”
...All right. Trevor traded looks between them and gave a sigh of his own. It did sound a strange request, but these were his grandchildren. He trusted them. If they seemed to think he was going to need to prove who he was is this odd fashion, they were most likely correct. Fixing Julius with his gaze, he gave a single clear nod.
“Thanks, Trevor. I prefer to have your permission than be required to force it out of you another way. Unfortunately I do not have all the correct supplied, so I am going to sterilize a knife and cut you. The only viable method at the moment.” The elder hunter reached out to take his wrist and lift his arm, turning it. With his own finger her tapped one of the larger veins visible beneath the skin in the crook of his elbow. “We'll take the sample blood from here. Just gimme a minute to get a thinner blade.”
Why wait? Trevor shrugged and used his own razor thin fingernail to pierce the buried vein.
“Whoa, okay.” Julius exclaimed, scrambling to pop open the vial and place it properly in order catch the gushing liquid before it tapered off.
Yoko used the distraction to pluck some strands of his hair out with a pair of tweezers. “Thank you so much, Trevor. This will make our lives easier.” She confessed, sounding honestly relieved.
Trevor's two samples were taped together and then also deposited into the freezer. His arm was sterilized and slapped with both a little square of gauze and a band-aid, before he was sent to wash his hands free of the Lilû's blood. Yoko and Julius moved on to cleaning up the few punctures on Julius next, Yoko having made it out of this recent encounter unscathed, luckily. The pair were just patching up the last of the red whorls in the man's shoulder when the front door's lock clicking into place announced the Vampyre's return.
The Hunter sprung up from his place at the table to meet the demon, moving so quickly he collided straight into the taller man still kicking off wet boots in the entrance-way. Joachim was in only the layered black shirts, probably having taken off his harness and coat prior to the attack and sparing no time to put them back on when the Lilû struck. The black shirt and undershirt that were now riddled with jagged holes and red-stained melting snow that only Joachim's quick reflexes catching him about the shoulders kept Trevor from crashing fully into.
“Exercise more caution, Little One.” Smooth liquid silver schooled him. There were two thin slices near his temple, and one more on the same side's cheekbone, but otherwise the Vampyre seemed fine. “Do you know you are one of only two people, that I am aware of, who are are always happy to see me? I appreciate that quality about you. And while I am most certain you would make a fine Vampyre, I'd rather keep you as you are now.” Spoken with a small playful smile, the Vampyre gave him a quick wink on top of it. “Let's keep away from my blood until we're sure you're not cut anywhere, ma Belle. There's hardly enough of it, but just as a precaution.”
“Not very careful.” He shot back in a hush, wiggling the hem of a tattered shirt for emphasis.
“Blame the old man.” The Vampyre insisted, shuffling him back into the kitchen to join the rest of the hunters. “But while you're at it, in the old man's defence, who could have suspected the great progenitor of all Desire demons possessed urticating bristles like a damned tarantula?”
“That sure was crazy, right?” Julius concurred.
“I'll say. It's been a long while since I've seen something unexpected like that.” The Vampyre replied easily, friendly-like, one could argue convincingly. Almost immediately upon realizing he was dangerously close to having an amicable conversation with the last Belmont Hunter, the demon crossed his arms and set a scowl into place instead. “Blood needs to be tested within eight hours or should be stored colder than a commercial home appliance can reach. You're going to need to get your little science experiments en route, Old Man.”
“Way ahead of you, Ancient Man. The lab techs are on their way. ETA fifteen in the park just yonder. You're welcome for not inviting them to your doorstep.”
“I believe you mean they should be thankful you did not lead them like lambs to the slaughter. I could use a snack after saving your hide.”
“I babysat Kitten for you. We're even, Steven. And while I absolutely do need to talk to Trevor about some things, we'll try again before we fly out. You're good if we leave? Perimeter safe?”
“Fort Knox, the Bank of England, and this house are untouchable. Get on with your Church business, humans. If we are still here when you are finished playing lapdogs, you are welcome back.”
The pair gathered their samples, stealing ice cubes from the icebox to pack them in, before each paused to give Trevor a quick hug that he returned in earnest. Yoko made him promise with a nod to stop getting himself into such exciting situations all the time. It was okay to be boring every now and then, she insisted. Another squeeze from the girl and his grandchildren vanished into the black cold air. The finality of the door shutting was emphasized by Joachim's aura coating the exit. In fact, his spectral energy was oppressively everywhere along the walls and windows of the dwelling. There was nothing that could break in without literally getting through him first.
“I do apologize, Pretty Rabbit, but you'll be staying completely inside from now on until we are ready to leave en masse. No more garbage runs or sitting out by the fire pit.”
That's fair. He nodded without argument. It had been his fault once again that others around him were injured. Speaking of... His hand reached out to lift the tattered shirts and assess the damage, only to be caught again by the wrist as the Vampyre stepped back from him.
“What did I say earlier about minding my blood?”
“Julius has deep punctures.” He explained in that weak disused voice, now that they were alone together. It was getting easier and easier to talk to the demon who effortlessly accommodated him. “I want to see if you are hurt. I am not cut or anything.” Locking eyes for a battle of wills, Trevor won out, with a simple 'fine' from the demon. The black shirt was removed in a fluid motion identical to how Adrian divested himself while the mangled undershirt simply torn away and discarded, revealing an alabaster torso unlike the enviable statue in the study, and not simply because this one was marred with red smears. Joachim was surprisingly delicate once revealed. The Hunter did his absolute best to stick to task and soundly ignore the pretty ring on the chain he was certain was the source of a Hex. “They are not deep.” Trevor surmised, cleaning away the mess to reveal mostly superficial pockmarks. Demon flesh was much harder to pierce than human. The handful that were deep enough to warrant he bandaged up, most having been along the Vampyre's forearms. He'd protected his face with them, which explained the lack of wounds there. “You were correct. I was worried for no reason.”
“Well...” Liquid silver entreated. “I do appreciate that as well. Most people are concerned just of me, and not for my well-being...” Silver eyes considered him, full of curiousness and questions, before Trevor was softly spoken to again. “Go check on Kitten for us while I find a shirt to borrow.”
Left with a simple task, go look at the outside of an ornately carved box for a bit, he stood up to comply. Considering he was going to have to get used to staring at that particular box for who knows how long without a break, sentenced to stasis once more as they were, he may as well re-familiarize himself with it. The humidity and heat of the room were welcome as he re-entered. His new winter coat was picked up off the floor on his way to look at Adrian's sarcophagus. Still and pretty, just as it had been. No signs of disturbance or desperate banging from the inside. Still playing with his new coat, he considered the couch with seriousness. The night was exciting and fun before adrenaline kicked in during the attack, and while it was only predawn, he was suddenly quite exhausted. Joachim would forgive him for falling asleep on the couch again. He turned away to do just that.
Clockwork began to tick behind him. Tiny gears and mechanisms churning and whirring away, lifting and peeling back the sarcophagus lid.
Trevor turned on his heel, dropping his coat back to the floor in shock as he observed the production spring to life. Frozen in place, he watched the black earth shift and ripple, clumps of it trickling over the edge of the wood as the being that rest beneath it stirred, awakening. A clawed hand protruded next and raked more soil to the wayside, while the wood groaned quietly as a great weight shifted inside. Then there it was... White silver hair with secret gold, cresting the earth, followed by the rest of the familiar shape, sitting up out of the dirt.
He is awake...
The Dhampyre was finally awake.
Adrian turned his head towards him, and the relief and weight casting off was so great, Trevor's legs buckled before giving out. After his knees hit the floor, he may have passed out. There was blackness and only a single repeating thought drifting in and out.
Adrian is all right. Adrian is back.
Notes:
Cat-Nip for Demons was stolen (with clear intent communicated that I was going to be stealing it) from reader Guestfloater's comment on a previous chapter. It sounded like a Yoko line when they made it. All credit goes to them for that perfection.
I read every single comment, and some of you may have had more influence than you think you did. I thank you all for that!
Chapter 42: Adonis Restored
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward
As the Hunter felt his body laid gently back down upon the wooden floorboards, hazy shapes and voices started to form into a semblance of familiarity. Amber light skirted across the geometric planes and shadows of the closest figure bending over his prone, a curtain of silk brushing his body as the figure's attention was called towards the other standing shape. The strands of silk felt as soft as the loose coils looked to touch, white-silver laced with hidden gold curling between his fingertips as he reached out automatically to toy with them. It was all coming back to him now; where he was, what he was blinking hard and straining tired eyes to focus upon. Dreamily, he sat up, chasing the shape with a name he had on the tip of his tongue, but the other standing figure was pulling it along before he could even manage to make it to his knees.
“Come along now. A little floor nap never hurt anyone; He will be perfectly fine.” A liquid silver soothed the secret gold. “If anything, it was the disastrous sight of you like this that probably scared him half to death. You look like a bloated corpse.” Smooth laughter followed before the silver quipped. “Well, I guess that is what you technically are. A bloated Moroi.”
Trevor watched them vanish out the office door, blinking more slowly now until the room came into clear view. His strength felt drained, and legs nearly boneless. As if now that the Hunter no longer had to bear the burdens of concern and the unknown, his rebel flesh would force him to do what his mind never would allow... To rest. He could have lay himself back down where he now hovered between sitting and standing and closed his eyes. The urge was that great, and a little floor nap never hurt anyone, right? Still, moving in that numb state, he found he made it to his feet, coat somehow in his hands. He next took notice that he was in the entrance-way, kicking off winter boots and haphazardly hanging up a new winter coat, a silver voice instructing in his head that everything had it's place and should be returned there after use. Bereft of balance, he nearly stumbled over any movement that wasn't deliberately focused upon. A balancing hand sliding along the wall was the only way he could make it to the bathroom under his own power, but he somehow just knew that was where he needed to be. He stepped inside and managed to hobble to the opposite wall, sliding down it to sit and watch while he gathered his better senses into some kind of cohesive thought.
A grotesque show played out for his scrambled mind, starring a trash bin, a kitchen stool, a Vampyre stepping out of a borrowed shirt and pants so as not to foul them up irreparably, and a swollen, rotted Dhampyre who looked ready to burst like an overripe fruit at the slightest touch. The clothes were thrown beside Trevor, but he hardly took note of them, intent on watching a now naked slight of frame Vampyre struggle to get the fetid, stringy, peeling corpse, who also seemed to be suffering with weak knees, to sit on the stool placed in the middle of the shower. It was a combination of the limp uncooperative limbs and a reddish jelly oozing out of every tear in the mottled and marbled flesh that seemed to make the task so difficult for the elder demon. The smell was awful as well. The Hunter had a keen sense of smell, and it was... revolting. He imagined it could only be so much worse having a Vampyre's olfactory prowess. But the Vampyre in question did succeed after a time, and thus began the process of peeling the Dhampyre free.
Trevor watched the careful precision used to trace around the hairline and ears, before equally precise lines were sliced down the sides of the neck, arms, sides, legs. It wasn't particularly a fast process, even less so once it came time to slice along inner thighs and other intimate areas, but the movement was efficient, and seemingly well-practised. It made the Hunter wonder how many times had the Vampyre had to do this in order to make it seem such a mundane chore on one hand, while on the other he wondered why he was not more disturbed by it. Trace lines now in place, the actual peeling began. That, unlike the careful line-work, was fast and furious, rotten flesh falling away with only a few extra claw slices to break up residual connecting tissue.
The Vampyre stood abruptly, triumphantly, holding what more or less was the front-half of the Dhampyre's rotten pelt in his hands like a morbid trophy. “See?” The liquid silver purred as equally silver eyes settled on the milky scabbed vision of the blind Dhampyre. “I told you I would take it off in three pieces. We'll just get the ass-half of you clear and then we can work on the annoying part.” The putrid pile was deposited in the waiting trash can with a dull, wet thud. It was just as awful a noise to the ears as the stench was to the nose. The greater demon moved around behind the seated Dhampyre to urge him up so as to continue, humming along as he worked to a tune Trevor could not identify.
While the Vampyre was preoccupied, the unsteady Dhampyre, now free of the bloated flesh from his face, began to claw around inside his mouth, reaching two fingers far in whilst making a choking and gagging noise. That was followed by a terribly unpleasant and strained sound that ended when the struggling thing managed to hack up and pull free what honestly... Kind of looked like the intestinal lining used to make sausages. So it seemed like sausages were forever off the menu for Trevor Belmont, going forward. Trevor winced at the red-stained smears left as it's dangling ends brushed across the newly freed rejuvenated chest of the Dhampyre, but kept his eyes on the poor blind thing's face to gauge if he was suffocating on the regurgitated scar tissue, and if the Hunter would need to intervene. That's when it hit him. Scar tissue. If the Dhampyre had been been burned by water as suspected, it made sense that he would have likely swallowed plenty of it. The burns down his throat would look no different than the burns upon his flesh had been. The Dhampyre must be vomiting up the lining of his own scarred organs. How awful the demon must feel... Trevor was left with only empathy, remembering times of great illness as a child, and what it felt like to retch so violently. Even relieved of the tissue, the Dhampyre continued to suffer coughing fits.
“Please be careful not to give me a bald patch.” Throat now cleared, the Dhampyre pleaded in a deeply coarse voice around his coughs. “Please don't ruin my hair, I am begging you.”
The Vampyre chuckled in that richly pleasant way of his, but once he'd gathered himself, he made sure to make a soothing noise as he discarded the 'ass-half' of the Dhampyre with the front, and started to thread the cap of mangled flesh down the shafts of the younger demon's hair. He was careful not to pull any of the strands out while he did the tedious task. “This isn't my first rodeo, Kitten. You know that. How about a single 'thank-you' in place of your constant whines and requests? This is exactly why I left you gagged on your own innards, you know. I don't care for listening to you complain once it comes time to give you your vision back.”
“You're pulling too hard. You'll tear some.” The chastened Dhampyre murmured instead in a stronger voice, reaching blindly for the stool behind him before he sat back down. “I really hate that part. The eyeball part. It's why I always try not to get shit in my eyes. Like acid. Or your claws.” Further whining amongst the hacking came once he was safely settled. “You sticking your fingers in there is worse than the actual ass-kicking that gets me into these situations.”
More absentminded soothing noises came out of the Vampyre as he worked. He was nearly close to threading the last of the fetid flesh cap free of the Dhampyre's mane. “My claws only ever go in your eyes for medical purposes, and you know that well. You are also well aware that I am quite fond of the way the moonlight reflects in those amber irises, so it is in my best interest to spare them during our little lover's spats. They are your best feature, Kitten.”
“Lover's spats, oh right.” The Dhampyre managed to scoff with his straining voice. “That is not what Leila calls them. Or the Great Mother. Or literally, anyone who isn't you, Joachim. They are just disagreements that require some work to reach a compromise. Sometimes they devolve into full blown arguments. Sometimes I may feel like I need to hit you so you'll listen to me, but I don't. You're the one who gets handsy with me first.”
“It is not being handsy to touch my own things, Kitten.” The Vampyre sighed, giving the last tug needed to free the skull-cap of rotten skin perhaps far more harshly than what was required. It pulled a yelp and a whimper out of the Dhampyre that the Vampyre returned with a satisfied smirk. “How many times must I tell you that touch is the most natural part of a Desire demon's communication repertoire, you idiot. We're not really having a conversation at all unless we're fully communicating in the method our nature intends. The problem is that you insist upon only using your words. Words are misconstrued, misinterpreted, chosen poorly at times, and are a poor substitute for the pure communication of our species. When we are having our disagreements, I am driven to touch you in order to help you understand why I am disagreeing with you, and to better understand myself what your desire is. Getting violent in return when I do so is just your way of saying you don't care about what I am trying to tell you, or explaining your point more clearly to me, and that you don't want to even try and reach a mutual understanding.” The Vampyre stood quite suddenly, tossing the last of the rotten flesh in the overfull waste bin, and took a heavy, clearly agitated step around to face the front of the Dhampyre. It didn't seem like he cared the younger demon was blind or not, he just wanted to glare at him head on for his own sake. “I am going to chalk this ungratefulness up to the fact that you climbed out of your grave too early, rather then my suspicion that your are being an absolute ingrate for either ingratitude's sake, or your own wounded pride. You'd think you'd at least wait for me to finish the job before you started running your mouth. I do not have to help you, you know. I want to. You just always insist upon making everything so difficult and if you can pull it off, on trying my patience!”
“When have I ever say I was not thankful for your help?” The Dhampyre spat.
“The real question is when have you ever said you were?” The Vampyre shot back.
“I am grateful.” Dhampyre murmured through grit teeth.
“Could you sound any less convincing?” The Vampyre sighed loudly, evidently giving up.
Could they sound any more like an old married couple? The Hunter wondered idly to himself.
“Forget it for now, Kitten. You've still a long road to recovery ahead of you. However, I need some Hellfire to burn your stinking flesh moult. Could you manage that for me, in-between giving me attitude for the heinous crime of providing you care and aid?”
“I am grateful!” The Dhampyre hissed again, sounding anything but. The fit of coughing the outburst caused certainly not helping. He did conjure up a ball of eldritch flame shortly after the outburst, of which the Vampyre used his essence to enclose and contain. “Look I...” A blind hand reached out to grab onto the Vampyre before him, but the greater demon moved away with what looked to be a touch of bitterness in his expression. “Joachim, I know it seems like I always--”
“After this filth is destroyed, I'll be back to take the scabs off your eyes, you spoiled brat.” Sighed an unamused Vampyre, cutting the Dhampyre off. Without waiting for a reply, he gathered up the spilling bucket of flesh and strode right out of the bathroom and by the squeaky door sound, out into the backyard uncaring of his state of undress, orb of contained Hellfire following closely behind.
Trevor sat perfectly still and quiet, studying the form of a renewed Adrian, his white flesh smooth save the maroon and burgundy indentations where holy silver must have pressed into him for long lengths of time. Other than those marks, his scarred over eyes, and the reddish jelly strings running the length of his nude form, the only other difference between the Adrian that had flown away that morning weeks ago and this one, was a rather regal-looking beard. It was the same white-silver that his soft curls were, right up to having little hints of gold in it when his head turned in the light – just so – to highlight them. Regal-looking, but still in a strange way... Sort of rugged. Like a mountain man. A Mountain King. The Hunter thought, with a smirk. Like mighty Jupiter or Saturn, sitting high in the heavens on his throne... Only on a stool in a bathroom in a Japanese garden home. Stranger still was that even after witnessing the entirety of the foul putrid production that freed this renewed Adrian, as Trevor's eyes lowered their gaze from the beard to the light dusting trail of hair from his navel and below to that very same colour between his legs... After all of the vile sights and smells he'd endured as a silent observer... The Hunter made a promise to both of them, King and vassal, he knew he was going to keep in short order.
First chance he got, Trevor Christopher Belmont was going to climb that fucking mountain and take that crown for himself.
“Well, fuck.” The Dhampyre whispered to himself with a shake of the head. A hand rubbed against his chest in an effort to sooth the next string of wet sounding wheezing. His voice was still strained and coarse when he added dismissively. “I'm sure he'll get over it. He always does.”
The Mountain King, having evidently had enough of sitting around waiting for Joachim, reached out with nothing but repetition and muscle memory to guide him, and found the nozzles for the shower. He played with them, making no noise even when what must have been a freezing stream began to rain down, before the hot water heated up enough to produce steam. Then there was a sigh of relief once the sticky, stringy substance coating his skin started to wash free. For a while he just sat in the hot downpour, and Trevor wondered if Adrian was just enjoying the sensation, or if there was something he was thinking about in particular. His expression was kind of troubled and the Hunter wondered if he should make his presence known... Clearly Adrian didn't know he was steps away. He wondered why the Dhampyre hadn't caught his scent yet, but then also wondered if like the lining of his throat, Adrian needed to equally clear his nasal passage of scar tissue. Trevor didn't do anything in the end, however, but sit silently and watch Adrian do the same. Admiring his Adonis restored. Unlike the Dhampyre, Trevor Belmont was grateful to the Vampyre for the view.
Joachim's return was without much fanfare. His mood was clearly still soured slightly, but it seemed like he was putting himself aside for the time being to instead focus on Adrian's well-being. As he passed by and gave Trevor a tight smile, the Hunter reached out and took his hand, halting him temporarily. Like the second nature it was at this point, he eased into the Vampyre's touch and their essence entwined effortlessly. A simple and pure connection made, he let the demon feel how grateful he was, and not just to make up for Adrian's apparent lack. Trevor both felt and could see Joachim's agitation was metaphysically shoved to the wayside so that a warmth could be shared back. 'You're welcome', it conveyed loud and clear, with a hint of satisfaction beneath. Trevor gave the demon his own small smile and released him to tend to his other pet.
Tend to he did, stepping into the steamy spray to catch the Dhampyre's head in his hands. “All right, let's get this over with, quick and dirty.”
“Wait I-” Adrian attempted to stall, but Joachim was having none of it.
“There is no point in procrastination. It's not going to make the next handful of minutes any more bearable, and will only serve to draw out the dread on your part.”
“I'm not procrastinating, I just want to-”
“I would like to clean your rotting corpse juices off of my person, so let's just get this over with.” The Vampyre insisted, now getting Adrian in a headlock. It was obvious by the amount of fidgeting and whimpering the Dhampyre made that this extreme method was a necessary step preceding the Vampyre surgically scraping the scabs from the poor younger demon's corneas. Trevor had to look away, as much as he wanted to suffer in solidarity. The reluctant noises of fear coming out of his Mountain King were more than enough. “Hush now, my Little One... We are almost done. You're doing so well, my little kitty-cat. I know it's awful, but being blinded unnecessarily for the rest of your life would be the worse option, right? Think of all the things you would never get to behold again. You would never be able to sip coffee and sketch the skylines again, for one thing.”
“St-st-stop! I can't...” Adrian's pained voice hissed out as his weak arms pushed against the iron grip.
Much to the Dhampyre's surprise as their silent observer's, Joachim released his head, only to pull the injured demon into a full embrace, rocking him gently from side to side. “There we are, my Little One... All done, sweet Prince. I can hardly even tell you're crying as well, thanks to the shower. You have plausible deniability for a later disagreement of ours.” With a small laugh, Joachim released Adrian once he was certain the younger demon was steady, and turned to toss shampoo into his outstretched hands before getting the soap for himself. “Start with your hair. I'm sure you still have pieces of skin in it. Your vision will likely be blurred for a few days still, so I'll give you a once over when you're done to make sure you got it all.”
Adrian's face screwed up in confusion as he played with the bottle in his hands, fumbling for the cap. “I wasn't procrastinating.” He reiterated to a Vampyre who didn't seem to be listening to him at all. “And I wasn't trying to be ungrateful.” Joachim had cleaned himself so briskly and methodically, he was now reaching out to snap open the shampoo and take some before leaving the bottle back with Adrian, all while the younger demon struggled to find his words. “You are not wrong, though I hate to admit it... I was taking the first opportunity to lash out. It's... Pride. Wounded pride. And guilt. I've really...” Adrian's nervous fumbling paired with another deep rasping fit caused him to drop the shampoo. Left with empty hands, he simply hugged himself and turned his head away, sucking in his lower lip to chew absentmindedly, as was a habit of the Dhampyre in uncertain or unsettling times. Trevor supposed he may have adopted his own self-abusive lip gnawing habit from watching Adrian.
Joachim studied the other demon while rinsing his hair before he leaned down to retrieve the bottle with yet another long sigh. “Hmm... What am I to do with you?” Liquid silver pondered out loud as the greater demon stepped behind Adrian to work his hair into a lather. While methodical in approach and coverage, the touch lingered what seemed almost lovingly as the Dhampyre was given more or less a scalp massage. “You almost died, Adrian. I do not need an apology from you for being erratic after what you've suffered through. Just a promise that you will heed my advice in the future once and for all. Especially when I speak from experience.”
“It's more than that, Joachim. How badly I've fucked up this time...” There was a deep sorrow in Adrian's glassy eyes now, and it pulled at Trevor's heartstrings the way his oval shaped nails dug into the flesh on his arms. “I... I'm not sure what to do, or how to resolve it.”
“Well...” The Vampyre tilted his own head in thought as he tipped Adrian's back to both rinse and inspect it for any stray slivers of rotted debris. “You truly did climb out of your coffin too soon. Your nerve-endings have not even grown back yet. I would suggest whatever great introspection you require can be done whilst you continue to rest and recover at least that far. Hard to tell if and how you're being attacked without your nerve-endings responding. I am speaking from experience here as well.” Satisfied the hair passed the cleanliness test, the Vampyre moved on to lather up a cloth to clean his charge's body next. “Once you can actually feel things again, we're leaving for the Commune. There will be no argument or compromise about that. You can do all the soul-searching and problem solving you feel you need to do about whatever is eating you up inside from the comforts of your actual home.”
“I'm sorry but I think... I think I do need to ask a compromise.” Adrian replied in a small voice, stealing a blurred look in Joachim's direction with a plaintive expression worn openly.
“If it's a choice of which airline you prefer to fly, perhaps. But otherwise...”
That response pulled a bitter sound that was somewhere between a whine and a chuckle out of Adrian, and the Dhampyre shook his head. “Before I can go home, I believe I need to speak with the Iron Maiden. I need to report what happened and I need to hand this off to the Church. It's beyond my ability to keep contained and low profile now. I have failed to protect us from the fallout of this, and more so, I may have doomed us to Chaos.”
The statement was made with such deathly seriousness, Joachim paused from where he knelt, hands and washcloth frozen mid-glide down a long leg, to stare up at his younger counterpart. “You're not joking.” The Vampyre murmured almost as if to himself. “That red-band tabloid rag run by those little arcane stalkers of yours have an article out about the Demon Prince quite recently. Reporting that you've cancelled dozens of functions and appearances which is quite out of character for the dedicated workaholic that is Ambassador Țepeș. If your first public appearance after months of silence is showing up on the Iron Maiden's doorstep without prior notice, you're going to create an incident, Kitten. People are going to talk and speculate, and wonder why you came out of a hiatus and went straight to the enemy.”
“They are not enemies, Joachim.”
“To a lot of your people, who look up to you and are counting on you... Yes, Kitten. They still are. And this is not going to look good in the eyes of our kind. If I didn't know you so well, I'd be afraid we have another crack-down coming on demons and devils and everyone in between.”
“We do not. I won't allow things to go that far but it can't be helped that I must seek her assistance. I can't fix this alone. I tried to get rid of them before they made a blip on the Church's radar but this whole thing has just grown into a whole other beast... One I can't slay by myself any longer. And now that I have lost my... I-I have no choice but to bite the bullet and submit to Liza's help...”
Joachim pursed his lips with a non-committal noise, and returned to washing the troubled man, sparing a long look in Trevor's direction whilst he did so. Lips turning downward into a frown the longer he looked in the Hunter's direction, the Vampyre finally turned back towards Adrian and asked rather abruptly. “Do you intend to take my Little One with you into that viper's nest?”
The question shocked Adrian out of his inward contemplation, and the Dhampyre let out another pained, defeated cough and whine. “My heart is breaking for him, but Trevor is involved in all of this. He was their main sacrifice from the beginning, and without him they cannot proceed with their original plans. It's not that I want to... But I believe I have to. There are too many unknowns about his circumstances and presence here and I feel it's more prudent than ever that I have to get him...” The Dhampyre struggled to find his next word, but settled on one that Joachim's expression revealed the Vampyre did not appreciate at all. “Examined.” A sad little sigh was expelled before he continued. “I won't allow them to take him out of my sight even once while on the premises, that will be one of my conditions for certain. No matter what, he will be walking out of there with me if and when I choose to.” Then, as if just realizing how the original question was phrased, Adrian's sheepishness turned into suspicion. “Now explain to me, just what exactly do you mean by your little one? And while I am thinking about it, just what exactly is going on between you two? All I could feel while I was drifting in and out was your faint energy signals and they were like... One combined beacon. I could hardly tell you apart. You better tell me you were apart and you haven't done anything weird to him.”
“Well that little green monster of yours didn't take very long to show up... Still, don't change the subject, halfbreed. I have done nothing with my pretty little Rabbit that I have not also tried to achieve instructing you. The Little One is just a much better student, that's all. He's quite impressively come along leagues ahead of you in such a short span of time, and I will not have your petty jealousy halt his progress. That little bud is just starting to bloom beautifully on the vine.”
“The subject is absolutely about this now. He's not blooming on any vines of yours, he is not a tomato, Joachim.” Adrian shot back, now openly annoyed along with suspicious. “Nor is he a rabbit, a cabbage, or your fucking student. Trevor isn't yours. I am the one who loves him! He was my first friend, my first kiss, my first everything, and he is back... And mine!” The Dhampyre bit out, taking hold of the Vampyre's shoulders. “And for the last time in six hundred years, I am not your goddamn cat!”
The silence that stretched out after Adrian's outburst was deafening. Trevor now wrapped his own arms around his knees and shrunk into himself, unnerved and confused about what was being spoken of. Who was this Iron Maiden and why did Joachim detest her so much? It couldn't just be because she was affiliated with the Church, as he seemed to like and accept Yoko well enough. Why would it be that if Adrian was required to meet with her, it was going to be such a scandal? Why was it that Joachim seemed to think Trevor having to go with Adrian to meet this woman was so risky? Why did Adrian seem to believe Trevor needed to be examined by this Church higher-up? What would the examination entail? Would it be... Painful? Or dangerous? Was that why Joachim appeared to be against it right out of the gate? The Vampyre had shown himself to be protective of the Hunter numerous times now... Should he not trust that Joachim's concern was valid? Even when weighed against Adrian's decision? His Adonis. His love. The Hunter wasn't sure he wanted to pick sides without knowing all the facts, and even then, he wasn't so sure he wanted to be caught in the middle of this lover's spat.
On a more selfish and personal level, he didn't like how poorly the two demons tried to communicate, and was uncomfortable with them seemingly at one another's throats so easily. From an outward looking in perspective, Trevor was sort of in agreement with Joachim, thought he still really didn't want to take a side. It was Adrian who was quick to anger and obstinate. He wondered about the intermittent and broken connection he had kept failing to maintain with Adrian while his sleeping beauty had lay in the sarcophagus, and compared it against how easy it was to sync-up with Joachim. Trevor never had to guess the Vampyre's intentions, nor Joachim have to assume his. Did the Vampyre also have that same difficulty with the Dhampyre, entwining their essence? Was that why Adrian was so quick to anger and suspicion with Joachim nearly all the times he had seen them interact together? Because Adrian could not see the benign humour in Joachim's teasing, or feel that earnestness in the demon when he was honestly trying to understand the Dhampyre?
This Demon Hierarchy of theirs says the greater of the two demons is in charge. Perhaps the positions can be challenged and exchanged, arranged in a new order. Adrian certainly seems to be trying his luck in that regard... Or it is just as Joachim has said... He is a too lenient Master, who has failed to get through to his lesser, and spoiled him rotten in the process. Regardless, I am the human pet here, so bottom rung, I guess. That must be why they feel they can decide what I am to do or who I am to adhere to. The Hunter studied the two snarling demons before him. One he loved more than anything, and the other he felt an ever growing deeply rooted affection for. The two looked to be about to come to blows over the simple, plain, useless little human in their midst. There was no need for it. Trevor knew where he belonged... It was where he chose to be. He wanted to be here with them both, not simply caught in-between them, pushing things apart at the seams. Fabric was forgiving, and Trevor could sew himself the space if they gave him the time. If they would only calm down for a moment and allow him the luxury to work at it. I didn't think I was going to have to break up a fight this evening...
Thankfully, he was not required to. The cooler head of the two headstrong demons prevailed, and the Vampyre broke free of the younger demon's grip without escalation of violence.
“You are having another emotionally charged tantrum, my Kitten. Torture and attempted murder have not left you in the soundest state of mind, that has been made quite clear. I will also forgive you this one, but my patience is wearing very thin for your antics, be warned.”
“I am not-”
Joachim let out such an aggravated sounding noise, it silenced the Dhampyre immediately. “But you are, Kitten, having a needless tantrum over nothing and changing the subject out of petty jealousy. You do not own Trevor, because you have not even marked him as I have marked you. I've shown you how when you submit to me, but still after all these years of pining and whining and then this miracle reconciliation, you continue to leave him without your protection or commitment. If anything, thank me for keeping him in your stead. Being what you are, halfbreed, you of all people should know how much the Little One is a snack just waiting to be gobbled up by the next demon that crosses his path. All while you refuse to – allow me to borrow the human phrase – put a ring on it!” Adrian was left working his mouth wordlessly, while Joachim carried on. “Getting back to the real topic at hand, you have made your point, and I will agree to your compromise only because I can smell the deep desperation all over you. We will stop in Wallachia before we return to our home and you will meet the snakes in their gathering pit. But if you will be insistent upon the Little One's presence, then I will be insisting that I accompany you on this little field trip. You have indeed stressed the importance of keeping the Rabbit safe, and I do not trust the Church not to attempt keeping him for their little science experiments.” Agitation now conveyed clearly, the Vampyre's tone smoothed out as he added in a softer, gentler voice, full of that earnestness that if Adrian could only feel, he would know was genuine. “Nor do I trust the Iron Maiden's cronies with you, Adrian.”
“I...” Adrian shook his head, and threw up his hands, as if giving up. The lower lip he'd been chewing on was starting to look much like Trevor's, so the Hunter was happy to see the Vampyre reach out to make him stop abusing it. “I'm... Sorry. I really don't know what is the right course of action, and that's not your fault. It's fear... I love him, Joachim. I just love him so much... I can't bear to lose him again. No matter what I do next, I feel like I am risking that.”
“I know, Kitten, and it will be all right.” The Vampyre soothed, shutting off the water. “You have such a terribly human way of looking at things sometimes, but you are forgiven of that for now.” Silver eyes now looking back towards the waiting Hunter, Joachim continued to explain so matter of factually. “The pretty Rabbit adores you unquestionably, and he seems quite content in his role, rest assured. He has begun to find himself, and that is a beautiful thing requiring encouragement. All that is left now is for you, Kitten, to find contentment and comfort in yours. Trevor Belmont is home when alongside us, and he now understands what that truly means. He is happy to finally be home, and so could you, Kitten, if you allowed yourself the luxury.”
I am home... Trevor repeated to himself as he watched the demons dry themselves off with the fluffy white towels, freshly laundered. They were the last two towels left in the garden home. He was still confused about many details of what had just transpired before him. What did it mean, that Adrian had yet to mark him, for one. Even with all the new questions and apprehensions he had concerning this Iron Maiden and what was going to be waiting for him when Adrian took him to the Church, Trevor did feel that warmth and comfort from the knowledge that yes... He had found a new home in this new world, with both someone from his past and someone from this new future. In a way, it was almost poetic how his current situation was book-ended with these vastly differing but still incredibly similar demons. They were safety. They are... home.
“Come over here, Little One. Take a good look at the progress our Kitten has made in his recovery.” Came a clear command in a confident voice.
Adrian half flinched, folding himself further into his towel. “How long..?” He asked vaguely towards the greater demon.
Trading another look with Trevor, Joachim gave the Hunter a winning smile as he did not lie through his fangs so much as he omitted the truth. “He's here now, Kitten. He looks good and quite eager to see you. What did I say about floor naps? They never hurt a soul.”
There was a lot to talk about and think about and worry about... Trevor's mind was quickly becoming another swirling vortex of new concerns and fears to replace all the ones he had just been relieved of, of course. There was hardly ever a moment's relief from his incessant worries and fears. There was never rest for the tireless thoughts of Trevor Belmont, always on high alert for the next obsessive fixation. But in that very moment, commanded to step into the embrace of what was quickly becoming the core pillar of stability and safety in his world, Trevor left all those fears upon the bathroom floor as he climbed to his feet in order to comply. Shaky feet carried him those few steps into the humid shower stall where he collapsed first against Joachim, if only to take him along his path when he climbed into Adrian's lap.
Adrian's arms fit so perfectly around him, like they always had and if he had a say in the matter, like they always would. Never before Adrian had he known what it was like to feel protected by another on every level of his being, be it physical or emotional. Never before had he wanted to show himself so clearly to another. To be seen openly for what he was. He wanted Adrian to see him... Needed him to. Needed Adrian to see this fragile, miserable little pile of secrets and shames and tell him it was all right to be like this. That Adrian was all right with him being like this. This new, worse version of him that was so far from the one Adrian had come to know on their journey together.
When the demon he'd pulled along with him also closed his arms around Trevor's back, arms curling across him to also hold Adrian, Trevor realized he had been mistaken. There was a more perfect feeling... This was it. His essence entwined easily with the Vampyre's, sharing relief and gratitude, wrapped in that metaphysical cozy, heavy blanket. An epiphany struck, like lightning through his veins in that perfect moment, revealing the heart of his misgivings and fears. That he uquetionably loved Adrian with every fibre of his being, but with Joachim's light now shining on the recesses of his heart, he could finally admit that he wasn't quite sure Adrian would love him as much, if the Dhampyre could only see Trevor for the conflicted, wretched thing that he currently was. Would Adrian find him worthy if he could only see? If they could connect and bare everything as Joachim had shown him how to?
With Joachim's essence humming through his veins, the Hunter stumbled back upon that epiphanous question to reexamine clumsily how he'd come about it, following the tendrils back to the source. The answer was plainly there, not hiding at all. He'd just been so self-absorbed in misery to even entertain the notion. Too afraid to even look much less admit. The Vampyre was too unquestionably in love with the Dhampyre. He had been for centuries, and that could be felt in his aura when it slid against Adrian's. But there was more love to be found than there had been before. It was humming through Trevor's veins along with the other demon's essence. Joachim now held love for him too. Genuine love, that seemed to be growing steadily. He had peeked inside Trevor, saw all the ugliness inside, accepted it, and returned only love. Exactly what Trevor was hoping Adrian could do for him, and terrified of what would happen if Adrian could not.
Through that precious connection Trevor felt unconditional acceptance come through loud and clear, as if responding to his desire and worries, and then it truly dawned on the time-displaced Hunter of old. He already was seen, and he already had been given permission to be just how he was. That he was soft and fragile and every other undesirable trait both a Lord and a so-called Hero were not supposed to be, never mattered. Nor did it matter that he'd slipped even further into the mire than he had before facing Dracula. Nor would it matter if he ever managed to climb out or just continued to slip further. Joachim thought so, and his energy did it's best to convince Trevor that Adrian would feel the same.
Now, for the first time in who could say how long, Trevor Belmont felt like he could finally stop backsliding, held in place as he was between these two powerful, noble beings. Maybe with their support, he'd find a way back to himself that didn't feel like a surrender, or a poorly fitted mask. He'd be able to lay himself openly for all to see, even himself, and finally reconstruct his being to live as he always wished he could. There was a more perfect place for him to find just on the horizon, he was certain now, and he felt just as convinced that the path to that perfection lay with the ones surrounding him right then. If he could connect with Adrian the same way he was of one being with the Vampyre just now... If Adrian could only know him and still love him...
If Adrian could... Then that is what would be the most perfect feeling to exist in and revel, in Trevor's mind.
But wait a minute, would this not mean that I am also..?
The Hunter held his breath, snug and secure between two larger bodies, but suddenly all too aware that he had perhaps been acting disingenuous and oblivious, and possibly even cruel. On the cusp of enlightenment, he studied the electricity passing between the connection and grew still as his mind put the pieces in proper order so as to see what exactly he was returning the Vampyre's affections with.
No... No way. His mind refused staunchly at first. I can't be. I mean, it would be par for the course for an admitted adulterer like me, but I just can't...
In his arms, Adrian felt so warm... Hot to the touch, even. His Adonis struggled to break free of his embrace so as to suffer through the worse of the wet coughing fits of the night thus far. Struggling to catch his breath, going so far as to slip limply from the stool. Trevor caught and saved him from toppling to the tile, but the Dhampyre wouldn't open his eyes or respond otherwise. He looked back wide-eyed towards the other demon only to find him shaking his head and rolling his silver eyes.
“I told Kitten he climbed out of bed too early. Do not fret, Little One. He just needs a floor nap.” With a coy smile, he added. “But if you would like to tuck him into bed, that will do as well.”
Trevor found his breath was quick, adrenaline pumping. Whatever self-truth he was on the brink of working through was long gone, replaced by his new shock and concern. He carried the dead weight out into the waiting bedroom and covered Adrian up with the crisp linen, feeling the warmth radiate through the thick fabric. A touch to his brow confirmed it could be nothing else but a fever. Funny... Trevor did not know a Moroi class demon could get sick with fever. But then again, Adrian was also half human. Trevor retrieved the damp washcloth and placed it on his brow, before laying down beside the sleeping, suffering thing to watch him wheeze in his passed out state.
It was all too much for one evening. What had started out pleasant and fun had turned nightmarish, and now nothing short of miraculous yet mystifying. There really was only so much a single heart could take, swinging from such extremes. The confusion, the questions, the attack by his devilish twin, and now this little hiccup in Adrian's recovery, they had all taken their toll. Dimly he was aware Joachim was saying something to him as the demon dressed, but Trevor couldn't make heads or tails of it. It was pure exhaustion taking the lead now. He'd had enough for one day, so he closed his eyes and shifted closer to Adrian's warm body, letting the mildly laboured breathing and heat carry him off to dreamlands beyond. Where a Hunter and a Dhampyre lived in a little house in the mountains, and children and grandchildren and even Vampyres came to visit often.
Well maybe the Vampyre lived there too. Trevor was open to creative living arrangements.
In the dream, Adrian and he sat watching the treetops bend in the winds. It was autumn and the scent of fallen leaves was carried on that breeze as they huddled together under a blanket. They did not exchange words, because they didn't need to. They just knew all they had to say through that beautiful electric connection.
Adrian's essence entwined alongside his own.
It was nothing short of perfect.
Notes:
Ahh, another short chapter! Finally!
Chapter 43: Three's Company
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
A blurred white shock of colour greeted the unprepared Dhampyre, awakened violently to a sputtering cough, as he was choking on thick phlegm. What followed shortly thereafter was a sudden, solid, embarrassing faceplant as he miscalculated his spacial awareness and rolled over straight off of the bed. Only because he was on the wrong side of the mattress! He didn't usually sleep on the left side. Yeah, that was what he was going to blame this on. Absolved of fault or not, the flop onto the hard surface had knocked what little wind he'd had straight out of him, so he decided upon wallowing with the laundry list of dulled aches and pains in solitary floor confinement would suit him just fine for the time being. Dhampyres weren't exactly 'morning people', after all.
Turning over on his side with more effort than it should have taken towards the entrance to his washroom, Alucard took stock of what his damaged and numbed nerves were trying to feed back to his system. Top of the complaints list would have to be the awful pressure inside his skull that only intensified with every cough, hack and sputter. A terrible itching in his throat and chest definitely coming in as a close second. A thick, parched sensation all over his mouth and gums from a night full of mouth-breathing was a clear contender for third. That last one was an easy enough fix, however. He just needed to get himself up off the floor and into his washroom. Completely in the realm of his capabilities, right?
In theory, it was. Alucard instead was forced resorting to kind of half-dragging and half-crawling his way over there in the end, cursing the fact that he'd forgotten the sink had been smashed in a fight, which further necessitated him to have to crawl towards the toilet and use that to climb to his feet instead. Of which he then put his goddamn hand in the reservoir while trying to balance, because he had also forgotten he used the lid of it as a blunt force object in that exact same fight. It was clean water in the reservoir, but still. Putting his hand in the toilet was just another embarrassing insult to add to this disastrous morning.
Coughing instead when he tried to sigh, the Dhampyre squinted in an attempt to ascertain if his toothbrush was still where it should be. It thankfully was, as was the toothpaste, so he took the small win and shuffled along with the items in hand into the shower stall, intent on finishing up the last bit of moulting required in private. It rankled him to be seen in an undignified manner – even if the one seeing it was an understanding fellow Moroi who'd gone through a similar shedding numerous times – so he was glad to be alone for the next part. Grimacing, he dug carefully around the entrances to his ears and nostrils, getting a suitable grip to pull clear the scar tissue and rinsing what he could with soap and water. Tap water up your nose was quite unpleasant, but so was a rotten smell and residual goop. The rub was he knew he had a saline solution in the home somewhere for specifically this scenario, but with his blurred vision who knew how long it would take to find it without having to resort to asking for help from Joachim. Which would defeat the whole point of wanting to be alone to get the gross affair over and done with.
So just get it over with. He nodded to himself followed by another grit of his teeth at the dull burn. With that finally behind him, he was more than happy to brush his teeth and rinse everything free down the shower stall. The scar tissue debris he burned with Hellfire and was happy to swish the ash out of his life as well. It felt good to be normal and clean again. Almost normal... His eyesight was still a work in progress. But free now of most aftereffects of what had been done to him against his will, it was only once he'd stood back up and leaned against the cool tiled wall for support did his grim new reality truly hit home.
Alucard had been imprisoned.
He'd never before... Suffered like that. The unpredictable pain and torture from a faulty containment spell. The constant threat and reality of being consumed by another demon at it's lustful whims. Feeling trapped in hopelessness for the lengths of time he truly had.. He'd never suffered any of those things prior to this experience. He had never wanted to give up before... But now that he had lost the Stones... He'd lost the battle. He was a failure, just as surely as if he had surrendered. War may very well be on the horizon unless the Iron Maiden could help him now. But even then, what would the cost of his failure be? Would Eliza and her organization utilize discretion and be sensitive to the greater plight of docile demons, if and when they had to swoop in and save the day? Especially when it would be a wonderfully timed bolster to their dwindling influence and funding from the world governments they'd been contending with? Nearly four decades had spanned since Dracula's defeat, and humans were oh so quick to forget their history and who they should be thankful towards. Would not this incident be proof enough that demonkind, whether a select group and he insist that they could be peaceful or not, could never, in grim reality, manage their own sufficiently, and they needed the Church to oversee and regulate them? Alucard could picture the headlines now and the battery of public inquisitions he would be called to answer. He would have to stand in front of more demons brethren, devils and other outcasts like himself and apologize... Because of him, they may never get the equality and trust they deserved in many of their lifetimes. Even if he were to throw himself on their swords in supplication, he could not take back the harm his hubris would bring down upon their just cause.
It... Cannot be helped. That was what was so disheartening and demoralizing. That he'd tried, and while he did not always succeed at everything he put his mind to, when it really mattered...? Usually, he came through when it really was life or death. Except this time... He had not. There was no one else to blame either. He should have been more careful. He should have been more strategic, and used all his resources. If he had taken even a moment longer to reconsider, he may have sought help from Julius or Yoko. They may have talked him out of it, or talked him into a better more rational approach. But he had been blinded by his great love, and that emotion twisted by his Pride and Ego into something selfish and monstrous. Something foolish and vengeful. The subjugation and possible deaths he's caused the Yōsei he'd forced under his command was utterly reprehensible. And then there was the abandonment... He'd been asked... Begged, really... To stay. His sweet love had just wanted and wished for him to stay by the Hunter's side. His Pride had not allow him to grant the request. As if his Pride should have tipped the scales so heavily when weighed against the simple, sweet desire of Trevor's. The Hunter had just wanted Alucard to...
Trevor! His mind broke from the tangled webs to work over his last conscious memory. He had been having another exhaustive, combative discussion with Joachim, still blind and with muffled hearing, when Trevor had climbed into his lap. The last kiss he'd given the Hunter in the garden felt like years long passed. In a prison at the bottom of a lake, all he'd had to hold onto were the dreams and memories of better days spent playing house and walking the village with the handsome, debonair man at his side, and then the beautiful, sultry woman climbing into his bed at better nights. The duality of Trevor Belmont gracing the Dhampyre with his presence, his smiles, and even submitting to his games. A painful lament in the dark cold cage was that he may not live to make any more wistful memories with the one man he loved. He really, truly had feared those memories would all he would have... But Trevor had come for him. Trevor had saved him. And now the last thing he could recall was not a fantasy or a memory of centuries passed. It was of scant hours ago, when the greatest treasure he owned had climbed back into his lap exactly where it belonged, and where the fool Moroi should have kept him.
A fit had struck him at the most inopportune time, and the desire to not cough all over that precious irreplaceable treasure had been strong. Then... He had to have blacked out or something. There was nothing left to that memory after the laboured struggle for air.
But Trevor had been there in the flesh. It was no illusion born of despair, nor wishful fantasy; The man really had been there in his arms. It stood to reason that Trevor must still be around, then, right? Inhaling deeply with a nose still not up to par, he caught fresh notes of sweetened earth and sky, the source of which was coming from back in the bedroom. Like a drunk man, he stumbled blindly into the bright white light, blinking hard to force the blurred images into intermittent moments of passable clarity. In the middle of the bed was a shape distinguishable from the sheets and blankets, and he found himself crawling over the mattress to sit by it's side, straining himself to stare at the warm colours on the white linen until they settled into the familiar shape. It was... Trevor. Sleeping. The Hunter had been resting peacefully at his side the whole time. They were back together... In spite of all his failures, and the looming catastrophe hot on his heels, he'd been graced with yet another miraculous reunion.
Alucard's vision blurred again, but it may have been in part thanks to some tears this time and not solely his scratched corneas at fault. Once those were wiped aside and he forced the colours to settle once more back into shape, he reached out to run his hand along the side of a smooth face. The skin on the Hunter's cheeks felt healthy and supple, and not at all hollowed out like they had been when Alucard had abandoned him in the garden. Encouraged, he ran that same hand down the man's side, finding his ribs no longer jutting, and his hip bone no longer a sharp knob stabbing through his paper thin flesh. He followed the path back up by sliding his palm along the Hunter's arms. Wrist and forearm also filled in and restored, if touch was to be believed. It was a little hard to say definitively, given that his nerves were numbed and everything he did with his hands felt like he was doing so with oven mitts on. The slope of muscle was as memory of six hundred years passed served, to the best of his abilities to tell, and that filled his heart with joy. That Trevor was healthy again. Driven by adoration, he ran his hand through the chestnut locks of hair and halted mid-way, perplexed as his fingers caught on a hair ornament of sorts. He leaned in to better study something glittering in the sunlight, tracing his fingers along the band to discover it was some kind of... animal shaped decoration. Tiny outlined ears were on top... Pointy... Rabbit? Yes, definitely that. It was a little bunny rabbit hairband.
“What in the world are you wearing, Trevor?” He whispered while still running his hands along it. Glittery bunny ears, of all things. Then again... It might be cute if he could see it clearly. “Well, you're my kind of playboy bunny, if I had to choose.” He chuckled to himself, laying back down. He was becoming aware of a chill in his bones to add to his laundry list of complaints, so he nestled back into the bedding facing the sleeping Hunter and watched his blurred face while he pet the man's head, imagining that Trevor's expression was one calmed and trouble free. As Alucard wished dearly he could provide the proper environment that would allow Trevor to be just so.
He was fairly certain he'd dozed off. The light was well passed his window and shining from overhead when he opened his eyes again. Everything was still fuzzy, but Trevor was right where he had left the brunette beauty. Only he felt the weight of an arm crossed over his own. Trevor's hand lay along the side of his face as well now. They were mirrors of each other in their dreamy affection. It was not long after he realized a cool cloth was on his brow. Freshly moistened. Alucard was just reaching up for it to examine the possible purpose – Had he bled when he struck his head falling out of the bed? – when Trevor's hand reaching out to stop him pulled a gasp out of his ragged throat.
“Leave it.” The Hunter's hushed voice commanded.
He... He spoke. Alucard bit his lower lip to test if he was dreaming, and then again to stymie the tears when he realized that he was wide awake. He really spoke to me...
Trevor must have seen his vision well up as he was now sidling up closer to wipe each tear away as they fell with his thumbs, holding Alucard's head in his hands so sweetly. The Dhampyre wanted to say so many things to his treasure, up to and including screaming from the rooftops about how ecstatic he was the man was speaking again, but all he could do was lay there on his side and cry while his tears were wiped away dutifully and lovingly. Not even the coughing fit could take away from how warm and cared after he felt in that very moment. When next soft velvet was closing over his own dried and cracked lips, it counted even less. Pure vanity made him even in this joyous moment pause to be glad then that he had decided to brush his teeth. How on brand, as Yoko would have said.
Not satisfied for just the soft and chaste press of lips that had become their signature silent I Love You, Trevor deepened it into a proper kiss, still gentle and slow to start. Exploratory and considerate of his emotional state, and as if testing the waters for something more. Alucard felt like he was in a dream, though he knew he was not. To be back in his bed after everything that had happened, kissing Trevor in a sleepy afternoon light, was more than he could have ever hoped for. He was so lucky, in this moment. After all his failings, to still be granted this gift he did not deserve but would never refuse. Petal-soft lips and entreating tongue, moving against his own. Alucard would have been happy to stay in that state of bliss of eternity, but Trevor had other plans, driven apparently by much different urges, and encouraged by his positive reinforcement. He was rolled onto his back and the smaller man climbed over him, catching his slipping cloth to put back on his brow just as another hand was holding him firm to the mattress to better devour.
And that's what it was now. A feast for the Hunter, and the Dhampyre was all three courses and possibly dessert. Body aches and pounding pressure in his skull sliding onto the back-burner, the Dhampyre lay back and let himself enjoy what he could of the touch running playfully along his chest and sides, up and down his arms and into his hair. Faint impressions of what he should be feeling physically with a dulled central nervous system, but feeling each loving one emotionally to the fullest extent. His rasping cough did not deter Trevor, who would stroke his chest soothingly while kissing his neck or tracing the shell of his ear when each one came on until he'd manage to get them under control.
The Dhampyre decided then he wanted to be a little more active a participant in this dance, so he wormed his way up into a sitting position, intent on running his hands anywhere he could reach on Trevor. Before he could, the Hunter pushed him back against the headboard and climbed right back on top of him to pick up where he'd left off. It was fine, though. In this position Alucard had full access to strong, long legs and what he was extremely happy to find restored to it's former glory; A firm, round ass. Whoever had been feeding Trevor in his absence could have whatever they wanted under his power to provide for this gift of a perfect ass. Just so he wouldn't be accused of objectifying it, his did manage to take time to slide his oven mitts up the Hunter's back, noting the slight expanse of shoulders and more defined muscle than the last time he'd had this luxury to touch. Everything seemingly had a healthy barrier between skin and bone. His little treasure had been wonderfully repaired and maintained, just waiting for him to open his curio cabinet to take it back out for display.
You feel so good. He wanted to tell the brunette how happy he was, but he couldn't get a word in with Trevor's appetite out in full. A hungry mouth captured his own every time he parted his lips. The glittery headband catching the light mesmerized him when each brief time he did get an odd moment to breathe here and there. It was fine, however. Everything was fine. His hands were back on that ten out of ten ass, and Trevor must have liked the attention as he was now pressed up against his body so tightly, that even through the denim and with nerve-endings he was still regrowing, Alucard could feel the hard ridge of a very strained erection. Trevor was hot and heavy and ready for him. Desperate for him, even, if hitched, wet, breathy panting was any indication. The scent of arousal was thick.
...And it was the greatest insult and crime he'd ever suffered.
It didn't take long for Trevor to realize something was awry. One of his knees had slid right up between the Dhampyre's legs, as the lithe little thing had been – subconsciously or consciously who could really say – grinding up along his thigh forthe large part of this little tango. There was a stunning lack of reaction on his part downstairs. Really quite unusual for a Desire demon who was getting this much attention from such a desirable little incubus in their own right. Trevor was right to be baffled by his lack of appropriate response.
Blushing with an amalgamation of embarrassment, shame and disgruntlement, Alucard let out a long suffering sigh punctuated by a coughing fit, and fessed up. “This is really embarrassing, so I am going to just give it to you straight.” He started, giving another overtly self-conscious sigh. “It umm... Usually takes a couple of days to start working after I have a thorough enough ass-kicking that mandates I dirt-nap. I think it's just a part of the regenerative healing process, you know? Blood and energy having other more critical places to be.” Then adding for full disclosure. “I've never had to regrow my nerves before, however.. So... I really don't have a timeline for you. For uhh... When everything is back in working order.”
It was a pathetic revelation and he wanted to curl up and die after having confessed in full. The Hunter was so fucking ready for a ride and Alucard... Had a flat tire.
Up this close and personal, he could make out Trevor staring at him, blinking quickly and turning his head to the side as he worked over what had just been divulged. That little quizzical Belmont Pause and head tilt, done by the one person who was allowed to indulge in that peculiar quirk. Alucard was glad to see it from the rightful owner after suffering through so many poor imitations. Still glad to see it even when Trevor tilted his head back to normal and... Laughed.
What a musical, wondrous song to pass by his ears. How had he ever thought that vile woman had owned a melody even close to his Trevor's? What had been wrong with him? To hear the sound of the Hunter laughing was so glorious, it even pushed aside the rankling ire that it was at Alucard's expense Trevor found his amusement. For this one person, he was okay to play the fool.
Trevor pulled him in for an embrace, shoulders still shaking with a now better contained good humour. Hands were stroking the sides of his face, and smoothing down his hair. “It's okay. You have a fever, anyway.” The playful Hunter excused him, but slid up against his frame again in spite of his permissions, perhaps subconsciously seeking some relief from his aroused state, even if Alucard was not currently equipped to provide.
Wait just a darn minute. What fever are we talking about? His eyes narrowed at the comment. Moroi did not suffer sickness, fevers or otherwise. He was only coughing because there was probably still tissue agitating his esophagus. That was it. Trevor busied himself looking for wherever the moistened cloth had gone off to while Alucard continued to frown, before he decided to just pull Trevor back into his tight embrace. Forget the rag. This was the only thing he needed.
The Hunter was instantly receptive, slotting into him perfectly like the last puzzle piece needed to make a whole. Trevor's pulse was still wild, as if his poor neglected body was not quite understanding there wasn't going to be any type of that particular release it was seeking. Not any time soon.
“I'm sorry, it must be incredibly hard.” He whispered into the human's ear, all the while Alucard's hand slid down to the small of his back and pulled the Hunter into him, drawing it out. His choice of wording, of course, completely intentional. “Having you in my arms and wanting me so badly you're trapped in such a state... I wish I could spare you the torture, I really do.” He managed to purr without choking on his own phlegm. Knowing he was being a right asshole didn't seem to stop his desire to tease in an uncalled for and perhaps retaliatory fashion. It just wasn't fair that he'd be given this thirsty man looking at him like he was a tall glass of water on a hot summer day, and Alucard had a numbed, useless body and non-functioning dick. It sucked. Big time.
“Keep torturing me.” Trevor whispered back, leaning into his touch in an overtly needy way. The Hunter was still an achingly stiff line against his hip. Perhaps the hardest Alucard had ever seen him. Oh, was he mad as hell about that.
It really wasn't fair for either of them. But it would be quite cruel to leave the poor Hunter like that, even if he couldn't equally partake, right? It should be his pleasure to alleviate such a predicament. That's what a good boyfriend would do, after all. Alucard admittedly didn't have the greatest track record in that department, and all the proof one could want could be found amongst the long string of jilted lovers and one night stands he'd had over the centuries. The Dhampyre wasn't really exclusive or consistent with partners past, preferring a light fleeting touch and his temporary partners to have low expectations. Yet for Trevor, he would always move mountains. When it came to Trevor Belmont, he always wanted to do his best and try his absolute hardest. So he let a corner of his lip curl up devilishly and dragged a hand that felt like it was wearing a thick glove down the front of the pretty little thing's body languidly, slowing down until he was left cupping a very firm desire through stiffer denim. Even stroking through the hardy fabric pulled a wet, wanton hiss out of the brunette. He was just that eager.
“Perhaps this could be fun after all.” The Dhampyre mused, keeping up the slow teasing strokes.
Trevor closed his eyes and lowered his head until his brow rested upon the Dhampyre's shoulder, pleasure-laced sigh expelled once he'd settled, arms a loose link around the Moroi's neck. He almost missed when a soft voice confessed. “I was so afraid...” While the comment stilled his hand momentarily, unsure as he was to the correct response to such a whispered vulnerability, Trevor's breathy little request, “Please don't stop.” made him continue, if with all the teasing going forward replaced by gentle and hopefully comforting sensuality.
Hearing the Hunter's voice and actually having a conversation with him was making Alucard emotional. A powerful mix of guilt and relief, elation and pleasure, while at the same time a confusing sense of mourning settled in. What was there to mourn in this reunion? As gently as he could, he thread his fingers into the back of the Hunter's head so as to pry Trevor from his hiding place against Alucard's shoulder. Looking deeply into lidded steel coloured jewels that twinkled clearly through the blur of colours the world still was to the Dhampyre's ravaged eyes, Alucard was overcome with nostalgia. The scent off the brunette before him was undeniably Trevor, but the miasma of apprehension and stress hormones was putting an edge to the sweetness in Trevor's natural scent that Alucard did not care for. It simply was not acceptable now that they were together again, for such a pretty little thing to be so troubled. To smell so sad. No matter how Alucard's failure had fucked up the world's chance at peace lest he find a way to remedy his mistakes, Trevor Belmont wasn't going to pay for Alucard's mistakes. He wouldn't allow it. So why, even half blind, did looking at the Hunter make him feel like he was seeing someone else entirely? Why did he feel like he was missing some critical component of his Trevor Belmont when the whole man was right in front on him?
“We have... been through a lot.” He reasoned quietly out loud, in response to both Trevor's little confession and Alucard's internal darkening thoughts. “I hope you aren't still afraid?” He asked without much forethought to the question, that it made him add in a murmured rush. “I don't want you to feel that way, Trevor.”
There was a small shake of a head before the Hunter's loose arms around his neck were removed in favour of cupping his face. Trevor asked his own trepidacious question in place of answering. “Are you going to be all right?”
It was an inquiry that sent a bolt of guilt right through him, recalling the single-minded obsessive mission for vengeance the day he'd abandoned this beautiful brunette in his garden. “I am never leaving you again.” He promised before finally replying in as soft a voice as his raw and swollen throat would allow. “The rest of the damage will heal with time and a few bloodmeals, please don't worry yourself about that.”
“Then, I can help.” The Hunter perked up, if the sound of his voice was any indication. Alucard felt him slide near flush against his own body, hands that had been cupping the sides of his face now sliding through into the soft curls at the back of his head, mirroring how Alucard held Trevor. “You have to get better, Adrian. Please...” Fingers tightening in his curls, the Hunter repeated himself, while drawing their faces closer together. “Please, I need...”
Alucard caught his lips before Trevor could finish, knowing exactly what he was being asked to do. It was succinctly both an offer and a demand of service of a kind only Trevor Belmont would make. Alucard smiled in the midst of their kiss, chuckling softly as he felt the body in his lap undulate tellingly, swishing chestnut hair to the wayside so as to expose a pale, waiting neck. The banquet now set, Alucard pulled back just to behold the little thing to the best of his current ability to do so before he partook. As he did, he noticed a powerful aroma clouding his senses until there was no room or bed or warm linens around. There was only a hungry besotted Dhampyre and his perfumed delicate flower, full of the nectar he was to drink right up.
“Your eyes are doing that weird thing again.” A soft voice was telling him, but it was difficult to pay attention to words when a pulse was thrumming through pale flesh just beneath his palm. He could feel the flower's honey flowing through delicate, delectable veins. “They turn such a pretty colour...” That same voice was saying now, and the compliment did catch a bit of his attention, unabashedly vain as he was. “...You are just so beautiful, Adrian.” Now that confession caught his full attention. “I wish I could look at you every day for the rest of my life.”
Ego fully stroked in place of his limp, temporarily useless cock, the Dhampyre pulled the lithe little tease closer in order to drag his tongue along the line of his neck, tracing the pathway of what he was about to sink his teeth into. “You smell divine.” He purred lowly, planting tiny kisses along his way. “You taste divine too... Only you can sate my appetite.” It wasn't an exaggeration either. Only by being with Trevor did he ever experience relief from a Moroi's unrelenting hunger. Drunk on that aroma, his lips split into a hungry grin before teeth found their mark, penetrating.
Sweet ambrosia hit his tongue just as Trevor moaned musically into his ear. The Hunter was usually so quiet with his pleasure, only letting out such stifled or softened, breathy responses. Like the man was too afraid to give up an ounce of control that it had to be wrest from his grip. It must have been his desperate state of arousal that let such a vocal response go so freely. Alucard's hand found it's way back down below, closing over that poor, strained organ trapped within the confines of denim. Blood and honey on his tongue, silk trapped in rough cloth in his hand, and an intoxicating perfume permeating every conscious thought.
It was a wonderfully slow waltz as he gorged himself, feeling the full weight of the Hunter gradually slump into him. Liquid gold gliding down his throat soothing all the coughs and strain. He could feel the effects of Trevor's blood radiating out from his core to the tips of his fingers and toes. The tingling energy getting to work repairing and renewing what the black earth he'd climbed too early out of had not. In the back of his mind a little voice was urging him to consume, to devour. To drink up every last drop and have this divine creature become a part of him forever. It was in it's own right as desperate as Trevor had been for his touch. Still, something within him was fighting to be heard over that little voice. That it was enough now. Perhaps too much now. He needed to stop before it went too far. Alucard was confused, drunk, and beyond sated. The ambrosia continued to flow, however.
Rushing water overpowered the scent of sweetened earth and sky, cutting through ambrosial dreams as the pretty little flower in his arms was stolen away. His flower. His honey. Stolen. Yet, before he could even seethe at the audacity of this sudden interloper, the Dhampyre found the intermixing juxtaposition both intriguing and complimentary. Demure sweetness meeting wild freshness. Something in this new scent was found to be also as familiar and comforting as it was enticing to him. Very well, then. He mused, breathing in deeply the desirable, familiar aroma. We can play too, if you are so inclined to join us. Judging by how far he had to reach hands up, this one was taller than Alucard preferred them, as he did like to be the one considered 'large and in charge' within the confines of these kinds of spicy liaisons. There were always exceptions to every rule though, so when this tall handsome feeling stranger with a runway model's body proportions parted his lips to speak, Alucard threw the rulebook out the proverbially window and captured that mouth too.
In spite of interrupting such an amorous exchange, it seemed that being kissed threw the interloper for a spin. Pleasingly shaped arms - toned and gently defined, but not bulky by any means - froze in place partway between pulling him up and pushing him away, so the Dhampyre made the decision for the tall familiar smelling stranger, pulling him straight down flat against the bed. There was almost no resistance. It was so easy to climb on top of this new plaything, so he did, capturing stunned lips with and frozen hands with his own. Now with fingers laced and arms pressed above this new toy's head, he changed up his tactics to instead tease a smooth throat and well-defined jawline, tracing the shell of a... Pointed ear? A pointed ear, yes. That was a demon's ear. The attractive interloper was a demon.
Wait a minute... His addled brain tried to stomp on the breaks, but when the enticingly powerful being under his thighs finally pushed back, the exertion misted the room freshly with that wild and free scent once more, driving the Dhampyre to meet the resistance with his own. “Where are you going?” He purred dangerously, causing the being beneath him to falter slightly. The dynamic curves and cut of the body under his roving palms would more than do, he decided. The challenging height could be easily forgiven with a slim, hard body like that and a waist perfectly drawn in to emphasize the full, sculpted ass below. You would be a fitting muse for my canvas. As an artist, Alucard knew he could trust his assessment, partially blind or not. “You smell so good, you should really just stay put. I want to play with you too... I hope you'll say you want to play with me.”
“I want you to come to your senses.” A liquid voice slid over Alucard, drawing out another low purr. “I am dead serious.”
“What a blessing. Your voice is really sexy, you know. If you keep telling me what to do in such a rich tone, I just may have to obey.” He teased, much to the powerful demon's chagrin. It was definitely a mighty demon, and the thrill of a potential fight for dominance was heady, beyond intoxicating. Alucard laughed as he was being lifted and chose to wrap his legs and arms around hips and shoulders respectively when the demon had them standing. “You're very strong too. How titillating.” No longer a purring, but stated with a low growl, he added. “I like to be excited.”
“Get a hold of yourself, already.” That smooth liquid syrup poured over him, drawing out a pleased little moan and follow-up purr.
“Look what you are doing to me, you tease. Where have you been hiding, handsome?” He inquired giving the body he was wrapped around a squeeze. “Smelling so divine and sounding so sexy. This body feels so good too, sculpted just how I like em. Graceful, toned, and hotter than hell. If you tell me you taste delicious too, I'd be inclined to believe I may have just died and gone to heaven.”
“You are absolutely out of control.” A pleasing voice sighed, exasperation evident. It still sounded hot to Alucard's ears, and he said so, but the demon only scoffed at his compliments. It was a thorough tease then, through and through. “I think you need air.”
“Ooh, where are we going? Baby, the bed is right here.” He wriggled excitedly in the demon's grip once he realized they were moving. “Too trite and uninspired for you? Then the bathroom is right that way if you want to have some clean and fun shower sex.” As he was carried out of the bedroom, he suggested something else with anticipation, heavily invested in where this mysterious yet familiar-seeming stranger had in mind. “Oh, it's been years since I was bent over a desk for some nose to the grindstone office sex, but I am very open to the idea. Which one of us gets to wear the tie?”
“I would gag you with a tie but in this state I've discovered you in, it would only further titillate you. We are not doing any of those things.” Liquid silver bit out as a blast of frigid air stole the Dhampyre's breath away. “We are calming down.”
“Ahh, cold!” He whined, trying to nestle in closer to the warm body before him. Such an enticing, inviting shape it was too. Just where had this lovely creature been hiding all this time? “Outdoor sex is for summer, man!” Giving the outburst a second thought, he reconsidered. “Maybe in early Autumn too, with a thick enough blanket and nice campfire. Mmm... Spiced cider, wood-smoke, and rustic, uncomplicated sex. Doesn't that sound much better? But I suppose a roll in the snow would be a new one for me... Let's try it!”
“You are not having any kind of sex right now. The only thing you are permitted to do at this junction, is to gather your better senses and settle down.”
“You're so authoritative, sweetheart. That's really hot too.” Alucard purred instead. Disregarding everything he'd just been ordered to do and playfully trying to unbutton the shirt of the desirable being before him, the Dhampyre pouted when his hands were slapped aside. “I am very open to creative persuasion, if you'd like to try that.” He offered in lieu of mean hand-slapping. Then, adding with a chuckle. “Please... I would really love you to try some passionate creativity.” Who was against a little spanking every now and then, right?
“You are going to be mortified in a few minutes time, and I would like to ask that you not blame me for this when that happens. This is entirely on you, Kitten.”
“Oh, so that''s how it is. You want me to be your kitty, do you? Why didn't you just say so from the start? I can do that too.” Alucard gave his best purr yet and grinned coyly. “Meow.” Giggling, he tried and failed spectacularly to retake those lips, only managing to kiss the corner of a mouth. Even the neck he was running his tongue up along teased him by twisting away. Crafty demons were sure were crafty!
When it finally happened, it started slowly, the haze on his higher brain functions lifting. Little by little he came back to himself, recalling the lusty playful event as if it were a dream... Only he knew it had not been one. The reality was that he had just lived through a dawning and ever growing nightmare. Beautiful Trevor Belmont was sharing his musical voice, and offering a bloodmeal out of the kindness and sweetness of his heart. To help Alucard regain his strength faster. To make him well again, and to help him be whole. Trevor, who smelled so angelic... It had clouded his senses. That had happened once before, too, on the day they'd gone to the beach together. All of that day was a fantastical dream to the Dhampyre, so lost as he'd been in Trevor's heavenly scent. This time, however, there was something else that had caught his attention while under the perfume's effect, and drew him away from pretty little Trevor Belmont. A fresh scent of swift moving water. Like that of a clear blue riverside. A tall body brimming with strength both physical and arcane had caught his interest, awakened his hunger and enticed him to play. A body that spoke quicksilver on the tongue, and whose mass of blurred colours contained that same mercury in eyes and hair.
Oh... No.
Alucard shook his head once to rid the thought. And again when no other logical answer would form.
Oh fuck me... Absolutely not. No. Nope. Nuh-uh. I refuse to believe this.
“Oh, here it comes now. I'm sure I'll get all of the accusations.” That very familiar silver voice muttered to himself. Fixing the Dhampyre with his gaze, the Vampyre asked plainly. “Have you finally found your better senses?”
“What the fuck just happened?” The Dhampyre, now fully of sound mind, demanded. “What did you do to me while I was... Under the influence?”
“And there it is.” Joachim murmured again. “What did I do to you? What the hell did you think you were doing to me, is what needs answering.” The Vampyre huffed and threw him inside where the Dhampyre landed ungracefully, toppling over. “What was that intoxicating pheromone in the air, halfbreed? Do you have a trick up your sleeve I am not aware of?”
“There is no way that I... I mean. Did I... Really say all those things? To you?” He hedged, mortified. The words 'Sweetheart', 'Baby', 'Hot' and 'Sexy' all rattled around his skull from where they'd fallen off the shelves.
“Focus, halfbreed.” Chastened the Vampyre. “Do you know what that was or where it came from?”
In an overwhelming mire of disbelief, he insisted petulantly. “I do not endorse a single comment I made while... While that was happening, just so you know!”
Joachim shook him harshly, and hissed lowly, patience dangerously thin. “I am trying to determine if we are under some form of attack or not. Stop whining about throwing yourself at me for a second and just answer my question. Was that pheromone something coming off of you, or was that perhaps Lilû? I would like to know because one of those cases is a bit more of an immediate concern, you moron!”
“How dare you insinuate that. I would never throw myself at you!” He snarled, but put up his hands when it looked like he was about to be strangled, and replied to the best of his ability. “I don't know, okay! I've only caught scent of it once before. It wasn't the Lilû back then.”
“Explain.” Curt command given, the Vampyre knelt before him to meet his gaze evenly.
“I... I don't know, I told you.” He repeated. “I... think it might have something to do with Trevor. But...” Still slightly scrambled, his recent memory reached back to determine the catalyst of this whole shameful situation. Trevor was offering himself up like a feast when he mentioned shyly that Alucard's eyes were 'doing that weird thing again'. They were that peculiar shade of pink the Dhampyre could not explain the first time. “I can't say for sure. He said both times this happened that my eyes were pink. I've never known them to change that colour outside of these two instances now. I can't even explain it. Just that he smells like sex on a silver platter and apparently my eyes look like sky at sunrise and then I... Well you saw what happened.” He finished in a rush, ashamed. “Have you ever seen or heard of that? A Vampyre or Dhampyre's eyes turning rosy?”
“No.”
Well it was worth the ask, he supposed. Alucard found himself shivering, quite suddenly. He had been doing it for a while, but was only made aware just then, as the chill was now causing his teeth to begin chattering. “Can we close the door now? I am f-freezing.” He whined, drawing into a ball on the ground.
“No. We need to air out this whole house. That pheromone is dangerous. Look how you were acting.” The Vampyre replied, still curt. Joachim seemed mildly annoyed, but Alucard did not get the sense it was at him specifically. Which was good, because it was not like he'd intended to... Do any of that or say the kinds of things that had been spewing out of his daft lips. “With my aura I have this entire neighbourhood on lockdown, so if you say this anomaly is local, at least I can be satisfied I haven't missed something that left us vulnerably open.”
This was a nightmare, he bemoaned internally. He'd never been so glad to be partially blind as he was now, for who knew how Joachim was looking at him. Or judging him. Perhaps even ridiculing him. But... He had not fallen prey to this alone. He had been looking at the familiar and comforting shape that had been his beautiful treasure when... “Is Trevor all right?” Alucard asked after a long stretch of silence. He tried to get to his feet but collapsed feebly, limbs refusing to cooperate. “I drank a lot of his blood. Much more than I intended. It was like I was in a trance of some kind.”
“The Little One?” Joachim tilted his head, as if interrupted from deep thought, and confused about what he was being asked. “Oh, the Little One appears dead.”
Alucard's heart stopped. He scrambled to his feet, fighting uncoordinated limbs and waning strength to dash into the bedroom. The blurry colours on the white bedding were easy to fall over, and he drew the limp body into his arms. Blood rushing, body trembling, he brushed aside chestnut hair from a pale face and gently shook the brunette, asking in a hitched voice. “Trevor?” The Hunter felt cold in his arms. “...Trevor?” There was no response, for just as Joachim had said, the Hunter appeared to be dead. “What... What the fuck. How did I not realize what I was doing?”
No, no, no, no, no. There has got to be some other explanation.
Joachim.
The Vampyre wasn't freaking out in any capacity. He had to know something? He had to suspect something, that's right. Alucard's heartbeat and blood rush was whiting out his ability to think. He needed to... To stop. To breathe in and out slowly. He did. Once. Twice. Thrice. Now to think more rationally. The Vampyre wasn't at his throat condemning him for consuming the elder demon's newest fascination whole. But Trevor was so still...
But... Think, idiot. Have you not... seen Trevor like this before? Perhaps even more than once? The Dhampyre stilled himself now, and seriously considered where this particular thought train was taking him. Was it the right logical leap to make? If it was, it would explain why Joachim was still so calm. He stared at the silver and blue shape stepping into the bedroom now, following in his footsteps, and narrowed his eyes into slits as suspicion overrode his terror, guilt and despair. Does he know something about this that I do not?
“I can see how my phrasing has caused this panic.” Joachim was sighing from the door frame, leaning casually as he watched Alucard's misery rise by the second. “If you will continue to avoid conversing as our species was designed, then at least do listen to the words I am speaking for your benefit, halfbreed. I said the Little One appears to be dead. I did not say he was. Relax.”
“You explain right now!” He shouted back, petting and cradling a disturbingly still Trevor Belmont “Now is not the time to dance around a subject.”
The Vampyre threw his hands up and closed the distance, sitting next to them on his bed and even going so far as to reach out and pull Trevor out of his grasp. It made Alucard snarl, but Joachim's Force of Will slammed him back down when he pounced. “Relax, I said. Our little Rabbit appears to have fallen into some kind of... Dormant state. He is not dead.” Joachim explained, but it was clear he was only hypothesizing. “He is not breathing and the minuscule amount of blood you didn't drain in him has stilled, but he has not passed on. So it stands to reason he is... Dormant. Hibernating, I guess. Perhaps this is his version of the little dirt nap you recently took.”
“D-dormant...” Adrenaline rushing, Alucard reached back out towards the limp shape and his chest hitched when Joachim allowed him the freedom to help cradle his little french flower. Something about that term the Vampyre had given Trevor's state seemed to click in both his mind and his memory. Dormancy. That had been what it was like the last two times... right? The assessment seemed to fit. “I d-didn't mean t-t-to.” He shivered, and maybe he was crying as well. “I k-k-knew i-it was t-t-t-to much, b-but...”
“I am really going to have my hands full with you two, aren't I?” Joachim's question seemed rhetorical as he did not wait for Alucard's confused response before continuing. “We are in agreement that pheromone is deadly, I can safely assume?” That too seemed rhetorical, and a reply was not expected. “Lay back, Kitten. You are ill, according to the Rabbit, and I was out getting you medicine to treat this human failing of yours when you both got out of hand. You are shivering and feverish. I will tuck this one in next to you, so climb back into bed properly.”
“D-d-dormant.” He repeated, complying weakly with the request. It seemed right. It was the only thing that seemed to properly explain the phenomenon. The logical conclusion stymied his mire of misery. He just had to wait until the proper hour to know. They had a hypothesis, so now it was time for the scientific method. Clothes were thrown at his face, distractingly, before Joachim was at the other side of the bed, undressing Trevor. “What are you doing?” He asked, suspicions rising once again. He couldn't help it. Every time someone put their hands on Trevor whether the Hunter had welcomed the touch or not, Alucard felt the urge to tear those hands clean off the offender. He pulled on his own clothes quickly to help stave off the freezing air, and watched Joachim strip the Hunter bare only to then dress him in an oversized shirt.
“Who sleeps in jeans, Kitten? That sounds awful.” The Vampyre explained casually, unbothered by his seething jealousy just an arms-length away. “He seems to enjoy sleeping in your teeshirts, and you seem to enjoy letting him from those few times I've checked in on you both through your windows. So what's the problem, exactly? He looks much comfier now, wouldn't you agree?”
“W-why are you l-l-looking through my w-windows at all, J-J-Joachim?” He admonished.
“I just told you why, Kitten. To check on my things.” The Vampyre made an exasperated noise and swiftly tucked Trevor in up against him for warmth. The Hunter still felt so cold to the touch, as far as Alucard could tell. Now Joachim was back sitting down beside the Dhampyre, picking through a plastic bag to lay out small bottles and boxes on the side table. “Leila has never been sick a day in her life, so this was a new experience for me. I had to look up what was best based on your symptoms. I am not really sure if a human dose of this medicine will work on a demi-demon or not. Perhaps to be sure you should just take a nice big swig of it. Here.” The largest bottle was pawned off and Joachim's ghostly tendrils were already bringing back a fetched glass of water to place next on the bedside table by the time he'd finished choking down a mouthful of foul vague cherry-flavoured syrup. “And two of these.” Some capsules and the water glass were handed next. “And I guess call me in the morning.” The Vampyre finished with a laugh.
“M-m-moroi with a f-fever? Bullshit.” Alucard scoffed, coughing fit undermining his whole denial. “I-I n-n-need a f-favour.”
“Shocking. When do you not need a favour, Kitten?” The Vampyre gave a long-suffering sigh. “What is it this time?”
He hoped he was scowling. He really did. But he also hoped Joachim would indulge him. He needed to settle this mystery once and for all. “I-i-if I fall asleep... I n-n-need you to wake me up, b-b-before th-three AM.”
“Oddly specific.”
“P-p-please, Joachim. It is i-i-important.”
“Fine, you spoiled brat. Consider me your alarm clock as well.” The Vampyre pushed him down hard so that he was laying next to the still shape of Trevor, and pulled the blankets up over them, tucking them both in with what Alucard knew was a twisted little grin, even if he couldn't clearly make it out. He hated this, being weak and dependent to goddamn Joachim of all people. Abhorred it. “Honestly, I thought the favour you were about to ask of me was to forget all that thirsty talk of yours.”
I hate this.
“I thought for sure you would want me to forget how you think I have a sexy voice, and a smoking hot body. Or how I smell so divine to your senses.”
I hate him so much.
“You asked me where I had been hiding, and called me handsome too, if I recall correctly. I've been here the whole time, too! Funny how a little pheromone was all it took to make you open your eyes and be honest with yourself.” Pleasant reverberations filled the air, and Alucard hated every second of how he enjoyed Joachim's voice against his will. “But, I will admit I was a little drunk on that pheromone myself. I might be persuaded into believing it was all in my head, if you'd like me to.” A rich liquid silver chuckle just dripped all over Alucard, and he hated hated hated, that there must still be some residual effect of that intoxicating scent affecting his body's responses. It was the only way to explain why he wanted the Vampyre to keep talking while subsequently he loathed every single word coming out of that pouty-lipped mouth. “You wondered if I would taste delicious.”
I will kill him. One of these days I am just going to kill and devour him.
“You kept attempting to stick your tongue down my throat, so did I?” The Vampyre asked. “Did I taste delicious? Or did you mean to taste me in another fashion?”
Hah! Alucard jumped at the opportunity to refute even one of these little painful reminders. “A-actually, if you really w-want to know, you are t-t-the worst kisser I can ever recall sticking my tongue in.”
The honest truth seemed to only amuse the Vampyre, if his smooth and rich laughter tickling Alucard's deadened nerve-endings was any indication. And boy did he hate that even Joachim's laughter now was thrumming through his electric veins.
“Well, I should certainly hope so for the sake of your past conquests. That was my first proper kiss.” Joachim shared openly. “Moroi don't exactly get up to that activity.”
Wait, what?
“Oh.. I supposed technically the second kiss now. The first one was quite recent, however. That little Lilû creature placed it's lips upon mine to drain me of all my energy and it was very unpleasant an experience. I can't say I recommend it. Truthfully, I had been wondering what humans and other Desire demons found appealing about this whole kissing thing, given my only experience was painful and essence draining.”
Wait, wait, wait... What? Joachim had his energy drained by the Lilû while rescuing me? Alucard had more than his fair share of such a treatment from the too-perfect twin of Trevor Belmont. The serial rapist. Alucard had not been able to even think, let alone move after suffering at the Lilû's hands, but Joachim taken the same hit and yet still had helped free him from the stone wall... And taken him away from the flooding waters. It appears he was also the one who was caring after Trevor and keeping them safe. Logic stood that the Vampyre was probably the most likely one that had been making sure Trevor ate and was the reason the Hunter felt so healthy and robust to the touch. The Vampyre had peeled him free of his rotten casing... And just now gone to fetch him medicine because he was ill and supposedly feverish. Oh goddammit. Now I feel shitty for throwing that in his face..
“If I promise to keep it just between us, is it all right if I consider you my first kiss then, Kitten? Given the circumstances. You were the one who actually intended it in it's proper usage, and not as a distraction to attack... At least as far as I am aware of.”
The question was asked almost... innocently. Alucard had no idea how to respond properly, so he embarrassingly found himself blushing and looking away from the amalgamation of colours that made up Joachim's shape, stammering. “I-I'm sorry. Th-that was a shitty th-th-thing t-to say. I didn't k-know Moroi do not k-k-iss. My father and m-mother did.”
“Your father was born and raised a human, Kitten. Walter was always Moroi, and I was raised as he saw fit to groom me.” The Vampyre explained patiently for the hundredth time why some facet of Alucard's upbringing would never compare to a true full-blooded Moroi's. “So is it all right..? May I consider yours was my first proper kiss?”
Such an earnest question too. The fucking Vampyre would probably oblige if he denied him the opportunity to discount the sexual assault by the Lilû as his first time. There was only ever that one first, and Alucard had such a wonderful memory of his own. Blushing even more fiercely and feeling guilty about how he'd thrown such a crass and deeply hurtful comment without thought at Joachim's understandable inexperience – Walter Bernhard for sure didn't sound like the romantic type – Alucard grit his teeth and gave a short firm nod in response. After everything Joachim had done for him, it wouldn't hurt – that badly – to throw the elder demon a bone. Right? “Being attacked and consumed by a hungry demon doesn't count. What just happened between us today was... That was your first kiss. A real one. It's the truth, so of course you can consider it as such. You can also... say so out loud too. If you want to. It's the truth, and I will not deny it. Still blushing furiously, he couldn't help but insist further. “But if you think you can tell anyone about all that other stuff that came out of my mouth, I'll deny it. I was under the influence of some janky sex pollen. It doesn't mean a thing, what I did or did not say or do.”
“Hmm, I think your medicine kicked in.” Joachim commented thoughtfully. “You didn't chatter your teeth once in that little tirade.”
I'll fucking kill him. One of these days.
Alucard really hoped he was scowling when he spat. “I am going back to bed.” Sure, it was a cowardly escape, but it was the best he had to get out of this horrible conversation. “Before three o-clock.” He reminded, burying himself under blankets and up against the stilled body of Trevor Belmont. He had a theory brewing, and there was only one way to tell if he was on the money or not.
Or discover if he had just taken the life of his beloved. He still had those silver capped stakes in that event... But for some reason he didn't feel like it was going to come to that. He was growing more assured of that with each passing moment.
“I heard you the first time, you brat.” The Vampyre spoke flatly, rising to his feet. “Have a good rest...” Before he completely left the bedroom, from the door frame he added. “And thank you for my first kiss.”
I swear he's dead. One of these days. Dead!
*****
December 2037~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo ~ Near the Witching Hour
A gentle shake of his shoulder is what roused the Dhampyre for the third time since his great escape from the sarcophagus. It was not a quick affair by any means. Sleep seemed to have had it's claws deeply embedded within him, but rouse he does in due time. Faint notes of sweetened earth and sky filling his nostrils, he untangles himself from the loving – perhaps given recent events and emotions, possessive was the better choice of words – embrace with the disturbingly too cold and too still Trevor Belmont. His throbbing head and itchy esophagus are nowhere near as bad as they were earlier, but the lingering cough is the first thing that truly forces him into a fully wakened state. He's reaching blindly for the box of tissues to hack into when a helpful Vampyre perched at his bedside offers one up.
That's right. Because he'd asked for this wake-up call.
“Thanks.” He murmurs between trying force a glob of... something... that did not want to dislodge itself from his throat free. This was truly the worst. He couldn't deny the facts. He was sick, and everything about being sick was gross.
“What is it like?” Joachim asks him within seconds of finally freeing himself of the foul something. “I was also never ill a day in my human life. Walter took great steps to keep me healthy and away from disease until he turned me. So I am curious, what does it feel like?”
Hoping to end this line of questioning in a fell swoop, he simply opened the tissue wide to display the greenish glob of who the fuck knew what and stated simply. “It's gross.”
Alucard was not that lucky however. Rather than be disgusted, Joachim was perversely fascinated. “Whoa. And that came out of your body?” He leaned in to peer at it closer and Alucard wadded up the tissue in his own disgust before the Vampyre reached out to touch it or something. He wouldn't put it past him. “What a remarkable colour. Do you think if we took it back to your lab you could analyze it and maybe make a new plague? If it was strong enough to take a demi-demon down, it has to be a powerful virus or bacteria, right?”
“Maybe.” He humoured, noticing the blend of colours that made up Joachim's shape was far more concise. As if just a thin film was covering his corneas and nothing more. It had to be Trevor's blood at work. “What I feel is a pounding vice grip on my skull, aches and pains in all my joints, a chill in my bones, and this horrible itchy tickling in my chest that makes me cough up foul, unspeakable things.”
“Wow.” The Vampyre hummed. “It sounds devastating. Are you going to live? What if this virus or bacteria climbs into your lungs and you get the pneumonia? Or if it breeds and you become septic. Isn't that kind of sickness fatal?”
“Maybe.” He played along, responding in a grave tone. “I might not be long for this world. You should be nicer to me while I am on my deathbed.”
Joachim adorably made what could only be described as a pouting noise. “I am always nice to you, Kitten. I am perhaps too nice to you. You have been spoiled rotten by all accounts.” The Vampyre was pushing the cherry syrup medicine bottle back into his hands again, even taking care to remove the child-proof cap for him before he added. “I would prefer you not expire from such a stupid cause. That would honestly be the most embarrassing death I can think of. Perhaps you should just chug the bottle. Isn't the cure in the last drop, so the saying goes?”
“I have heard that.” Alucard agreed, taking a large swig of it. “But I think you need to like draw the sickness out. Like a little war between your white blood cells and the sickness. You keep adding medicine slowly to replenish the troops until they smite the enemy.”
“Fascinating. So you are waging a war as we speak then?” Joachim sounded really invested now. “How do you know who is winning? What are the casualties?”
“I guess if I am awake, walking and talking, I am currently winning.” Alucard suggested with a shrug. “I have never been sick before, but I'll keep you updated regularly on the status of my gross human failings. Deal?”
“Please do.”
“Can I ask you something?” The Dhampyre pivoted, with his vanity at the forefront. “Do I look as bad as I feel? Be honest.”
“As you take great pains to appear in such a well manicured fashion, I always find you pleasing to the eye, Kitten. You know that. It bothers you a lot that I do, so you are always quick to inform me.” The Vampyre's reply was on the mark, for Alucard did experience just in that very moment a flash of annoyance in a knee-jerk reaction, even though he had been the one to ask in the first place. “You've asked for honesty, bear in mind. So honestly, you are not looking your very best right this moment. But I do not think the Little One will care too much about that, if that is what you are afraid of.”
“It's not...” Alucard stopped himself mid-denial and sighed, giving in. It was no secret he was vain as all hell. “Actually you are correct. That is what I am worried about. Looking ugly.” Well, that wasn't quite true, so he clarified. “Him finding me ugly, specifically.”
“Kitten, he's seen you in far poorer a states than this, and lest we forget, he was ready to jump your sickly self the minute you woke up. At least that's what it looked like when I arrived. His desire for you transcended your disease. On your potential deathbed, even.”
Please don't remind me of the sex pollen episode. I am trying to forget all about the sex crazed debasement I put myself through.
Pivoting again away from such a topic, Alucard inquired instead what the time was. He was curious how much longer he was going to have to field small talk and uncomfortable questions from the Vampyre before what he suspected was about to occur, did.
“I've done as you asked. It was quarter to three when I woke you. It must be three or soon thereof. Are you preforming a ritual that mandated you be awake at the Witching Hour? Must be a short prep time as you've done nothing but whine and sulk about looking sub-par since I shook you awake.”
The barb at his ego only drew a laugh instead of ire, for some reason. He must be feeling charitable or something, the Dhampyre decided. Certainly it wasn't because he was still feeling poorly about ruthlessly making fun of the other demon's inexperience with a non-Moroi extracurricular activity. Nor was it because he was also finding his elder's fascination with mucous and phlegm and the trials of the common cold, kind of adorable. Absolutely one hundred percent not that. “Not a ritual, but an experiment.” He replied with a bit more zeal than he'd originally intended. It was the desire to shake off and break away from those last lingering thoughts that was at fault. Joachim was batshit insane and a menace. The word adorable didn't even belong on the same planet as him. “One that I am happy to have another pair of eyes to verify the results of.”
“Is that because you cannot see clearly yet?” The Vampyre mused. “I jest, Kitten. I am pleased to be of service. What am I to observe?”
“Trevor Belmont.” Alucard stated simply.
“His condition has not changed since you drained the life out of him, Kitten. He remains in that dormant state. It is quite peculiar, actually. I have never seen anything exactly of the sort. The closest I can think of is our method of healing grievous damage to our bodies.”
“I can't say the same.” Alucard confessed, tipping his hand. “I believe I have seen this exact thing twice now. If I am correct, which I very highly do believe I will be, then this will make the third time I see this little miracle.”
“Explain.” Joachim beseech after a moment's pause, but Alucard did not have to.
It must have been the start of the Witching Hour, for at his side the still body of Trevor Belmont twitched back into life. With a shuddering gasp, the poor thing struggled for air, but as Alucard now knew to expect, Trevor would find it. He would struggle and claw his way back into consciousness, just as his blood would begin to hum through his veins once more. The Hunter did all those things as if on cue, his eyes fluttering open but always falling closed as he continued to pull himself out of his... Dormancy. That truly was a very good term for it Joachim had given him to use.
“Whoa.” The Vampyre repeated, leaning over the pretty, suffering little brunette in order to better study him. Trevor's laboured breathing held the elder demon rapt. “You knew.” He stated, looking towards Alucard. “You knew he would wake up now. That 's why you asked me to wake you before the magick hour.”
“I had a hunch, yeah.” Alucard admitted. “If you're going to ask me to explain, please don't. I am not sure how it works... I wasn't even certain this was how it worked until just now. When I found him in that cave the first time, we attacked before the ritual that coven was attempting could be completed. It must have been not long after three in the morning that he woke up. I thought he was dead. I had almost thrown him on a funerary pyre.” Alucard could still remember the terrible lightness in his arms, struggling for breath. “Before I ran off in my stupid roaring rampage of revenge, we had a fight in the bathroom. That's why all the shit is broken in there. We had a fight because he tried to take his own life. He... he did... Actually. Kill himself. He looked dead. He wasn't breathing. He'd slashed his wrist from hand to elbow and drained all his blood in the shower. It was around that same hour... I was talking to Yoko and I noticed the time on my phone. Almost three. He woke up. Then we fought. It... was after three.”
“Peculiar...” The Vampyre intoned. “There is a strange thinning of the Veil the world over at that magick hour. It's not just an arbitrary time chosen for rituals.”
“Yes... I am aware... But I still don't know how it works. I didn't see anything or sense anything this time to help me figure it out. Just a confirmation that this is what is happening to him. Did you notice anything?”
“Not really... I apologize Kitten. I was not aware there was anything to be on the lookout for, so I wasn't exactly using all my essence to try. I just sensed the dormancy come to an end.” Joachim placed his hands on Trevor's chest and ran his hands down the Hunter's erratically breathing body. For once Alucard did not suffer the pangs of jealousy, for he knew the Vampyre was simply trying to suss out the source of the mystery. “That truly is a perplexing puzzle now, isn't it?”
“He doesn't seem to know that this happens to him. Or at least, he has not mentioned it. So until I can speak to him about it gently, please don't say anything either. Please. He is very...”
“He is very fragile.” Joachim supplied perfectly. That was exactly the word the Dhampyre had been struggling to find. But then, as if speaking from a place of intimacy, the Vampyre continued to divulge. “The Little One is fragile and fearful, Kitten. He doubts himself and his worth, and seeks any way he can to help you. He feels he is a terrible burden on you, and not worthy of your time or feelings. You will be more than gentle with him, I hope. He is a shattered teacup. I see him starting to place his pieces back, perhaps not in the original pattern, but something of his own design and making. I think it will be beautiful if he can finish, but I believe he will some help along the way. Even if it's just to hold what he's repaired in place while he gathers a few more broken pieces to add.”
“Why are you talking about him like you know him inside and out?” Alucard murmured, feeling incredibly poleaxed. His heart breaking to hear Trevor described so, and wanting nothing more than to hold that shattered teacup together for as long as the Hunter needed him to. Yet the fact it was Joachim who had told him this..? A flash of jealousy and anger burned within as he thought of his drifting consciousness while he lay in the black healing earth in the sarcophagus. Joachim and Trevor's essence, so often indistinguishable from one another because they were entwined. It made him want to lash out. How dare Joachim speak to him as if the Vampyre knew more of what his love needed from him than he did? How dare he? Trevor was not his. He belonged to Alucard.
“Kitten, you really should get a better handle on that little green monst--”
“Mmm... Adri..an?” A soft voice cut through anger, jealousy, annoyance and tension.
“Hey... Shh, relax.” The Dhampyre soothed without any trace of his little green-eyed monster at the helm. He helped the Hunter sit up, leaning against him and the headboard. Trevor seemed dazed and confused, but the way he squeezed Alucard's hand and would not let go made the Dhampyre beyond happy to be in that exact place and moment in time. Agitating Vampyre's aside. “Just take it easy, okay.”
“Adrian... Are you... all right?” Trevor asked, reaching his free hand up to try and touch his brow. “Your fever...”
“It's fine. I took some medicine. Just relax... An apology is owed. I drank too much of your blood, I'm sorry. You must be feeling weak. Can I get you anything?”
Trevor shook his head weakly. “Just... Get better. Please. I'll... make more blood. I don't even have try.” It was breathy and weak, but Alucard was more than pleased to hear Trevor laugh again. To think he nearly never would have heard this delightful sound again. The warm gooey feeling was washed away with a bucket of ice water when Trevor reached that free hand out towards the Vampyre and greeted far too friendly. “Joachim. Thank you... for getting the... medicine.”
Wouldn't you know it, that goddamn Vampyre took that offered hand without sparing a moment's thought for the Dhampyre's feelings, greeting just as friendly. “Welcome back to the waking world, Little One, however briefly it appears you will be with us. You are always so happy to see me. It's quite a pleasant change from the norm.”
“Come over here.” Trevor urged with a tiny smile and a weak tug of his hand, and wouldn't you know it, the fucking Vampyre was soon sitting up by the headboard on Trevor's other side. But the Hunter wasn't done forcing Alucard to play nice or bite his tongue, as when he leaned back against Joachim, he pulled Alucard down with him. Now that the sleepy and weakened Trevor was nestled nicely against the Vampyre, his feeble pull at the Dhampyre had Alucard acquiescing to lean over as well. This left Alucard now cradled between who he wanted to lay beside and who he was having intense jealousy-related issues with at current. Trevor pressed a chaste little kiss to his lips embarrassingly right under the watchful eye and while they both lay upon another demon, murmuring one final thing before he seemed to close his eyes for a much needed rest. “This is nice... I am... happy now.”
Joachim's shifting had them now both cuddled and held together against him in what was – and Alucard was quite loathe to admit – a very cozy and comfortable sprawl, complete with blankets and pillows. Trevor sighed wistfully and the scent off him was just as happy as he claimed to have been before conking out. The feel of his warming body was pliant, without a stiff or stressed bone in his relaxed form that Alucard could find. So how could he move away when Trevor was so happy right where he was? It would be the height of cruelty to disturb him... Especially when it had been the Dhampyre's unrestrained hunger that was the cause of this fatigue. No... He could suck it up for this one instance. A few hours tops if needed. It was for Trevor, and he would always do his best for Trevor.
That still didn't mean he wouldn't use every available coping mechanism at his disposal, so rather then think about how much mud he had dragged himself through these past two days now, being a bloated and peeling helpless corpse, a hyper-sexualized Desire demon intent of debasing himself, and now a coddled infant in the arms of a man he was going to kill one of these days, he tried to keep his focus on the future, where he would eventually have control and his dignity back. He did not and would not have to acknowledge he was very warm and comfortable laying here if he didn't give himself a chance to think about it. “You see why I feel it necessary to have the Iron Maiden's team give him a once-over now?”
“I do, Kitten. I hate to agree when it comes to the Church, but he is a peculiar species, and perhaps their vast databases and libraries will give us a clue as to what kind of secrets this Trevor Belmont carries. Was it not clear that has already been agreed upon, his visit to the viper's nest? I thought that we had settled the issue with the compromise that I shall be accompanying you.”
“You've really never seen anything like it, in two thousand years?”
“No, I really have not.” The Vampyre admitted, reaching out to stroke the sleeping form he cradled alongside the Dhampyre.
Alucard hugged Trevor tighter and brushed Joachim's hand aside, nearly sneering. “Stop petting him. He's mine.” The goddamn demon had the gall to chuckle at his 'antics'. “And don't get used to this, either.”
“Get used to what, Kitten?” Joachim asked, sounding truly perplexed.
“This” Alucard reiterated, wriggling in the demon's arms as if he needed the reminder that two fucking people were laying against him. It had the devastating effect of causing him to slide ever more into that demon's lap... And now he was really comfortable. It was a crime. A felony offence. This should not feel so cozy. He'd be seething in place if it weren't for Trevor letting out another content and happy little sigh, nestling up closer. It took the spite and fight right out of him. This was for Trevor. Trevor was very happy to be where he was, at current. Alucard was... Going to put up with this. For Trevor.
“Oh, that.” Joachim mused. “Too late, Kitten. You may think me your servant, but the Little One thinks I am his pillow. He's always cuddling up next to me. I am rather abused by the two of you.”
I will... Get to the bottom of this weird fucking thing that is going on between them later. He would, truly. One thing at a time, man.
“You know what? You enjoy this fleeting perverted pleasure you must be high on.” Alucard stated. “ I am going back to bed, and when I wake up, the world might make some goddamn sense again. Until then, goodnight pillow.”
For a blissful little while, it seemed like that would be the end of it. Trevor was warm and soft and peaceful in his arms, and if he ignored the who and why that was made possible by, they lay curled up together impossibly comfortable in the sprawl of blankets, pillows, and one unmentionable. Everything that had happened this day would just be a distant nightmare. He'd awaken perhaps free of this stupid cold, and ready to tackle the mess of his own making. Perhaps ready to try and find a solution before he needed the Iron Maiden to...
“Do you know what kind of creature sleeps the whole day and then is sassy and unruly for the scant hours it is awake in the eve?” The Vampyre asked out of the blue.
Annoyed, the Dhampyre opened his eyes and snapped. “What!?”
“A cat.”
He'd kill and devour him one of these days, Alucard swore. With a disgruntled huff, he seethed. “Fuck you.”
Notes:
Hey, do you all remember when Alucard was younger and couldn't stop his elaborate sexual fantasies? I thought I would bring the ghost of that back for a laugh. The more things change.. the more they stay the same!
Also, I thought it would be very apropos to have it hinted that Joachim gives him the same fawning treatment he gave Trevor in those early chapters and have him respond just as irately as Early Trevor did, but still have him not put two and two together.
Chapter 44: The New Rule
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
The air was as brisk as the great hinterlands of the Mongolian steppes. An arid kind of cold that was wholly unusual for the four walls inside of a western style Japanese home. Alucard stirred within the confines of his blanket cocoon and was pleasantly reminded of the warm body tucked up against him in a relaxed hold. Inhaling filled his nostrils with the sweetened scent of Earth and Sky, bringing with them a calming sense that pulled his eyes back shut. Sure, the air was chilled, but together in the blankets and sheets, they were so warm. The world was increasingly growing hard and harsher beyond this intimate little space, but here they were insulated and cozy in refuge. So safe and comfortable, semi-consciously listening to the little breath exhaling by his ear. Trevor Belmont's slowed heart rate, beating lazily against the flat of his palm... It should have been criminal to be this content. So of course he had to urinate.
Who was the wise guy that invented bladders, anyway? Adrian exhaled, annoyed, and climbed to his feet, free of the soft shared space he already missed and muttered a simple curse into the dark blurry waiting world. “Damn it.”
A light switch flipped on behind him as he fumbled his way into the washroom, and then through his personal business quarter-blind. After washing his hands in the bathtub faucet and making a mental note to call and get the sink fixed, his fuzzy reflection caught his attention next. It's not like he really had any pressing matters to attend to until he could see and feel his environment properly, so he took a moment to squint at his reflection in the cracked mirror. It took a bit of effort to focus, but in the end he'd determined the bloodmeal Trevor had gifted him with had worked wonders already. His vision was no worse than it was during those first few blinks in the morning after a deep sleep. He could even make out the shapes of the standard sized font on the hair oil and aftershave, and if he really was inclined towards, he'd probably be able to read and get the gist of a newspaper article.
It won't be too long now... The Dhampyre self-soothed with a promise. While his fingers and toes were feeling a little more tender than before he awoke, it was not yet sore enough to drive him to distraction nor stop him from using them. So he grabbed a comb and a pair of scissors from the mostly empty wall cabinet and began to trim some of the wild bushiness off his overgrown beard. He didn't trust himself to groom it down professionally neat without his eyesight, or to shave and not cut up his face until his condition improved, but a trim he could manage. Simply in order to get some sense of civility back. Plus, while he had never seen Trevor shave once in his whole time spent with the man, the man never seemed to have a beard. He probably didn't care for them, and Alucard admittedly had a preoccupation brought on by his unsightly moult and these lingering, marring scars, of looking unattractive to the Hunter. Trevor said he was pretty... So he wanted to be pretty for Trevor.
Finishing up satisfactorily, he threw open the washroom door with a smile that immediately collapsed into a frown, and quickly thereafter a scowl as he watched his quote, unquote, best friend – for lack of a better term – lovingly assist a bed-ridden Trevor Belmont to drink a full glass of a mild scented fruit juice. Of a pear or something similar to that, whatever it was. Trevor was, of course, oh so graciously appreciative of the help to boot, sweetly giving the Vampyre his thanks in that hushed demure new way he seemed to be communicating since regaining his voice. That delicate little manor that drove the demonic predator side of the Dhampyre fucking wild even though it wasn't right for him to become so aroused by such unusual fragility. There was something to Trevor's new timidness that needed a closer look and a deeper conversation to uncover, not his perversions and hunger.
Joachim's little assessment of him being a broken teacup kept floating by the back of his mind. A shattered teacup being put back together would be nervous of shattering all over again... Right? By the looks of it, Joachim had been the one holding his hands out over the fragile Hunter's, keeping what Trevor had repaired in place while the Hunter picked up shard after shard, trying to decide how he was going to fit it all back together. A design of his own making. The Vampyre posited. Whatever pattern Trevor decided on, Alucard would agree, he'd find it beautiful. He just hated that it was Joachim of all people Trevor was so warmed up to... That Trevor was smiling at Joachim the way he did at Alucard when he'd come home these past few months. Trevor was always happy to see him... and now he was always happy to see Joachim too. It shouldn't bother him so much... But he was a demon. People were very rarely happy to see a demon. Trevor was... Rare. Alucard didn't want to fathom having to share him.
He watched them privately trade smiles as Joachim finished explaining something about a children's show called Super Sentai, and whatever the Vampyre whispered lowly as he placed the half-drained glass back on the side table pulled a soft... girlish... giggle... right out of Trevor Belmont. Alucard... Well, the Dhampyre saw nothing but red.
He had heard that sound only once. A drunken Trevor Belmont in a dress he'd picked out for the man removed and placed a ribbon adorned headband on his head, Letting out such a musical titter just like he was giving Joachim now. Alucard had spent every waking moment in Lupu in the coming days they had together trying to get Trevor to make that noise once more, and the fucking Hunter never would.
How many fucking times has Joachim heard my coveted giggle? He seethed. Bloodshed. He wanted a bloodbath all over this goddamn bedroom, and he wanted it right now. But Trevor was thanking the Vampyre again, only this time it was for taking care of... Me? Trevor didn't know what he would have done without Joachim with Alucard in the condition they'd found him in. He was so grateful the Vampyre had given him back his Dhampyre. Trevor was happy to have Alucard back.
He felt stupid and impulsive. But loved.
Of course Trevor is grateful for any help he's being offered, be it a cool drink for a parched injured man, or a knowledgeable demon providing instruction and care for a wounded demi-demon. It is not against any laws for others to be kind and considerate of him, nor for he to return their care with gratitude. He scolded himself for being such an overly possessive jealous asshole. It was so hard not to be, especially when he knew it was wrong to continuously have such a strong reaction to even basic things like common courtesy but... He did. It's not like the alternative was any better. What, was he supposed to be happier if everyone under the sun was a huge dick to Trevor and treated his beloved poorly left right and centre? Would that make the fool Dhampyre satisfied? No, of course that is not preferable! So that exact fool Dhampyre was trying to convince himself, but wasn't there a teeny tiny needling little voice inside just begging to know if that was really true? Because would it not be oh so convenient for Alucard if he had Trevor Belmont all to himself? Get a grip. Seriously. Get a goddamn grip on reality. He commanded that tiny voice, going so far as to imagine he was stamping it out like the embers of a dying flame. Trevor is allowed to have friends. Even Vampyre friends.
While not genuine, the bloodlust was crammed back inside the ugly mess of emotions he kept in the dark corners of his mind, and his initial smile forced back in place of the scowl. In just a moments time, he was glad to have made the effort so that when the Hunter finally noticed him standing just steps away by the door, Alucard was already returning the bright and cheery grin the Hunter was giving him. Truly, such a wonderfully simple but pure feeling to have someone happy to see you. Joachim had made a similar comment the night before... As a demon, people were hardly ever pleased to see you. Trevor Belmont was gift Alucard kept meaning to earn, but never seemed to deserve.
The Hunter's scent was sunny, for lack of a better word. Alucard felt his ugliness burn away under that warmth, and when it did, he also noticed the wary scent off Joachim fade with it. Did he think I was going to attack him..? Foolishness. I wouldn't risk upsetting Trevor like that. Not anymore. “How are you feeling?” He asked instead, mindful to keep any lingering resentment and jealousy at the Vampyre's ability to elicit that coveted waifish titter out of his tone.
Surprisingly, the elder demon made a satisfied noise and had the decency to stand up and walk out of the bedroom, giving them a semblance of privacy in a small garden home. In doing so, he'd also freed up the edge of the bed just by Trevor's side where one could perch and just look at the brunette on more or less equal ground. Trevor was reaching for him the moment he slid into place, smaller hands grazing his brow, the sides of his face, those tender purplish impressions left from sacred silver visible from his shirt's neckline, before finally sliding down to touch those bruising indents and lastly taking his hands.
The Hunter did not answer his earlier question, instead noting with a warm, small smile. “No fever.” Trevor spoke as if he was afraid to be heard by anyone but the one directly in front of him, and even with Vampyric hearing, Alucard's ears twitched to attention to better listen. It would be a travesty to miss even a single word after so much silence.
Breaking eye contact, the Dhampyre played with their clasped hands for a bit, laying one set out flat against each others. Trevor Belmont's fingertips only just reached passed the proximal phanlax of each of his own fingers, and barely even that if he was being honest. No, instead he was being very generous and considerate of Trevor's smaller stature. 'I am not small. You are enormous.' The Hunter had once even argued a long time ago. In the Village of Yomi, he believed. They had been scavenging for supplies in the first sign of human civilization after traversing the Sunken City. Yomi had been the start of so many experiences Alucard had come to cherish in the passing years. All from that very first offer of a bloodmeal. Or more accurately phrased, all stemming from that very first time a renowned Vampyre Hunter trusted a Dhampyre with his life. Such small hands had been tasked with so much responsibility. Well... He grinned. Average sized hands. Still too small for the job that had been asked of them.
Alucard leaned in slowly for the first kiss of many he would partake of that day, so long as the Hunter was agreeable to the idea, and revelled in the enthusiastic reciprocation. “Are you going to answer me?” The Dhampyre half teased, but half inquired seriously. “I am a bit worried about you... I did take so much of your blood by accident.”
“Are you staying?” Trevor again dodged his question to ask one of the Hunter's own.
Alucard narrowed his eyes while he attempted to decipher just what exactly was on Trevor's mind and what he was being asked, only to blush sheepishly and let out a guilty, deflated sigh once he did. “I am such an idiot, Trevor, and I will never be able to apologize to you enough, though I do promise I'll spend every waking moment trying to make it up to you.” Kissing those average sized hands he held, the Dhampyre's yellow eyes met the Hunter's blue-greys and waited for any slings and arrows he rightfully had coming, and more than deserved. There was no hostility from Trevor to be found. Just his trepidacious momentary lip quiver and a heavy scent of cautiously hopeful expectation. Alucard prayed his honesty came through. “I meant what I said yesterday, my heart. I will never leave you like that ever again. I am never going anywhere dangerous without you by my side, where we can keep each other safe. From now on, Trevor, it's you and I. No matter who or what we're up against, from a leaky faucet or mouse in the house to a world-ending or galaxy devouring disaster, it's you and I against it.” Softly, he added with his own nervously hopeful expectancy. “All right?”
Trevor Belmont's expression drained into something flat and unreadable as the infamous Belmont Pause ran it's course. Alucard had made a few promises to Trevor he'd yet to keep, so he could only imagine how hard it was for the Hunter to believe him this time, when he'd done nothing to convince a shrewd man like Trevor Belmont up until this point. But for some reason... He did. “All right.” A tiny smile pulled at pale pink lips, that hopeful scent now thick relief. Trevor was trusting him not to fuck it up this time. “Then... I am going to be just fine. We will... Sort this out together.” The brunette finally divulged, confessing sweetly in the next breath. “Even just being able to look at you again... I am so happy.”
In spite of his words, the Hunter's steel coloured eyes spilled over with quiet tears. It was all right though. Alucard found his own doing just the same. That lost sense of nostalgia was creeping up on him. That feeling that he was looking at the real Trevor Belmont, but this wasn't the same Trevor he knew somehow. Something was wrong with this version of Trevor, and he had a feeling it was more than a shattered teacup metaphor. “We have been through an awful lot of late.” The Dhampyre reiterated, calling back to their brief conversation the night previous, if only to give them both an excuse to be a touch out of sorts. Himself, a rational as to why he couldn't stop a growing suspicion he didn't want to have about his favourite person across time and space. He pulled Trevor over to him and embraced the smaller form, fitting him perfectly into his arms just as memory served. “Much of our suffering of late was in part my own fault but... We are back together again. So we will be okay... Eventually.”
“I needed to speak with you, but I can't... I'm not sure what to say unless I know what happened to you first.” The Hunter murmured against his chest. “The wounds you had were so grave. They looked like the results of cruelty, not wounds obtained in the heat of battle.” Trevor's fragile little whisper hitched, a choked sob that was bitten down and forced to heel. “...There is more than the wounds on your body. There is a... A suffering. You are tense and I am... I am still learning, so I am not sure. I'm sorry, you are so difficult to read for me, Adrian, but there is something wrong, I'm certain. Something... You don't want to say.” The Hunter choked back another hitch. “I'm sorry I am not better at this.”
Not good at what? What do you mean I am hard to read, Trevor? The Dhampyre frowned, pondering in the silence between them. In that quiet moment he did become aware of the Hunter's aura, extended beyond his physical vessel, and stronger than it should be given the man's present physical state. The essence slid along Alucard's body, butting up against his own, but never breaching or twisting with it. The glide over him was in a small way sort of nice. Sort of like a hug on top of the hug they were already locked in. Is he picking up some things from me like Joachim does..? Does he even know how to do that? I thought it was a only Desire demon thing. Alucard wasn't sure he cared for that. He would rather focus on the now and the future with Trevor than what had happened on the bottom of a cave lakebed at the hands of a fatalist High Priestess and her demon familiar rapist. Just the mere hinted thought of what the Dhampyre had been driven to submit himself to, trading in his pride and body piecemeal, even if he tried to convince himself he'd had some agency in it. Some ownership... All for the scarce stolen moments of freedom from the torturous silver cage..?
“You are hurting me.” Trevor whispered, large teary eyes watching him.
He was.
Trevor was bleeding from the few pinpricks his oval claws had managed to punch through the teeshirt. He let go in horror, but Trevor caught him just as fast as he tried to get away, shushing his litany of apologies with one of those chaste little kisses. It lingered for as long as it took Alucard's heart to stop pounding out of his chest, and then some. It was like Trevor was trying to make him breathe as slow and measured as the Hunter was. Because Trevor wanted him to, he tried his best to sync their breathing... It was calming. For the little while he could follow along. Much to his own surprise, he was the one to break away from the kiss. Something was off with Trevor and he needed to know how to help. He didn't have time to be losing it over... Something he didn't have to think about ever again.
“Adrian... Please, won't you tell me what happened to you?” A finger traced one of those darkened grooves on his forearm as the Hunter beseech him, and Alucard wanted to pull away from the scrutiny. He could not, however, without causing the Hunter further worry.
Instead he attempted to distract Trevor from his inquiry by rubbing where his careless claws had just dug into the man's shoulders, changing tactic when that didn't seem to be working, to instead seize him by the head and seek to swipe away the question with his tongue. It almost worked, the deep sensual kiss distraction. For a few seconds there he'd really believed he wriggled out of it, but the Hunter was a Belmont. Dogs with bones, every single Belmont the Dhampyre had ever had the pleasure of knowing, no matter the country or century. Trevor was looking at him expectantly, scent thick with sadness and concern. Sweet Trevor Belmont... He only wanted to help.
I am... Not ready for this discussion. I just want to be with him.
With a pang of guilt, Alucard took the lowest of roads and responded to Trevor's sweetness with his own bitter snap. “I let you handle your pain in your own way. I didn't push you, did I? I didn't want to push you so much, that I just let you try to take your own life and leave me all alone again. I let you hurt me.” Trying to curb some of his nastiness, he reminded the Hunter. “I forgave you of that, you were hurting and you didn't know what to do.” But he wasn't ready, so he had to maintain the attack. “I am not going to go that far, if that is what you are worried about. I don't even want to have to impose on myself a vow of silence like you did, but maybe I'll try it on for size and then you can see how it feels to have the only person you want to talk to ignore you for weeks on end! I just don't want to... To...”
Even with his attempt to mitigate it, it was still a terribly low blow, and Trevor even flinched in his arms. “It wasn't because I wanted to hurt you... Or not talk to you. Far from it.” The brunette pulled away from him, wiping at his fresh batch of tears. “I keep losing things. People. I can't protect anyone or keep anything anymore and I...”
“Oh Trevor, I'm sorry.” He tried to sooth, but the Hunter's sobs were beyond his ability to console. It was his own fault too. Hurting someone else just to spare himself the discomfort. “Please don't cry...”
“Is it so wrong for me to just keep what little I can!?” The Hunter slapped his soothing hands away in a flash in the pan of anger. Gone just as soon as the contact was made, replaced with a horrible and utterly morose void. When he spoke next, it was quiet and empty of all emotion. “Nobody can take my words from me Adrian. I have to give them. And I don't need to give them to you if you don't want them. Especially if you don't deserve them.”
That... Hurt. Alucard wallowed in the emptiness, watching Trevor's expression fall just as dead as his tone. It was more than deserved, he'd been trying to deflect pain and shame, after all. It hurt that he could barely keep a promise he'd made at the beginning of the same discussion, after Trevor had trusted him so easily. It hurt... How terrified he was that the last words he may ever hear out of Trevor Belmont's mouth may be the condemnation that he never deserved to hear a single one in the first place. He would need to find his silver tipped stakes if that were the case. He wasn't going to live in a world devoid of Trevor Belmont, and never hearing him again would be just as unbearable. The Hunter was stiff and cold when he reached out against his better judgment to pull him back into his embrace. He did not dare attempt to steal a chaste silent 'I Love You' kiss for fear of what the rejection would do to him, so he settled for one against the Hunter's hairline, and another at his crown.
“I really don't know what you see in me... Or what you saw in me in the first place, Trevor. I am always letting you down when you need me the most, aren't I? When I spoke up for my needs and called you out on how unfairly you treated me in the past, you... Changed. You made an effort to be better for me.” The stiff body in his arms gave him nothing to play off of. No feedback at all. “I have all these lofty dreams and fantasies of just the kind of perfect man I could be for you, and I seem to fail every chance when it comes time to put up or shut up.” Blue-grey eyes flitted up to watch his face, but looked away when the Hunter realized Alucard was looking back at him. It was a start, at least. Trevor was at least listening to him. “I still mean it... You and I against it all. Even if I am not giving you much to believe in right now. You are not wrong... There is something. And I... I want to face it with you. I don't want it to consume me or change me for the worst, although I can tell it may be doing so temporarily already.”
Trevor pulled back from him to watch his partial confession. He let the Dhampyre continue to hold his hands probably out of some form of pity, but Alucard would take it. He would always take anything Trevor Belmont was willing to give him. So it was time to start giving something back to Trevor, right?
“The High Priestess and her familiar hurt me in a way I have never been hurt before.” Voice low and baring his vulnerability and instability, he confessed as much as he could at this point and time. “On top of that awful pain, I have also failed my friends, my family, and myself. I was defeated, Trevor. Wholly defeated. I have never lost so much, and then I thought as I lay dying, that I'd also lost you.”
Something stirred in the Hunter's eyes, and Alucard was oddly certain for an uncertain anxious man, that it was not simply pity in those unique blue-greys.
“But I lived, and you came to save me. And here we are... The battleground is uneven, and I have lost much more territory than I may be able to make a last stand upon. But I am not vanquished... Not yet. There is so much that I need to do now, to make amends and try to set what I have unleashed upon the world right. And I need your help, Trevor. I really do. I need you, and Yoko, and Julius, and the Great Mother, and everyone I have known... I am going to need every single person I know to help me make this right. Even Joachim.”
That last barb even got a slight twitch of Trevor's lip. It was encouraging.
“That's coming and I can't stop it. But it's not coming today or tomorrow, or next week or even a month from now, most likely. So today when I woke up and you smiled at me... I just wanted to be with you. To talk to you. To listen to you. Not about anything important. I just wanted hear how you were feeling. What you've been up to while I was recovering. What was that music I kept hearing? Why did I keep having these clear moments of sensing you through my slumber? I just missed you, and I am glad I didn't die at the bottom of a lakebed where no one would ever find my body. I am just glad that I woke up here with you. And even if it was just for today, I didn't want to talk about what I need to do or what happened that left me smack dab at this terrible crossroad. I just want to you to tell me about your day. I just want to hear you talk about a whole lot of nothing, and watch you sleep in my arms. That's it. It was wrong of me to say what I did to you when I should have just told you the truth. This is the truth. You deserve it, not the shitty things I just said to you while trying to avoid the truth.”
“I used to be pretty bad at apologies myself.” Trevor graced him with the gift of his voice. Alucard's own tears started to flow unbidden. The fear of losing Trevor had been real. “This one was not that bad... It isn't very kind what you did, but I feel I have some part ownership over what drove you insane enough to go out into those woods alone in the first place. You will disagree, but it won't change that I feel that way. We're not even. You said some shitty things right now. But a marriage isn't about being even, now is it? It is about us versus everything else.”
A marriage? “Trevor...?”
“Don't... attack me when you want to rage at the world. I won't hurt you when I am hurt either. That's the new rule, and if either one of us breaks it, then we are no better then the ones that hurt us. If we're going to hurt one another, then we're not doing ourselves any favours and we don't belong together.”
“Okay.” Alucard agreed readily. “Okay, Trevor.”
“Okay, Adrian, Alucard, Genya... and any other guise you want to try on. That's the new rule, but the old one still applies. We're just going to be, and what happens between us, happens. No expectations other than pleasant company.”
“Okay.” He agreed again, just as readily. This was his last chance. He had a very strong feeling about that. “Thank you, Trevor... I am going to earn this.”
“We both are.” The Hunter's tone, still softer than it had been prior to the vow of silence after the terrible truth had been revealed, still managed to sound soothing. “I am sorry too, for the things I put you through. But that's neither here nor there. From now on we will only be putting ourselves through bullshit. Together.”
This is really my last chance. Both of ours, by the sound of it. Still, Alucard was in an odd and perhaps delusional way, sort of relieved. He was always a down to the wire type of guy. Pulling off amazing saves when all was thought lost. Being down to the wire with Trevor... Well... He had no choice but to fight like hell to win. He looked over at Trevor fondly, who was still quiet but no longer closed off. He was allowing Alucard to see everything, the residual sting from his thoughtless words, the anxious olive branch extended regardless, and even with the remaining film hindering his eyesight, the Dhampyre could see the Hunter had something else on his mind. The earlier insistence that Alucard share his trauma had an ulterior motive. Was it a trauma for a trauma like their first talks on the road in Dora woods, perhaps? Trevor had liked to bargain back then. But he had also been far from an open book too. Not like the Trevor before him now, letting Alucard see that he had been disappointed.
“Was there something in particular that you wanted to talk to me about?” He fished, dangling the lure for a bit without a bite. “Or was it that you needed to tell me something?”
This new openly expressive Trevor cracked a wry smile and looked at him disbelievingly, as if wondering how he had the audacity to just turn around and start asking such a question. “You said not today. Not tomorrow. And maybe not next week or even next month. When we want to talk about it, we'll both want to talk about it. That's one of the rules. We only have two, Adrian.”
Still with a lingering dread about being cut off from the one voice he cherished above all others, the Dhampyre mentally slapped himself, and tried again, hoping to be more entreating this time. “You know that you can talk to me, Trevor, about anything at all still, rules or no rules. There is something you want to tell me... So just tell me?”
Being generous with all his gifts this evening, Trevor graced him with yet another lengthy Belmont Pause. It passed the record for casual conversation and bordered on being a contender for one of the longest on record. It gave Alucard time to look the Hunter over. His eyes had dried up, though they were still red-rimmed and puffy. His hair was greasy and messy, and his skin pallid in spite of the red flush of his nose and lips from wiping at his face while he was overcome with sobs. There was a hint of defiance both in the lift of his angular jaw and in his scent. It was in all likelihood probably what had driven the Hunter lay down the law... The new Rule. It was a good one, and perhaps quite necessary. Alucard couldn't find a fault with it even after turning it over in his mind since it came into effect. It was fair and required them both to adhere to it. To adhere to each other or then really... What was the point in continuing to hurt one another?
“You first.”
Lines drawn in the sand, Alucard stepped back from the edge like the coward he fairly routinely kept proving to be. But he didn't step that far away. Eventually, he was going to cross over. “Then I suppose... Not today, like we said.” Alucard was not aware of how delicate his own deep voice could sound, so the tone of it slipping out just then was a little shocking. It couldn't be helped with the way his heart started racing at the mere thought of the silver cage and endless unpredictable water. The terror of never knowing when it would strike, but knowing it would eventually be is downfall. Joachim was well within reason to harbour such an intense fear of the untamable element, but now Alucard could fully empathize with the elder demon's long imprisonment in Walter's dark, fetid waterways.
Self reflection and newfound empathy were all well and good, but what he did not care for was the sense there was a widening gyre spiralling out between Dhampyre and Hunter, stretching them apart. Trevor's olive branch sinking into the ever expanding vortex unless Alucard could find a way to grab onto it with his own. This too was his fault. His snippishness and crass uncouth stab at the Hunter earlier the cause. Trevor Belmont's understanding but firm stance that a conversation had to be between two people was more than reasonable. Look where one sided assumptions and decisions had gotten them, after all. Attempting to fashion his own olive branch, he found a weak smile to fix in place and did his best to smooth out the emerging wrinkles of their latest, tentative, but hopefully final necessary reunion. “Given there is always tomorrow, or next week... or whenever the starts align next for us...” He hedged, gingerly, waving that olive branch around like a white flag. “And considering that we've established that I am never going to leave you in the fashion I did again... And I hope that you will grant me the same courtesy...” What else could he do? He lay the branch at Trevor's feet and bowed his head, resting his brow against the backs of the hands he held in his. It was a plea for mercy, for forgiveness, and for patience. He was trying. “We can just... be together for a little while? Pretend this is just one lazy evening amongst a thousand others?”
He found his ears twitching before he'd even realized they were responding to the airy sound of Trevor's soft laughter. The Hunter pulled him up from his place of supplication, and using their clasped hands, guided Alucard's around to hold him. Trevor gave him permission to wrap the Hunter up in his arms, so of course he did, letting out a long tension relieving sigh as he did. That the man was slotting into his frame just as relieved swelled his heart near to bursting. “No need to pretend, it is just a lazy eve amongst the thousands of more we'll share.” Trevor replied. “I don't have anywhere in particular I need to be, and it sounds like neither do you.”
“Hah.” Still in disbelief, he ran his hands a little along the Hunter's body, feeling the renewal he'd undergone in Alucard's absence more fully, drunk on opportunity to just... be. “You look so good, Trevor. So healthy. You have been taking better care of yourself?”
The Hunter blinked at him silently long enough that even though he was wearing a gentle, endearing smile, Alucard could not help but wrestle with a rising apprehension that his comment had somehow pushed the man back into his self-imposed silence. Was he really so used to them always misreading each other's signs and intent, he could not even trust a smile? Was Alucard so truly hopeless and insecure? Just as he must have been showing his frazzled nerves, Trevor's hushed voice soothed his growing fears. “With help.” He responded, looking past Alucard shoulder towards the door Joachim had last walked out of. It was intentional. Trevor did not often speak without intent. Even when using his body as language. “Lots of help, from Julius, Yoko and Hammer as well. You know, it is really a shame that you do not like to eat food... You are surrounded by so many talented chefs. It's a waste.”
Ears twitching again at the playful notes in Trevor's tone, Alucard gave in to his desire and gave the Hunter's abdomen a tiny pinch which drew out another soft laugh he was so pleased to hear. Is this really happening? The Dhampyre wondered in awe. Am I really just being given permission to pretend we're just fooling around and that I am allowed to tease him? In spite of every misstep he'd taken so far, the Hunter had confirmed tonight was just another boring one among many... “I do not mind dessert.” He played along, clarifying. “It is just that I do not enjoy any part of the after effects of eating. If I am to suffer through the awful digestive process, it may as well be for the very best part of a meal.”
Genuinely, his admission made Trevor laugh outright, going so far as to even throw back his head. “Oh, the indignity.” The Hunter teased him back. “Yoko has shown me a book recently to explain an idiom of hers I was confused by. I believe the book was titled 'Everyone Poops.' I think the idiom applies here in the strict literal sense.”
Pulling a face, Alucard replied. “Not if I can help it.” Making another just for good measure, he rolled his eyes and asked. “Don't tell me bodily functions are the topic of conversation you wanted to have first thing in the eve?”
“Yes, actually.” Trevor insisted, much to his surprise, but it made more sense when he further elaborated. “Seeing as how I need your help right now. I have never had to take a piss as badly as I do right this second but the bathroom is... So far away... And my legs are not cooperating with me.”
Well... The Hunter had been having a long nap and was now weak-kneed courtesy of Alucard's unrestrained hunger. This was a problem of his own making, so he really should own up to it and do what he could to make it right... Right? “You would like me to carry you there, I surmise.” Standing now to scoop the smaller man up into his arms, he joked. “Your chariot has arrived, my Lord.” After depositing Trevor at his destination. He stepped outside to close the door over for privacy, but made one more offer. “Please let me know if you require any more assistance. Someone to hold it for you or shake it off after. I'll take any excuse to hold that cock in my hands.” While Trevor may has shot him a sassy quip back, he had already shut the washroom door with a satisfying click.
With his focus on Trevor now broken, the aroma of fresh cut vegetables, ginger, garlic and sesame oils, hints of chilies and soya sauce, all came wafting in from his kitchen. It certainly explained where the Vampyre had run off to, and definitively the primary reason Trevor was back to a healthy weight. One of the many 'talented' chefs in Alucard's company... Jealousy be damned, Joachim was owed a proper thank you. For keeping the teacup both filled and safe. Behind him the running bath faucet briefly caught his attention, reminding himself once again that he really needed to get the sink repaired. Using the tub and shower to wash his hands was going to get old real fast.
“Peux-tu m'aider?” A defeated muffled sound came from beyond the closed door. “S'il te plaît.”
While again Alucard had to admit he still did not speak French, he was pretty sure he recognized what was no doubt the word 'aid' in that spew of garbley-gook. He found Trevor seated along the rim of the tub, sheepishly holding his still wet hands out for Alucard to take, and help him to his feet.
“I am stuck.” He explained with a sigh, switching back to his accented English.
“I think I understood the help me part, but what was the rest of that supposed to mean?” Alucard inquired just to make conversation as he hoisted the weakened brunette back up into his arms. It was just easier to carry him than help him limp along... Plus the Dhampyre would be lying to say he did not love holding Trevor like a blushing bride stepping over the threshold of their new home.
“Please.” Trevor answered simply.
“Are you telling me that whole mouthful was just to say one word? Your native tongue sounds exhausting.”
“This English is exhausting. You have several words for the same thing, and singular words that mean a dozen others given the context, but I am making the effort for your benefit, since your companions find it easier to converse in English, and you yourself seem to prefer it.”
“My companions are your great-grandchildren, need I remind you.” Alucard brushed him off with a snort.
“Need I remind you that I was not aware of that fact when I decided to make the effort to better fit into your new life and friendships here. I did it for you. I know enough languages as is.”
Accepting his minor mistake, Alucard briefly kissed the Hunter as a silent apology. “You are always so sweet to me, Trevor Belmont. If you feel so strongly about this topic, we will have plenty of time for you to teach me, if you'd like. Exhausting or not, I do love to hear you speak your mother-tongue, and I have been recently informed by our Vampyre taskmaster that we are leaving for my... Well, your new home. I think you will find it to your liking...”
“Joachim said much the same. A quaint little village hiding an underground city for demons.”
“Did he?” Alucard deflated a little, sliding Trevor back into place on the bed. “He spoiled the surprise.”
Perceptive boy that he was, Trevor reached out to lift his chin back up so that they were once again meeting each others gaze. “No, he didn't say much more than that, instead telling me that I should ask you more about it, in actuality. You are so quick to assume the worst when it comes to your old friend, you know that?”
Blithely ignoring that last little comment, the Dhampyre instead wondered out loud. “Are you asking me about the village now?”
“I guess I am, Adrian. This safe place you've made for people like you... A haven for demons, devils and everyone in between, I am very curious what it is like. You did tell me you were going to build such a home for the Sypha's of the world. You said you would build schools and libraries, as well. Rebuild what Dracula's hordes tore down, restore the lands...”
“I did do all of those things.” He revealed proudly, before a hint of modesty tapped him on the shoulder. “Not everything was successful, and some backfired rather spectacularly, but I did try to do it all in the end. I still am trying to accomplish some of those tasks even to this day. You will see when we return to Wallachia, the historic building the Church's central headquarters has taken up residency in for the last two centuries was built with my Father's ill-gotten gains, for one thing. One of the universities I paid for also used to host a few demonology classes that were just filled to the brim with superstitions and inaccuracies and hearsay. Those professors had probably never laid eyes on a live demon in their whole lives let alone conversed with one. And I had paid for it! Rather insulting, wouldn't you agree?”
“Changing minds takes time and persistence. My mother used to say so...” Trevor offered up in response to his vexation at transgressions past.
It pulled from within him a genuinely warm grin, erasing the ire. “Sonia Belmont was a very forward thinking woman. My Mother as well would lecture me with much the same wisdom. It never fails to surprise me when you parrot a lesson of Sonia's and I hear her words in my own Mother's voice.” He laughed, gazing fondly over the little treasured teacup in his hands. “I had such a hard time as a child understanding why I needed to be so careful and secretive. Centuries later, I am still not that much better off. Change is not quick for some things, while entirely too fast for others. Anyway, that is long in the past and we are currently discussing our near future. Which I am happy to confirm involves a cute little house in the mountains surrounded by thick, lush forests. Just like our little fantasy life, but I made it a reality. All that's left is to finally show it to you, and hope that it will live up to the one you had in your dreams back in Lupu.”
“I seem to recall telling you back then something to effect that I would go anywhere, do anything, and be happy to do so, so long as it was with you. Did I not say something like that?” Trevor's small smile widened when Alucard bit his lower lip to keep a momentary ugly-happy cry inside, and nodded. “I seem to recall also telling you more recently that anywhere starts to feel like home... When I am with you, Adrian.” Trevor Belmont spoke so sweetly, with such a firm deadly seriousness in his eyes. He meant every word. Every single one. “It does sound so lovely. If there is no swing for us to sit upon on your porch already, then I will build you one. Promise.” Chaste kiss returned, Trevor leaned back and tilted his head. “So the little house is where all of your things have been sent to by Joachim? Almost everything that was in this home is gone now.”
“Are they already? Well, he was never one to waste time. I am sure you've noticed by now, having spent all this time in his company.” Of course he couldn't help the little stirring of jealousy admitting that. But it was true. Trevor had spent weeks alone with the Vampyre by this point. And he still lived. Nobody but Leila could manage that and stay in the Vampyre's good graces.
“That's not true, Joachim wastes lots of time.” Trevor countered. “We have been doing nothing but wasting time since you were laid to rest. One thing we have been doing is watching these things called movies. They are like plays, and some of them appear like moving drawings, looking like black and white ink pen and brush strokes, while others are occasionally in colour and performed by real live human actors. There are so many stories and tricks a stage play could never pull off, and the costumes, Adrian.” Even with the film on his eyes, Alucard could see the sparkle in Trevor's now. “I just can't get over the details and the opulence and... Oh there is a word I learned for this...” The Hunter hummed before excitedly landing on the term he was searching for. “Glamorous!” Pleased as punch to have recalled the correct English word, Trevor next cocked his head to the side, and his features started to warm up. “Oh, I am sorry to ramble. Joachim told me that you did not care so much for these movies. I didn't mean to bore you with... Costumes.”
Now, now, Trevor. Why do you seem so embarrassed about a fascination with Hollywood era garb? Knowing Joachim, you're probably making your way through all the Golden Age's filmography. The little flash of vulnerability about the interest made Alucard want to assuage him that there wasn't anything wrong with his zeal for Hollywood glamour. After all, what was the point of a set or costume designer's work if not for it to be lauded and admired? “It is not that I do not like films or the stage shows many are based upon. More often than not I am juggling far too many pressing matters to allow myself the time-sink to properly enjoy one. Especially the modern movies. What ever happened to the sixty to ninety minute flick? It is terribly selfish of these modern screen writers and directors to expect me to give their CGI vomited mess three or more hours of my time just to have every film end with a big blue laser in the sky. If I wanted to see that, I could just ask Yoko to blast some witch-fire towards the heavens.”
“It does sound like you do not care for them.” Trevor stated plainly.
There was an open acceptance of the Dhampyre's opinion written all over his face, but Alucard caught just a small whiff of resignation in the Hunter's scent that made him pause for thought. Was it because the Hunter was hoping Alucard actually did enjoy films? Is it because... you were hoping you could watch one with me? That was... really sweet, actually. The man did enjoy those French 'war songs' and novels. Of course he would like movies. They were books you could read together with your loved ones without having to fight over the pages or where the lamp shone. Now it was his turn to tip Trevor's head up a touch, drawing his attention from where his hands toyed with limp bedding back onto the demon before him.
“There are a few films that I enjoy. There are no fancy costumes or wild sets in the ones I like to view though.” He warned like he was making an excuse. “I suppose I am attracted to stories about the relationships between people more than ones about historical events or great battles. It may be because I have seen so much doom and gloom in my life... Or perhaps just that I am a hopeless romantic.” Trevor didn't seem too put off by his narrow preference, so it encouraged him to offer. “We could watch one of my favourites to try, if you'd like that? I won't promise you'll enjoy them as much as the ones Joachim is showing you. I think we may have a difference in taste in so far as fictional works.”
“Okay!” Trevor jumped at the offer, much to Alucard's pleasure. “We have maybe not so different a taste. I did like that book you were reading back in Lupu. The one with umm... The uhh... The pictures.”
For a hot minute Alucard had to really think about that. Five hundred and fifty-some odd years ago was a long time to recall what tome he was lugging around, and being a voracious reader in years past, he'd read countless novels, encyclopedias and plays. But a book with pictures that the memory alone would spark such a whispered confession and blush out of a grown man? He couldn't think of anything in his father's small library in his childhood home. Was it a book he had purchased along the journey...?
Oh!
“Was the book you are speaking of written in Latin?” When Trevor nodded, Alucard couldn't help but reach out to give him a playful squeeze. “What you liked was my 15th Century porn! Is that what you're telling me, Trevor?” The Hunter seemed a little confused, but his blush was brightening regardless. “There's no need to be ashamed, you are a flesh and blood living being. Frankly, I'd be concerned if you didn't like it. You'd have to be dead not to enjoy such invigorating tales.”
“What is that word you used just now? Does it mean what I think it does?”
Alucard laughed out loud again. “Porn? Please, you have to tell me what you think it means first.”
Surprising him yet again this evening, the usually innocent assuming Hunter chewed his bottom lip for only a moment before he leaned back in closely to whisper. “I think it means an erotic work.” Blue-grey eyes twinkled mischievously. “Am I right?”
Grin splitting his face, he snapped forward to capture that devilish little mouth again, pulling Trevor down to lay side by side. The Hunter shifted closer until they were face to face, sharing a pillow, legs enmeshed hopelessly.
“I guess I am.” Trevor remarked with a sly grin of his own, the drawstrings of Alucard's sweater twisting playfully in deft pale hands. For a little while, it looked as if he'd be quite content to just partake in that activity for the remainder of the night.
For a little while, Alucard would have been just as content to watch Trevor's relaxed expression and mindless fidgets. But he was a needy and greedy demon, so he always wanted more of Trevor's attention. “So... Films are what you've been keeping busy with while I was indisposed?”
“Some of the time. Mostly during the quiet hours of early morn. Sometimes I fall asleep, even. I kept using your nice coat as a blanket... It smelled like your perfume still, and it made me feel better. I'm sorry if it's stretched out or missing stitches now.”
“Cologne.” He corrected automatically, but Trevor only gave him a wry grin. Old habits died hard. “I suppose when I wear it next, I'll get to just smell you. Sounds like a win-win to me.”
“Joachim has also been teaching me some things as well, to pass the time. Things I don't want to learn, like the torture instrument he keeps calling a violin. But also things I do have a vested interest in. Demon customs, Demon Hierarchy, demon... Arrangements.” Trevor paused to chuckle to himself, likely at some inside joke between the two, and Alucard forced himself to accept that little exclusive exchanges between the elder demon and his beloved were likely going to keep cropping up. That was an inescapable part of his new reality. Trevor did not exist in a vacuum, after all. “Mostly about Desire demons in general given you are both ones, and a near identical sub-species under the Moroi class. But also what he knows of Avarice, Wrath, Sloth and Gluttonous demons as well. It's very fascinating to hear stories about all the history I have bypassed by whatever means that has me laying in bed this year next to you. I have also been learning how to sense auras better, and a little of dissecting and interpreting them.”
So that is what I was feeling in my dreams then.
“My Clan has always been able to sense the Nighthoards. To know a Vampyre on sight. Even without the whip. That was part of what made the villagers afraid of me. That I just knew when danger was abound.” The Hunter frowned. “I guess I can understand why... It is a supernatural talent. But you would think having a living demon alarm would have been more welcome in polite company... But that was all I could ever sense. Danger. Harmful enchantments and hexed artifacts. Joachim has been teaching me how to use my own aura to feel the world around me. I can tell when I am touching wood or metal very reliably now, although it is still very hard to tell what shape the things I am touching are. It's like that little story I read; Maybe you've read it too? About the three blind men each touching a great elephant from different angles and trying to describe what the elephant is? I am only one blind man... It's too hard to feel the whole elephant yet.”
Such a deep thinker, that Trevor Belmont. I am never not impressed by his depth.
“Oh, and plastic. It doesn't feel like anything to me most of the time. Often I don't even know it's there.”
That made the Dhampyre snort. “You want to hear a secret?” Trevor did, so he divulged. “I have been defeated by my inability to sense plastic so many times, I've lost track. You know what I do now?” Having the Hunter's rapt attention caressing his ego and feeding his need for an audience, he grinned like a showman. “I flip the script. What is this thing I can't feel? Well, if I know what's beside it is a metal spoon, a wood and lead pencil, a wool blanket and a houseplant, then that void's got to be a plastic water bottle. The shape of the negative space can be just as telling.”
Watching Trevor internalize his impromptu lesson and delight in the new way to tackle the posited problem live was also a deeply ego-stroking event. It felt good to be the person Trevor was accepting advise from all over again, just like the good old days on the road he had such rosy-tinted goggles about.
“Thank you for the tip.” The Hunter enthused.
It was so nice to be appreciated. “So that is how I kept sensing you while I recuperated then. You were practising near my sarcophagus.”
This question made the Hunter shift self-consciously, but he did meet Alucard's eyes when he replied. “Yes... I missed you terribly. Joachim first offered to teach me about auras with the intent that I could be able to use it to feel that you were getting better. So I would stop worrying so much and... Sulking, I believe is how he phrased it. I was sulking too much while waiting for you, and it was not good for my health.”
“Yeah, that does sound like something he would say... I am sorry that I made you sulk, but I am happy to hear that I was missed.”
Trevor was not done detailing his activities, however, so in the next breath he revealed yet another new past time. “Most recently he started instructing me on how better to sword-fight. It was a very exciting first lesson. I think I would like to continue under his tutelage.”
Et tu, Brute? While Alucard didn't outright pout, he sure as hell came close to it. “If you were interested in picking up a blade, I hope you know you could have asked me any time. It would have been my upmost pleasure to give you some free pointers.”
“Well I am not so sure about that... Your sword is very large, Adrian. Joachim gave me one I could handle.”
Did I hear that correctly?
Oh, he had. The little blue-eyed devil's lips were curling just too subtly for it not to be on purpose. The little bastard knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying it, even! “Joachim gave you a sword you could handle, did he?” Yellow eyes narrowing, the Dhampyre willed the red to stay clear. “Tell me, Trevor Belmont, what does Joachim's sword feel like to handle?”
“He did.” Trevor repeated, playing into Alucard's skyrocketing flash of envy, and leaving the Dhampyre to choke on it for a small Belmont Pause. Satisfied the younger demon was bristling with what was very logically an unnecessary jealous fire of Alucard's own stupid failings, Trevor wriggled a hairsbreadth closer to sooth his wounded ego with a flirty little elaboration. “Well, he had to if I was going to learn. It was a familiar and safe size for me to practice with... Yours was so large and intimidating. But now that I have some practice under my belt, I am thinking that a little danger would be even more... Exciting.”
The fucking cocktease. I love him. “It doesn't bite so long as you are gentle with it. I could show you how it prefers to be handled these days.”
“My days have been quite studious of late. What is a little more after-hours mentoring between friends, Adrian?”
“I don't know how you fooled me the first time into believing you were this virginal little maiden, Trevor Belmont. You are a dark-haired temptress with honey dripping between your barbed words. I've said it before and I will say it again. You are an incubus, but since you are my incubus, I forgive you for your lascivious antics... Because I missed you terribly as well. I hope you know that you were all I thought about while we were apart.”
“I do... And I am glad to hear you say it as many times as you desire.”
Feeling loved, seen, cherished and most importantly wanted, Alucard closed his eyes for a minute and just breathed in. The scents all around him mingled delightfully. Trevor's sweet aroma, the clean powder of laundered linens, the cool winter air sneaking between dried out window caulking, the herbed and chili heated dishes being prepared just on the other side of his bedroom wall. Even the wild freshness of Joachim's natural perfume blended well together into something he recognized as home. All that was missing was the dry spice of Leila's notes to complete the scent profile... And for once in a long, long... Very long time, even the thought of Leila made Alucard homesick. He wanted to be home. Soon, he would be.
Opening his eyes, he smiled bittersweetly at the lovely brunette. “So that is everything you have been up to. Swords, sorcery, and shows?”
“And shopping.” Trevor was quick to add.
“Shopping?”
“Yes. It's grown so cold now so we went shopping for some winter boots and a winter coat, and then another leather coat. That one is not for winter, but it is gold, and I love it.” Trevor divulged in an even more hushed voice than the already demure-sounding one Alucard was just getting used to since Trevor's moratorium on words ended. For some reason, it made Alucard suspect that the Hunter's ability to sound both shy and excited about his overt investment of the new garments stemmed from some self-conscious, self-imposed shame. As if by admitting his interest in such a topic beyond the utilitarian usage was a dirty little secret. It was perfectly all right to have clothes that weren't just clothes you needed.
“How flashy.” The Dhampyre prompted, hoping to encourage the man to keep talking, and as a gentle way to communicate that he was more than content to listen to Trevor talk about his new clothes. It didn't have to be a dirty secret.
A strange and giddy little sensation was settling over him at the realization he was laying in his bed nose to nose with Trevor, both men dressed down in sleepwear, talking a whole lot about nothing. When was the last time they had just indulged in such casual intimacy, shooting the shit in bed next to one another? Lupu, most likely. Lupu had been the only true time he got to not just pretend to play house with Trevor, but actually explore the possibility. For the Hunter as well, Lupu had been the only time during their shared ordeal where the chance to carry on about as if dirty floor and dusty counter tops were all there was to concern themselves with. Where the biggest headache was trying to decide what was for dinner. Lupu was where Alucard had finally learned what a domesticated Trevor Belmont was like, and decided for himself that relaxed affectionate man discovered in peace times was everything Alucard could want for. Did Trevor have a similar epiphany back then, seeing Alucard in hearth and home? Perhaps he would ask one of these days, if Trevor fell in love with him as much as he did with the Hunter during the penultimate days.
“I am willing to bet that your new gold coat hugging this healthy frame must look just... Glamorous.”
“I don't know about that...” Trevor deflected, tone and scent both carrying strong notes of nervous energy. He looked shy, for lack of a better word. This Trevor he'd woken up to was oddly timid about the strangest things. “There are so many styles of dress in this country. Or would it be more correct to say in this era? The spoil for choice, does it exist beyond this city?”
“It does.” Alucard explained, still trying to puzzle out why Trevor was so cagey yet fixated on the current topic. “The world of fast fashion is a global phenomenon... So you were just shopping for coats?”
“No... Clothes too. Joachim thinks that you are dressing me how you like to dress yourself, not how I would choose to present myself if I had a choice in the matter. He wanted me to pick out a few garments on my own so I would know what kind of styles I prefer.”
“It seems that Joachim is just full of opinions when it comes to you, haven't you noticed? I hope you are not just doing what you believe he would like instead of what you think I would want you to do.”
“Honestly, Adrian, I have not and will not be doing either of those things. You should know that I do as I please. I thought I had made that very clear the first time we met?” Even in that soft, timid voice Trevor Belmont had brought with him out of the Mute phase, the ghost of the Hunter's initial haughtiness was present. The overconfident swagger he'd masked his later confessed fear with for the sake of completing his family's sentence. Hearing it now, even just the spectre of near boastful assurity, well... It made one wonder what exactly Trevor could be hiding behind it this time. There was no Dracula or Belmont call of duty to adhere to.
Still, Alucard played along because they had already decided together today was not the day to ask that kind of question. His suspicion was tucked away as a later food for thought. There was something about him questioning Trevor's agency that ruffled the Hunter, but the Hunter did not want to be seen ruffled about. Ultimately, even if it was in a demure and mousy way, Trevor was still speaking to him. The opposite, silence, the Dhampyre would not have been able to withstand again. “Of course, I stand corrected. How could I have forgotten that the renowned Trevor Belmont, Vampyre Hunter, was his own man. How foolish of me.” He pacified with a warm smile. “I am eager to see what you have picked out for yourself then, considering your unorthodox selection of accessories.” He teased.
“My... Accessories?” Trevor tilted his head, looking genuinely baffled.
“Yes. Your little bunny ears.” The Dhampyre pointed out, reaching over to tug lightly on the very glittery headband in question. “If there is a Playboy Bunny outfit in your shopping bags, I won't complain.”
“My... Bunny ears?” Still baffled, the brunette blinked slowly, reaching up gingerly to touch the cutesy hairband. Feeling around for the baby-sized bunny ear, a stricken expression fixed in place. “I never took this off...” Even viewed through the film coating Alucard's vision, Trevor's crimson stained cheeks stood out. “That means everyone... Oh, that means my grandchildren saw me wearing this thing!” Defeat expelled on a long drawn breath, Trevor lamented. “This is so embarrassing.”
“It's so cute.” Alucard replied sweetly, trying to reassure him. “It really suits you, so there's no need to feel that way.”
“Everything looks cute on me!” Trevor insisted seriously, finger jabbing, as if daring Alucard to refute his proposed truth. He wouldn't dream of it, for one thing. For another, it was definitely not the deflection and disregard that the Dhampyre had been expecting. “That doesn't mean that I am willing to let just anyone to see me in everything.”
The outburst had his mind going in dangerous places, regardless. “Are... Are the bunny ears for me? Or are they just something you want to throw on when you're alone to enjoy? There's nothing wrong with looking cute for your own sake.” That last part came out in a bit of a rush.
“They are for Joachim, if you really want to know. He picked them out.” Trevor admitted freely.
Alucard was now very positive his left eye was twitching, and his appeasing smile all clenched teeth. His lips had certainly pulled back from his fangs, and though small, they were as descended as they'd ever been in his entire life. When Trevor huffed and gave his arm a shove, it took every ounce of restraint, every iota of willpower, every thread of patience and understanding not to rip the bunny-band right off that head and some greasy strands of hair with it.
“You were enjoying them as well until just a second ago. What does it matter where they came from or who got them for me? But if you are going to be all bristle-tailed like an angry cat, then--”
Some rational sliver of Alucard's seething mind had his hand reaching out to stop Trevor from removing the ears before the brunette could tear them free. That same sliver reminded him in a calm rational manner that seemed impossible given the absolute rage, that Alucard had asked who the ears were for. Trevor had just answered him. He had asked, and Trevor had trusted him with the honest truth. Because it... Wasn't a big deal. It was a headband. A glittery cute hair decoration marketed to women and young girls. It looked to be made of plated nickel silver and adorned with rhinestones. A cheap item, not even a carefully selected or custom made ornament. Joachim had probably saw bunny ears on a rack from out the corner of his eye, and for a momentary laugh, thought of his 'Rabbit'. It was just a costume accessory purchased on demon impulse. A gag gift. Alucard's reaction to this was very stupid. He was being completely unreasonable.
I need to be more reasonable. It doesn't matter how hard it is. I can be... Rational about this.
Only the demon god of envy Leviathan itself could know how he managed to sound calm and soothing when his lips parted to barter for peace. “Please keep them on, if that is what you would like. I'm still enjoying them.” He lied through his fangs. Fucking Joachim. Who even knows what he's been filling your head with while I've been out cold. Auras and swordplay and demon customs? What is he playing at? “I mean it; Your little ears are very cute. They look good on you. I just wanted to know where they came from, what they were for, and if there was any more to it beyond a pair of ears. That's all.”
For a tense uncertain moment, Trevor's hand held steady, the slight resistance to remove the headband maintained against Alucard's to keep it in place. There was such a naked vulnerability once more in the Hunter's expression, mixed with a cautious hopefulness. He wanted to believe Alucard's lie, which made the Dhampyre feel all the more guilty it was a false statement. A cope to do and say the right thing, even if he did not truly agree with it. He was still irrational about a nothing-sandwich. Eventually, Trevor relented, choosing to believe Alucard's forked tongue and fib that it was perfectly acceptable to play dress-up for Joachim's sake, as the namesake of his little pet-name he'd chosen for the Hunter, no less. Alucard's Hunter. Not a mere rabbit plaything, but his treasured beloved.
Enough. He answered you so honestly because to him, the gift is trivial. It doesn't mean anything to Trevor but a fun and quirky accessory. Recalling the Hunter's past comments about Alucard's bat form, his boyhood toys, or small children and animals, he managed to claw his way back to a true sense of calm. Trevor just likes cute things. It's an endearing side to him, and there's nothing wrong with that.
“What more were you hoping for?” The Hunter inquired in the softest tone yet. “You wanted to see a play bunny outfit? What is a play bunny?”
While already calmed via a stroke of logic in an illogical storm of jealousy, this line of questioning removed the lingering sour taste straight out of his mouth. This would be a more than acceptable distraction from his constant battle with a green-eyed monster. Reaching blindly for his phone, it was found plugged in right where it should be, but where he knew he had not left it. Joachim must have both found it strewn along the floor with his discarded pants the day he left, and returned it to where it belonged. The Vampyre was thoughtful that way. Unlocking the device was a little challenging with his filmy eyesight, but once in, he was able to see the screen clearly enough to search the internet for images of the famous Playboy Playmates of old.
Snuggling up closer and half turning on his back so that Trevor could more easily see the screen, he explained. “Playboy Bunny. They were also called Playmates. Decades ago there was a printed media that was published for gentlemen. It was an erotic work, called a pornographic magazine. 'Porno' for short.”
“Or porn. That's where the word you used earlier came from.” Trevor connected the dots, nodding sagely with a near comical neutral expression. There wasn't any hint of a blush or sheepishness, but then again the Hunter was so focused on the aspect of learning... Not exactly paying much heed to what subject he was learning about.
Alucard tried to keep a straight face at that. “That's right. These fine young ladies, the Playmates, were the mascots of many a gentleman's fantasies. See here, this is the classic Playboy Bunnysuit.” Forcefully containing his grin, he watched Trevor scroll through the images with no doubt if you asked him, a strictly academical curiosity, and took turns trading his gaze between the vintage images on screen and the very pretty bunny-ear adorned man laying at his side. It wasn't too much a stretch to start wondering how the classic Playmate outfit, complete with little bow-tie and wrist cuffs, would skim the lithe body next to his own, hugging a perfectly tapered, eye-catching waist. Would the little ribbon affixed to the hip of Trevor's Playmate bodysuit say his name or something more?
Funny enough, Trevor did not seem too impressed with the Bunnies. “They are very beautiful women, but the costume is not a very inspired design.” He surmised. “I think in the other photographs with blankets and robes, their features are more flattered.”
Okay, I wasn't expecting that either. A fifteenth Century man who'd never seen a pornographic image in his entire goddamn life was now critiquing the centrefolds. What were the odds? Alucard certainly didn't have that one on his Bingo card. “I'll have you know, these Bunnies were every red-blooded man's dreamgirls from the 1950's straight through the 1980's. And you're calling them uninspired.” He scoffed.
“The suit just needs more... delicacy for me, I guess. Softer accents. A little sparkle, but subtle. Nothing overpowering. Finesse.” The Hunter tried to explain his reasoning seriously, which Alucard just could not take seriously at all. A man born barely out of the dark ages criticizing a porno rag he literally just learned existed. “The white version is the best one of these.” He settled on and clamped his mouth shut once he'd realized Alucard couldn't stop grinning at him in utter – but amused – disbelief.
He couldn't let it go that easily though, so he pressed the man for more info. “Really, you think so? I am partial to the vintage green and the classic black. Once upon a time, only the most experienced Playmates got to wear the black Bunnysuit.”
Reeled back in, Trevor asked suspiciously. “Experienced... How?”
“Why, experienced at being Bunnies.” It was the perfect non-answer, but however Trevor had chosen to interpret it brought back that deep crimson flush. That was such a good look for the man, even with the glittery hairband. “This was what I was talking about when I made that earlier comment. Just so we're clear, you don't have a white, soft-accented, subtly sparkly Bunnysuit to wear for me in your shopping bags, I take it?”
Trevor, still flushed and smiling in that new shy way he kept presenting himself as, would not meet Alucard's eyes, but fixed his gaze instead on his lips. “I'm sorry, but no...” Almost... The conversation about bunny costumes almost ended right there. It could have been the natural conclusion, but Trevor's strange new overt, while attempting to be covert, fascination with clothing and his obvious struggle to contain and be ashamed of it, kept pulling him back in. Almost as if to himself and no one else, the Hunter whispered. “I think I would look good in something like that... How I have the design in my head. If I could find the material to make one...”
Whether he'd meant to use his inner voice or not, Alucard was never going to be able to pretend he had not heard the words that had just spilled out of Trevor's mouth. He would never be able to unhear them. The question of what Trevor's version of a Playmate suit would entail was going to take up residence in Alucard's mind until they brought this vision into reality. He had to focus on this right now because the alternative was burning this house down, then the neighbourhood, all of Tokyo, and then maybe even next door Saitama in a fit of frustration because he was horny as all fucking hell, laying next to a wannabe Playboy Playmate, and his goddamn dick wasn't working!
“I want to see your design. I know where to get any materials your heart desires. Money is no object for this project of yours.” He stated his offer with the deathly seriousness of a high-risk high-stakes business deal, and knew he had closed the sale when Trevor flicked his wide-eyed gaze up to meet firm yellow before timid shyness caused him to look away. It was too late. Trevor couldn't resist the offer.
The Hunter seemed poleaxed by the seriousness of his offer, eyes darting about the room as if looking for a trap about to be sprung. “That is... Okay?” Uncertain voice barely asked audibly.
“Yes?” He replied, unsure exactly what the issue was. He'd assumed based on how readily Trevor had already shown he seemed to enjoy spending Alucard's money, whether back on their journey, in the town markets of Lupu, or on expensive imported food here in Japan, that the Hunter was well aware Alucard's wallet was pretty much always open to the Hunter's whims. What was the paltry cost of fabric and accoutrements to the Dhampyre?
“Really?” Trevor could barely speak loud enough to ask again, as if he was afraid to believe it and then have the rug pulled out from under him. “It is okay if I want to... Want to...”
Utterly perplexed himself now, Alucard attempted to finish the man's struggling sentence. “Is it okay if you want to... Make a bunny themed costume to wear?” Why was the Hunter so cagey and weird about asking for money to pay for a pile of fabric, ribbon and buttons?
Oh, by the gods, I am an idiot. The Dhampyre chastened himself once his own epiphany stuck. Is this exactly what his whole deal has been about? This is why he's been cagey and weird about the clothes topic all night; He's never seen so many different styles of dress until recently. All the new types of vestments and accessories at his fingertips, coming from a marriage to an accomplished seamstress whom he modelled dresses for... Of course he's fascinated by them. Maybe even a touch obsessed. Clothes today are allowed to be cute, while no longer so cut and dry male or female, and Trevor loves cute things. The Playmate costume isn't sexy to him, he thinks it's cute... He thinks he can make it cuter.
Oh, but then with a bit more introspection, he next found that his obliviousness and lack of awareness at reading the signs went even further than that.
It's those things and so much more. His mental hurdle he's struggling to get over is that he is the one who wants to make the cute thing. And wear it. And he is a man . He thinks he's not allowed to want to do that. He's lived his whole life under 15 th Century expectations for a Lord and a firstborn son expected to carry his name. The expectations of a man. He can't reconcile the fact that he can just state that he wants to do this 'girly' thing and be allowed to follow through with no consequence. He can't even accept openly that he liked to choose his own clothes from the shops and play dress-up for his own benefit. Oh Trevor, you were born in the wrong time, my sweet love.
Alucard had to right this completely wrong misconception, for Trevor and every other little or old boy or girl who was ever told they weren't allowed to like the thing they liked for someone else's arbitrary dumbass reason. Leaning in to press another chaste silent 'I Love You' to the Hunter's lips, with all the compassion and acceptance he held in his heart and had learned to be proud of, he made a promise. “It is absolutely beyond okay if you want to make one, wear one, admire one, or anything else that catches your fancy. You're okay, Trevor.”
The Hunter inhaled sharply, holding his breath while a Belmont Pause run it's course, but the redness in the brunette's face actually faded from one passing moment to the next. “That is... Yes. What I... Wanted.” He whispered as if sharing a dirty secret again. “You don't think it is weird or... Odd?”
“You are okay, Trevor.” He reiterated. “The only weird thing is that you think you are not allowed to just say what you want to do out in the open without all the hushed whispers. There is really no need for that. It's fine.” Just because the Hunter might still be overly defensive, expecting a 'Ha Ha, made you look' or some other macho bullshit, he planted another, hopefully reassuring, kiss on his lips before he teased lightheartedly. “All I really want to know is, does your desire to make and wear a cute little white rabbit costume mean that all of this time you had me believing you were just your wife's dress model, you were actually helping her make them too?”
“Well...” Trevor bit his lower lip.
I'll be a monkey's fucking uncle. I was just kidding! Who knew? Who would have ever guessed? Certainly not me.
“I learned some things, of course, by watching her work. She was always much better at the actual task.”
“You don't say.” Alucard grinned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “You know, Trevor, it has been five hundred and sixty-one years since you were helping Estée back in France. The only people in this house right now are yourself, a Dhampyre, and a Vampyre. You can just... Be honest about yourself for once. Let yourself be free and unencumbered by what you think you're supposed to say. I assure you, nobody in this house is going to drag you out into the middle of town and string you up by the gallows for telling the truth.”
“What do y-you mean?”
“Who really was behind those enviable dresses the Parisian High-Court ladies lusted over, that your pretty little red-headed wife sewed?”
“Y-You just said yourself. She sewed them.”
“I've seen your drawings and sketches. You are very talented and have a wonderful eye for accuracy and anatomy. But the best part about the entry you sketched of my likeness for your Bestiary was undoubtedly my coat, Trevor. Who helped Estée make them? Not just model them, but worked on them. Who helped her?”
“...I helped her, all right. Only a little bit. She was better at it.”
There we fucking are. Practically six centuries later I finally get the whole story out of this guy. It's like pulling teeth sometimes with him.
“That is what I thought... I am pretty sure you are a lot better at it than you claim to be, as well. Joachim insists you are an astute student, one who is eager to learn and quick to catch on. I'm confident little Estée didn't have to show you too many times before you could mimic her needlework. But you always talked about her talented handiwork with the most sincerity and never her creative design. So you know in light of all this, I have got to ask you one more question, right?”
Trevor was giving him such a wide-eyed wary look, but the Hunter couldn't seem to pull himself away. What was that saying...? The truth would set you free? Trevor Belmont looked like a man who wanted to be out of the cage.
“Who was designing the dresses, Trevor? Which one of you two royal strawberry and Vatican wine stealing miscreants was the true mastermind behind Estée's ballroom gowns?”
“B-both of us.”
“Really...” Alucard hummed. “I promise you, it's not 1476, or 1479 anymore. The only thing you're doing is protecting a lie if you can't be honest. There's no danger here. The only person you are hurting would be yourself as well. So... Are you going to tell me which one of you had the pretty patterns and accessories all planned out, or are you not?”
“You really mean it. That it's okay? Even if it was... Someone like me? It wouldn't be...weird?”
“It's okay either way. Really. Who designed the pretty stuff?”
No longer that barely audible whisper but still nowhere near close to the conversational tone Trevor had had prior to the vow of silence, the stubborn, defensive, and needlessly cautious Hunter surrendered, inhaling sharply once more before he confessed to a five hundred and sixty-one year cover up. One that meant literally nothing to anyone else walking this planet at current, yet the unburdening of it could possibly make a world of difference for the one man who thought he had to carry the weight under lock and key.
“Both of us.” Trevor answered clearly, and it sounded honest. Just as honest as the next confession did with his next breath. “Mostly, it was me. They were... Mostly my designs.”
Like pulling fucking teeth with this man. The revelation did make one wonder what else that Trevor had shared with him about his life that was only a half-truth, or a simple scratching of the surface. He didn't waste too much time wondering about it, however, given that the two of them were soon going to find themselves with a whole lot of time enough to have these 'whole lot of nothing' talks. He did acknowledge with a strange satisfaction that this desire of his to have even one night to talk about silly pointless things, had in actuality kicked off one of the realest conversations the two men had ever shared with one another. A silly story about shopping for a gold coat had ended with Alucard learning some deeply guarded and suppressed aspect of Trevor Belmont he may not have ever otherwise uncovered. There was still so much to learn about and from each other.
“If that's the case, then I truly cannot wait to see your costume design. Or what you have picked out for yourself at the store already. Would you be open to the idea of letting me watch you work on it? I know how to craft weapons, and I can make a pair of gloves or mend my boots, but honestly I do not know much else about the intricacies of fashioning clothes.”
Still stunned by his confession, Trevor let out a nervous laugh, perhaps still waiting for some negative implication or accusation to come crashing down upon him now that he'd given up the game, so to speak. Poor brunette earnestly hopeful but not yet convinced he was allowed to have this passionate interest in 'women's work' and not be run out of town for it. Or mocked religiously and flagellated.
“You watched me make your whip... I would be interested in seeing your handiwork as well. For this, but also you said you did woodworking as well. I don't know much about that either, I must confess.” He hoped he sounded as encouraging as he meant to be, even throwing in the more 'masculine' of the hobbies Trevor had previously mentioned partaking in, in some attempt to help balance the Hunter's teetering fragile male pride. To help ease him into acceptance of his newly liberating reality.
“A-all right.” The Hunter at last agreed, now trusting him implicitly with this still raw truth. “It will not be anywhere near as interesting as making an enchanted weapon, just so you know. It's just a lot of limp pinned fabric and thread. A lot of measuring and even more repetitiveness. I'm not--”
Alucard shut down his string self-depreciating deflections with another little 'I Love You' kiss. Those things were sure coming in handy as both a short-hand and a problem solver of late. “You told me once that talented people excite you, remember? I am not so different from you in that regard. Passionate people who can embrace their passions with both arms excite me. I do not care what you make with your two hands, Trevor Belmont. If you are enjoying the process and the what you are creating, I will enjoy watching you create.”
While it was nice to hear confirmed in the following moment later, the Dhampyre did not need Trevor's admission to know the veracity of what scent was caught in the air. This surprised, thick aroma of relief and delight, of course coloured by amorous notes under all the raw emotions and expression. Trevor Belmont reached out to pull them together, capturing his mouth in a deep, particularly sensual kiss, that left Alucard gasping for air when they parted for Trevor to speak.
“Please say that everything on your person is in working order. You've just seduced me, Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș.”
Sparing a moment for a mournful laugh, he could only shake his head sadly. “The little guy is still sadly out of commission.”
“But you have seduced me, Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș.” Trevor accused, pulling one of Alucard's hands down to where he could safely feel and confirm was the new record for how hot, horny and hard the Hunter had ever been.
The aroma of Trevor's abject arousal and desire mixed with the herbs and spices in oils emulsifying in a pan, creating yet another perfect perfumery blend of this new domestic bliss that Alucard was absolutely livid he could not indulge in. But after all his talk and prompts about honesty, was that really his own honest answer? Be a good boyfriend for once. That little voice inside his head reminded him. Not everything is about getting your dick wet, and the poor horny man passed out before he could get off last time all thanks to your appetite.
Determined now to righting the grievous wrong he'd committed just the day prior, Alucard rolled Trevor over flat onto his back against the mattress and climbed between his splayed legs. “Joachim, my friend.” He called out in a sing-song way. “What are you cooking?”
“Several things, but the last one to make is a stir-fry, my Kitten.” Answered a liquid silver voice in just as pleasant and musical a fashion from beyond the bedroom wall. “It's almost all ready. I would say you have about a solid seven minutes if you would like to try and beat your previous record. I'll even put on some inspirational music, if you like.”
“Thank you, bestest buddy.” He grinned wolfishly down at the bewildered brunette as a playlist of R&B and Trapsoul queued up from the kitchen. Loud enough to pretend there wasn't a feast being prepared next door, but not too loud that the music would drown out the noises he was about to pull out of that wide-eyed beautiful flower. “Seven minutes and counting then.”
“Seven minutes to do what..?” Trevor questioned hesitantly. He repeated himself when Alucard leaned over to dig the lube out of his bedside drawer, finally asking. “What is the fruity aspic for?" And when Alucard decided that showing Trevor would just be faster by spreading the hand-warmed substance down his aching member, Trevor couldn't help but exclaim. “That's what it is for!?” In complete disbelief that Alucard would just have a sex thing practically out in the open. “Then why the hell does it smell like fruit?”
That made Alucard chuckle and he leered at the little snack laid out before him. “It tastes good like fruit too.” He divulged, teasingly. “It's made that way so that when I suck your cock in about thirty seconds from now, it will be that much more of a treat for me then it already is to be in service of you.”
It was so rare to see Trevor Belmont completely speechless.
Alucard took full advantage of it, hooking a knee and bending between bare legs. The oversized teeshirt was barely an inconvenience. “We've got a little over five minutes left and I have a shot at beating my best time, so buckle up.”
The Hunter's bewildered look and shocked gasp were still in place when he closed his lips over that blushing head, stroking his lubed hand along where his mouth had yet to reach until he got into a good rhythm, and once it was free... Well. Slick fingers trailed down testicles, pressed the flat of a thumb into the perineum teasingly, before finally circling down to the ring of muscle that twitched at his touch. He didn't have time to draw things out, so with only a few lubricating swipes later, he had his fingers sliding inside, reaching for a bundle of nerves.
Both hands covering his mouth now out of necessity, Trevor gasped out breathlessly. “Joachim is literally right behind that wall, what are you doing!? There are no goddamn doors in this house to even feign privacy!”
Popping of that delicious cock with an audible noise Trevor blushed at, he made sure to give the Hunter a roll of his eyes as he stroked with his free hand and wasted precious seconds to explain. “You are going to be living in the same house as one and three quarter Desire demons combined. I have woken up with that other demon's round ass in my face because he was too busy fucking a Dryad to move away from my passed out drunk self. How he doesn't have splinters in his cock, I'll never know. Not the point. My point is that this is really not a big deal for demons. Especially Desire demons. So consider this a little taste of your new life, Trevor Belmont.” He surged forward to kiss the dropped jaw briefly, before clarifying. “I am still following our other Rule. We're just going to go with the flow, and be. Part of that rule was that if I am not touching you and you want me to be touching you, you'll ask me to. And if I am currently touching you and you do not want me to... You are allowed to tell me to stop at any time. That was the first Rule, right?”
“Y-Yes...” Trevor squeaked.
“You have not told me to stop, Trevor. You got excited when I said I wanted to see your handiwork, and I think you're a little bit more than excited at the idea that Joachim can probably hear you right now. That's called exhibitionism, and when I am not under the gun, I'll explain that to you. I think it's a kink you have.”
“B-but...” The Hunter clamped his two hands back in place as Alucard resumed his task like a consummate professional. Blue-grey eyes rolling back in their sockets as he stifled his own ragged moan and painted the front of Alucard's old teeshirt with an impressive amount of cum. That was one hell of a pent-up man.
The Dhampyre continued to work his fingers inside while he lightly stroked the wilting flesh, admiring his own handiwork all over the shirt, some of the bedding, and even a sexy – in that dirty-soiled way – streak across one sharp cheekbone. There was just something perversely satisfying in making a man blast himself in the face with his own pleasure. Poor Trevor looked so torn between satiety and mortification. Well, he did until the teasing fingers against his prostate paid off and he was forced to stifle yet another soft, desperate moan. One of his fondest memories were of the time he'd brought the Hunter to ecstasy in a similar fashion after Aljiba. Even through a film, it was a exquisite sight to behold once more, Trevor Belmont pushing back against his probing digits, actively fucking himself. “That is a very good look on you, Trevor Belmont.”
“I can't believe you did that.” Trevor murmured, struggling for his bearings whilst hips still canted sporadically. “No, I can't believe I let you do that. With an audience. You basically asked for his permission to do this. And he gave it to you.” Trevor shook his head still in disbelief. “I will never be able to look him in the eye again.”
Good. He mused internally. Anything to help stop them from exchanging those loving looks and smiles towards one another. Speaking louder to be heard over the music he asked the important question while withdrawing his fingers. “Time?”
“Forty-five seconds to go. Not your best, but not too shabby for a demon fresh out of his grave.”
Tilting his head he smiled down at Trevor, and purred. “I did it to you twice, Trevor. Or more accurately, you let me do it to you twice. You never said stop. And you were very reactive while someone was knowingly within earshot of your moans. We've got a pretty strong case for you being an exhibitionist. I have some other ancillary data to back this claim up which I promise to present when I tell you all about your adorable first identified kink another day. Are you so sure you don't like to put on live shows?”
“Not to keep butting in, but I did tell the Little One much the same. He is a natural. Also dinner is ready.” Came the amused voice from the kitchen.
“What have I gotten myself into... This is madness.” Trevor muttered. “At least tell me there are doors in your other house?”
Alucard flopped back down beside the man to both hug him and tickle his sides until the Hunter couldn't help but grin back, fighting to keep his hands away. “There are doors, but they do not stop Joachim. Or his friends. Or most other Desire demons. It would probably be faster for you to just get used to it. Everyone in the human world poops, sure, but everyone in mine fucks. It's not a big deal. Now come on.” He urged, pulling the spoiled shirt over the Hunter's head. He used the relatively clean other side to wipe the streak of semen still splattered across that angular cheekbone, and next his own slick hands, before fetching Trevor another shirt to wear and even helping him into it.
He also debated and decided against fetching the man a pair of pants, as he was a Desire demon of the highest calibre, and very much was enjoying the sight of those long shapely legs and the perfect neat little crescent shaped talons that capped those toes. So sleek and elegant. “Oh, are you still too weak to walk on your own?”
“No thanks to you.” Trevor muttered, flushing crimson again.
“Then allow me to start making amends.”
“Yay.” The Hunter sighed as he was hoisted up to be carried to the kitchen table. “I can't look at either of you.” He announced glumly once Alucard settled him, staring down at the plate of food, and only the plate of food before him.
Never one to be dissuaded, Joachim used the same hand that had just slid dinner under the Hunter's nose to catch the angular jaw and twist Trevor's face up to meet his own. “Well, I for one could look at you all day, Belle Lapin. Orgasms do suit you. You are absolutely glowing, Little One. ”
Trevor went several shades of red before he was able to respond. “You two even sound alike when it comes to this.” He spoke in a whine. “Am I going to be getting this treatment from both sides all the time now?”
The Vampyre traded a raised brow look at the Dhampyre, as if to gauge his reaction. Alucard was pretty happy about scoring a double-orgasm in under six minutes so he didn't mind so much Joachim seeking and accepting his permission to jump on that accidental innuendo in order to tease. Turning his own wolfish grin back on the Hunter, the Vampyre just about growled hungrily. “Well now, I don't know, pretty Rabbit. I would be more than happy to give you a follow up round if you have not had your full satisfaction, but if you want to try both of us at the same time, I think you'll have to do some pretty big favours for our kitty-cat first. I'm not so certain he's on board with your proposal. You do seem rather talented at convincing, though.”
“That's not what I...” Trevor dropped his gaze again, horrified by his own possibly Freudian slip, and only opened his mouth next to take bites and chew.
While the demons shared an amicable enough conversation the remainder of the meal, for the Hunter the vow of silence had made a brief return. He even refused to say goodnight when fatigue had the Dhampyre insisting he be tucked back into bed, but the little chaste kiss pressed to his lips promised Alucard that in the grand scheme of things, all was well. In no time at all Alucard found himself back in the kitchen with Joachim, if only because there was nothing else to do in the barren garden home.
At least the coffee Joachim passed his way tasted heavenly.
“I am impressed, Kitten.” The Vampyre stated simply, catching his attention. “I have never seen a person come as close to being dumped by their boyfriend and then vault back high enough to convince that very same boyfriend to spread his legs for them as you just did tonight.”
“It's an art form.” He joked, but the laugh cut short when he realized Joachim's quip was not made in jest.
“You do know that if you hadn't salvaged this very last chance, he'd be burning all your possessions in the street and keying up your car, right? He is very fragile still, but the new teacup he's fashioning is going to be stronger than the old one. This new one seems to only accept specific temperatures and very refined brews.”
“Is this the sex talk? Cause if you're going to give me the puberty run-down, you're about eight hundred years too late.” Alucard scoffed, standing to leave with his coffee. Surely he could kill time in his office until morning. Even if it was just staring at the walls, it had to be better than where this conversation was going.
“Sit down, Adrian.”
Alucard checked for a Force of Will but found none. So why had he sat back down so obediently? Not just because Joachim had asked him to? For that matter, why was he suddenly very nervous?
“What is it, Joachim?” He murmured, spinning his mug of coffee in apprehension. “What is wrong?”
“I have been much too lenient with you for far too many years. It's a little late to start course correcting for my own benefit, but for the Little One I will focus on the most important parts you need to understand.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Precisely that. You don't know how to talk.”
“I never shut up. I think I know how to talk too well, wouldn't you say?”
“As a human only.”
“Oh for the love of... Come one, Joachim, not this again. I have enough going on without you badgering me to --”
“Shut your human mouth, Adrian.” Joachim commanded, and he did. “That mouth has gotten you into more trouble than any other fault of yours, wouldn't you say?” When the Dhampyre said nothing the Vampyre smiled coldly clinical. “Your over reliance on that human tongue of yours nearly cost you your beloved tonight. It's obvious you have no idea he nearly threw you away for good. After what I have heard, I would not blame him. Nobody would. Thankfully for your sake, your greatest liability is sometimes paradoxically your greatest asset.”
“I... Know. Okay. I know where Trevor and I stand. I don't need you to spell it out.”
“I do not believe in giving the student the answer, Adrian, but you never listen and you never learn. You have no idea what I am speaking about and yet you still run your mouth.”
“Then what do you want, Joachim? Spell that one out for me.”
“I want to talk.” The Vampyre intoned. “And I want you to listen for once.”
Notes:
I've noticed the Chapter notes becoming increasingly deranged. This chapter is 17K+ words, and I didn't even get to the second plot point I wanted to move along. I had to chop this in half... at 17K.
For pacing I never wanted to write any chapter that didn't move certain things along and I really wanted that other chunk... But we're 17K words long. Of mostly fluff. I'm drowning in toilet humour, sex jokes, and Playboy Playmate trivia.
I am sorry for anyone who gets frustrated with a huge honking chapter that moves practically no plot along. At least there is relationship building???
Chapter 45: Connection
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Hotel Conference Room, Shinjuku Ward, Tokyo
Yoko Belnades, youngest of the Belnades clan currently on the Church payroll as well as the youngest newly minted and certified direct-line Leon Belmont decedent, could not possibly have felt any smaller and insignificant than she did currently under the wall-size screened gaze of twenty council members and the stern, unforgiving, frigid Iron Maiden herself. She'd been sat beside some lab techs and a handful of members of the mobile Arcane Investigative Unit, far enough away from Julius in his handful of Mobile Hunters – her comforting newly minted cousin – that they could not even get away with trading looks with one another without twenty angry faces and one severe fixed mask noting they had.
She wanted to curl up and die in the stuffy houndstooth print skirt suit and pressed high-neck blouse and tie that had been mandated for this meeting. The sweat was no doubt staining the pits of her crisp white blouse, as two of the last 6 hours had passed gruellingly while Julius made a strong case to refute that the two of them had been misappropriating Church funds to help Ambassador Țepeș with a pet project that had gone so far sideways, an international incident was likely inevitable. Yoko frankly was amazed Jules had talked their way out of suspension and perhaps even criminal charges for a white-collar crime, and moreso that he'd even convinced her they were just doing their jobs by following up on a cultish coven in the wake of the Castle's banishment. The coven clearly had wanted to seize the Castle before it sunk too far behind the veil.
Another three hours was spent going over every single thing in their collective reports with a fine tooth comb. Dates were verified numerous times. Every detail dissected and Yoko had to write out and sign an updated addendum after each 'deep dive' with her still bandaged mangled hands. There was no mercy for that! Their phones, sim cards, photos, everything had all been handed over to be scraped. The Church now had copies of her sexting Hammer and teasing Alucard through normal texts. The Church now had a picture of the shared soft smiles between Alucard and Trevor Belmont, as her great grandfather listened intently to the Dhampyre read him facts about the green beetle with the rainbow stripes. The Church had her family selfies with Jules and Trevor. The Church had the sneaky candid photo she'd taken of Joachim, because there wasn't one in the Archives and she had wanted to show her sister the crazy ass Vampyre that had shown her how to use her arcane powers efficiently. Now there was going to be a photograph added to the record of him in the Archives, and she felt a little bit guilty at being the reason why.
This last hour had been just fucking weird. The pair of them were being pressed and pressed again with different variations of the same questions, all about their great-grandfather. The council and debrief lead would not come right out and say what the results of the lab tests had been. It was very obvious they were trying to suss out is Jules or Yoko already knew what they had found out or verified, which they did not. They had taken Trevor at his and Ambassador Țepeș' word, and collected the evidence the last time they saw him. Their report outlined the same, including the note that the Vampyre Joachim Armster also believed Trevor Belmont to be who he said he was.
They had narrowly gotten away with keeping the address of where the family pictures had been taken a secret. Ambassador Țepeș' private residences were not theirs to give unless they wanted to create a Diplomatic problem of their own. The Church could contact his office in Wallachia to respond to their inquiries into the mysterious man claiming to be a Belmont. That was when the Iron Maiden's stern unmoving mask twitched into the briefest smile. Barely a quirk of her lip. How Jules found this icy queen with her white hair pinned back tightly dripping with her diamonds and snow-fox fur both beautiful and enjoyed her company, Yoko would never understand.
“Ambassador Țepeș' office has already been in contact with us.” The Iron Maiden revealed, her weathered but direct tone of voice silencing the room. “The Ambassador will be escorting an as of yet unclassified demon to our main headquarters in Wallachia for review, as well to discuss what is in your reports personally. We have already issued this unclassified demon a temporary passport and expect this demon to present themselves within an outlined fourteen day period.”
An as of yet unclassified demon? Yoko frowned slightly but wiped her face clean when eight out of twenty angry faces leaned in to gauge her reaction and the Iron Maiden's eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.
“Something to add, AIA Belnades?”
Oh no, she threw out the Arcane Investigative Agent Belnades at me. Now I have to answer. “About another topic, Madame Director.” Yoko pivoted on the fly, and swallowed hard when that eyebrow lifted just a touch higher. Well now she had to scramble for one... “The child witch Sabrina, Madame Director. I was just curious if she is to be taken back to Wallachia or returned to our branch in England.” In the written reports Yoko had made sure to specify that Sabrina had helped them in the end. That Sabrina has cooperated, and was only involved briefly before Yoko and Jules had crashed the cult party.
“Your compassion is noted, AIA Belnades. The child will be detained and further questioned back in Wallachia. We have cleared extradition for her, and we will be paying to bring her mother to stay with her while she in on site. Does that satisfy your concern?”
“It does, Director. Thank you for indulging me while there remains other business to address.” Yoko dipped her head respectfully, all the while running circles in her mind. I can't believe I pulled that out of my ass. Maybe hanging out with Alucard and listening to his boring phone calls paid off?
“I have a question, since there are roughly twenty-six people in this room who know more than I do at current.” Julius cut in from his place at the table. Yoko wished she could shake him. It seemed like they had given everything they were asked to give and then some. They may have been dismissed finally if he had just kept quiet so the council and Eliza could pour over their added details.
“I expected you to.” The Iron Maiden replied with what almost, if you squinted really hard, might have been a single exhaled laugh. For someone like her, that minor break in decorum was akin to the Queen of Spain tearing off her brassier to throw at her Capitán General.
Fucking Jules man, he actually grinned back at her warmly after that little exchange. And you know what? Not a single goddamn stuffed shirt made a comment or even harrumphed. Maybe Julius actually ran the show and Yoko just wasn't in the know?
“I'd like to know what the results were on the creature we were advised was called Lilû. Has there been any updates on that demon?”
The Iron Maiden lifted her chin and stared down at her off-hours lovers for a long moment while she considered answering him. Eventually, she decided there was no harm. “We can confirm it is very ancient and that there is nothing matching it's taxonomy exactly on file.”
Exactly? I caught that, Liza, you snake. That means there's something on record that's similar! Now Yoko had to chance a peek over at Julius and she was glad she'd done so when he wore a suspicious little smirk of his own. Jules had caught that too.
“The Class is mammalian. We've are lacking the data to determine herbivore or omnivore. Your description of it's human-like teeth could speak to either diet, if there is a diet to be had. The Family it belongs to has been confirmed to be Desire demons. The Genus and Species are are still to be determined, but we are finding markers in it's genetic coding that are also found in modern day Desire demons we do have complete profiles for. So it is not outside of the realm of possibility that this Vampyre confident of the Ambassador was correct in regards to this newly discovered demon being the progenitor of many common species.” When it seemed like the Iron Maiden was finished sharing information, she took a measured breath and added a little extra, just to keep things spicy. “We even ran Ambassador Țepeș DNA profile against this Lilû for a control. As you aware, the Ambassador was sired from a non-standard Vampyre. His genetic coding is lacking many of the commonalities of other Moroi. Outside of the very basic structures that allows us to classify a demon under the Desire umbrella, there are markers in this Lilû that are not present in the Ambassador.”
But some of the markers are much more present and similar in something we do have on file. Not just vague modern Desire demons as a whole, but something specific. You were too precise about it in your answer, lady. Yoko didn't dare frown again, but boy did she want to. The Iron Maiden had probably over indulged about running a test on Alucard in hopes it distracted them from the fact she'd slipped up.
“It's been a long time since we've discovered not one but two entirely new demons in need of classification. A good thirty years, at least.” Julius remarked, amused. “Unless these two new demons are perhaps connected, and the lot of your are sitting on that information because you like to watch me work for it?”
Holy shit, Jules. You just went for it! The big fucking balls on that man.
“Julius Belmont, your legacy aside, you will respect–” One angry talking head began to sputter, but Eliza cut him off, and essentially cut the whole show off.
“I can see our field agents are exhausted. We have the information required to move forward at this junction. We will hold another debrief to discuss further finding upon your return, AIA Belnades and IA Belmont. You are dismissed for now. Tickets for your flight back will arrive at the front desk of your hotel shortly. Please be on the lookout for them.”
“Yes, Madame Director.” Yoko squeaked out, jumping to her feet. She was already at the door when she noticed Jules had not moved.
Julius actually went so far as to put his hands on his hips and openly scoff at the bum rush they'd just been handed. “Director and members of the Committee, I would once again like to make this explicitly clear. If you want a Belmont bloodhound to find your demon, you best be giving your hound the scent you want it to track. Withholding information from me is not going to get you the desired results.” Julius spat. “I look forward to productive cooperation in our next debrief. Good night.”
As Yoko scurried to get out of the path of his decisive march, she caught up to his side just as the bang of the door he'd totally slammed on all twenty of their faces finished echoing off the hotel halls. She kept looking at him with what must have been a stupid looking grin, for after a few minutes he finally cracked one of his own. Then they laughed.
“You are just the fucking coolest guy I know, Jules.”
“You're a badass too, Yoko.” He returned.
Of all the people to be stuck in hot water with, Yoko was sure as hell glad she was in the same pot as Julius Belmont.
*****
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
“I want to talk.” Intoned the Vampyre. “And I want you to listen for once.” Such words, even when spoken by rich liquid silver gliding through pointed ears, brought to mind a sentence pronounced down from on high. A sentence that hung heavily around the silent kitchen, save a peculator's soft gurgling hiss. With either obliviousness or contentment, the elder demon gave nothing be it word or action that relieved any of the mounting tension. Instead, fixing the younger Moroi with unreadable mercury irises, Joachim pushed back from his spot at the opposite end of the table to fetch the pot with which to top off their mugs of coffee.
So that was the fair warning, then. This was going to either be a very long conversation... Or one so intensely unpleasant Alucard would wish it a long boring chore. After all, he was being allowed a full cup to utilize as a coping mechanism and self-soother. A limited time use excuse to press pause on the answers he would be asked to provide, or a shield to hide from abject scrutiny just long enough to gather his courage. It was rather considerate an allowance. One might say even quintessentially Joachim. Harsh and strict a taskmaster, but even Alucard could never claim he was not fair. Mistakes were welcome, so long as you continued to try and gain mastery over them. You were never given – in the Vampyre's esteemed opinion – more than you could handle, and he was always on the sideline ready to coax you toward what – in the Vampyre's esteemed opinion – was the correct solution.
Followed through to the letter, of course.
That a chair was being pulled out directly aside the end of the table the Dhampyre sat at instead of reclaiming the Vampyre's former spot only served to amplify the intensity of the growing anxiety working it's way through Alucard's guts. It was uncomfortable being quietly studied like this, silver trailing his body slowly in each direction, always returning back the apprehensive expression he knew was worn nakedly on his face, in order to poleaxe amber in place.
In nearly six hundred years of kinship, the balance between the two demons was never once even-keeled, and Alucard had known that would be the case from day one, when he had somehow managed to survive the encounter that should have ended him. The scales were pulled as weights and measures traded hands. Some years Joachim was melancholy and ethereal. As ghostly as his spectral swords and tendrils, gliding alongside Alucard's every whim with barely a word. Some years he was bristling, a pot boiling over at every opportunity and always the frustration seemed to be a cause of his 'Kitten.' Many in between were good. The fun they had shared, pranks played, adventures seen through end to end... They were all treasured memories, if he was being honest. Most of his memories were of or involved the demon sat across the table studying him. The man had been lonely when Alucard stepped into that old Austrian shack. The greater demon had shown him how to know another as Desire demons should, and when Alucard gazed into another with that demonic intention, he nearly drowned in the vast fathomless chasm of loneliness in Joachim. He'd been frightened of losing himself to it. But he'd had a purpose then... To find his beloved. So he'd faced the void back then on the chance Trevor may be found on the other side.
In the earlier years the void seemed to shrink each time Alucard was coaxed into facing it, but it was always too much. Too chaotic, being flooded with the emotions and perceptions of another, all their wants and needs, and all while his own were amplified a hundredfold. It was too much, too fast, and too soon. It didn't feel right to have all these occasionally painful emotions thrust unto him, nor to have tendrils coil beneath his skin imprinting that he part of a greater thing. That he was not just himself any longer. A coil in his guts that peeled back his own pain and shame to examine after years of work burying what he no longer wished to hurt him. He could not afford another demon seeing his weaknesses and dragging them into light. At the time then, he needed to be strong for Sypha and her children. For the frightened villagers as their little commune was just getting off the ground. He couldn't have this connection that kept breaking down his defences at every vulnerable chance it saw. He felt understood about that... In the early years.
But over the next few decades, stretching out into the centuries, each time that metaphysical hand reached for his, it just became harder and harder to close his own around it. Ever growing periods of separation expanded that void until it was once more a fathomless black chasm, and Alucard was terrified of what would happen to him if he were to collapse inside. He tolerated shallow touches only because the demon before him seemed to need the connection, and Joachim was his friend. For long stretches of time, his only real friend. Most of the time... His only family too. It was not easy to be burdened with another's needs. Needs that were oft too complex, confusing, and difficult for one to provide for. How was he supposed to keep his own head above the water when a whole other individual clung so desperately to him?
That same desperation was in the quicksilver pools his amber gaze now drowned in. Softly, without ceremony or attention called towards it, a forearm was lain on the table, palm facing upwards, but the Dhampyre could not help but recoil from the open plea as if it were a venomous viper. Mug of coffee twisting nervously, Alucard broke free of the silver waves, trading the view for the still waters in his cup instead.
“I understand that what I am asking is a tall order, given your elective handicap.” There was no anger, frustration or even disdain in the statement, for Joachim had long ago come to realize that the one thing he asked of Alucard in their ages-long friendship was the one thing Alucard consistently could not provide. These things could neither be found in his scent, although that could simply be chalked up to Joachim's impressive control over the biochemical scents he did exude. “If you could... Please try?”
There had to be some residual effect from the pheromone earlier still in his system. It did not matter that Joachim possessed the smoothest voice Alucard admittedly had ever heard in his long life, or that pragmatically he could admit the Vampyre's was in possession of numerous physical traits that ticked many of Alucard's boxes. He'd heard that voice for centuries now, and there were a lot more boxes left unchecked. The world was lousy with passably handsome faces too, and this one was no more special in the grand scheme, even if it was kind of exciting and novel to have someone that good looking and built like a male high fashion model manhandle his person. It had excited him not knowing which one would dominate if he'd just tested Joachim's hold a little more earlier, while under that influence. There was simply no other reason but the amorous pheromone's lingering effects on his body to explain why he reached across that table to lay his hand atop the Vampyre's right then.
The mug of coffee was all he could stand to behold as he waited for that familiar aura to glide along his body, bringing about the mixed emotions and sensations that always followed this prelude. His own gently manipulated, but manipulated all the same as he would not engage outright of his own volition, he waited with held breath for the slide beneath his skin. Joachim was quite used to the ginger pace and shallow depth required by now. The only approach the Vampyre could make without spooking him from the table now secured, the Vampyre graciously let him sit with the discomfort, to determine if even this was too much or he could tolerate it for a bit more.
Can I..? He wondered sincerely, as faint impressions begun to flow through the tentative connection. There was a sense that Joachim was... Perhaps proud?
Yes. The connection buzzed. It may have been pleasant if he were less unsettled.
Because I don't like it and yet I am doing this anyway. Because he talked me into this? He's proud of that he got his way?
No... No, Kitten. The buzzing grew still, and while there were no words, he all but heard the pet name fall from Joachim's lips.
Then what is there to be proud of here? I have no idea at all. And I am actually trying!
Yes! The warm ripple beneath his skin tried to contain itself, so as not to overwhelm him when he was already so sensitive to the fluctuations and the emotional overload.
...Because I am actually trying? Alucard tilted his head while burning a hole through his coffee cup and pondered seriously. He is proud of me for trying? Warm buzzing seemed to indicate Joachim was. So what was he then, a dog performing tricks? If he was, the Vampyre had forgotten to bring treats, and he felt his amplified annoyance skitter across those few connecting threads between them. Is it so hard to get some snausages up here?
Never one to be easily dissuaded, Joachim responded to the negative rebuff with only what seemed like amusement. Spectral tendrils wormed their way into and out of the cupboard and laid down upon the table between them was a box of assorted flavoured mochi cookies. Same gooey taste but in cookie form, so the packaging led the buyer to believe. Of course he dipped in for a green tea flavoured one, and of course, it was delicious. Fine then. Point one to Joachim. The Vampyre was certainly pleased with his own bribery forethought.
The glide beneath his skin pushed a little deeper, but stopped abruptly just as Alucard found his hands on the side of the table, ready to push away and run out into the winter night air if need be to get far from where he currently was sat. He was allowed to sit with the new level of discomfort without any input or sensation shared along the connection. Only the uncomfortable awareness that he was no longer a silo settling over him until he was at last able to bring his blazing golden gaze back up to meet softened liquid silver. The pride came back slowly. Joachim's pride in his valiant struggle, blanketed in an energy that attempted to sooth.
You're doing well, Kitten. Just take slow, deep breaths.
That was a lie meant to encourage. He wasn't doing well at all. The panic was settling in as more of what lay beneath Joachim's stoicism was allowed to be sent through their tenuous bond, but he appreciated the sentiment. Deep concern for Alucard and heavily chained anger at the ones who'd hurt him were at the forefront of what he was being fed, but everything was dragged so low by a terrible fatigue. An exhaustion both physical and mental. It made sense, that fatigue. Joachim had the entire neighbourhood on lock down, and likely had for who knows how long. Every person, animal and item in the handful of blocks surrounding their garden home were tagged and actively monitored. Who came into the sphere of influence, who left, what were they carrying, and so on. Did they belong there? Were they a threat? Keeping track of all those things while caring after Trevor and himself, holding conversations with them and keeping up in spite of the huge mental toll...
Shush. It is not your concern, but mine. Don't be troubled by trivialities, when I am capable of this and more. A scolding sensation needled him, and Alucard got the feeling Joachim did not care for his 'pity'. Of course he would keep them safe, it was his role in their hierarchy; the Master's duty to care for the ones under him. As far as the Vampyre was concerned, it was his job, and he would not accept any guilt or sympathy from his charges – his little ones – for providing what was expected of him.
“This is far as I will push you for now, sweet Kitten. Please know that I truly appreciate your effort tonight.” The hand beneath his own on the table gave a little squeeze. A human reassurance. Joachim's olive branch for pushing him to embrace the demon side for this 'talk'. “May I also request that you bear with me? If I could, I would just show you what I want to say, but with your... condition... That is not possible at this time. So I will attempt to explain myself to you in basic human words, lacking the context I wish to provide them.”
There was the expected disappointment now, trickling in along their binding threads. But it was yanked back and buried behind whatever wall was also protecting Alucard from the yawning chasm of loneliness he knew and feared was hiding just beyond. Joachim didn't want him to know that the pitiful amount of this connection Alucard could stand to put up with was falling way short of the Vampyre's needs. Joachim didn't want to discourage him, even at the expense of himself. The pheromone had to be the cause. It was still affecting his agency. Why else did Alucard, uncomfortable and uneasy with a metaphysical hand on his pulse, feel so inclined to throw the Vampyre a bone? “I am very adept with basic human words. I will help you find the correct ones if you cannot on your own. We will get through whatever this is in some manner or other, as we always end up doing, Joachim. So talk.”
There was perhaps a visible relief in those silver eyes watching him. “That was one of the things I was struggling to convey, actually. That our union's core remains. Even waning as it has been, and as I have been watching for years as it diminished, at a loss of how to reconnect and reinforce our bond... It is still something that stands. This latest hurdle will not break us.” The Vampyre inhaled deeply, choosing his words carefully as flippancy had no context to rely on here. “You know that I am with you, Adrian? I will still be here with you at the end of this conversation, no matter the outcome?”
“I'm sorry you think I am ungrateful--”
“Kitten, please... That is not what this is about.”
Alucard bit his lower lip and broke eye contact once more. This was what the coffee cup was for. He took a measured, slow sip. Hitting pause on the difficult question, because he had to work for the answer. With purpose, he let a thin cord of his own essence free to slide just under Joachim's shell. The tiniest thread latching still overwhelming him with the elder demon's passionate emotions. He wanted to get up and run, and could feel how hurt Joachim was that that was his first instinctual reaction. That hurt... was unintentional.
All at once he was back in the Austrian shack six hundred years ago being overwhelmed by a Force of Will and holding on to his desire to find Trevor Belmont as the lifeline it had been, in order to survive the torrid of Joachim's misery. Next, shoulder to shoulder hiding in a overcrowded storehouse in Poland, his own carelessness the only blame for the wounds on his body. The connection forced on him tried to sooth and absolve him of guilt. Mistakes happen, after all. But the more the energy between them tried to ease, the tighter he found himself winding. Lastly, he was back in a trashed suite of a hotel in London with various pretty strangers in all states of undress and levels of consciousness, when an equally drunk and sated Vampyre collapsed next to him, pushing a lover whose face and name Alucard would never remember far away. A drunk Vampyre who lay a head swimming with wine and laudanum on his shoulder, and a hand that came to rest on his heart. Alucard had been into the laudanum as well, so when the uncontrolled connection formed unbidden by either demon, he simply let the torrent wash over him with a passive curiosity, untouched by the intensity. Joachim had been very happy that night, and the chasm of loneliness that had truthfully not been so great at that time already, shrunk further. They'd been playing the parts of travelling musicians and noblemen, and at each other's side day and night. Maybe that had been why... Joachim did value their time together more than anything else it seemed. The Dhampyre had fallen deeply into a meditative rest like that, only withdrawing in a panic during the late afternoon when a blinding migraine had awoken him. Without the laudanum, Joachim's overwhelming affection and need for Alucard to absolve his loneliness was too much, too fast, too soon.
That's it. Alucard arrived at the answer, feeling the same bereft sensation from Joachim right now as he had years ago in London, ripping himself free of the naturally formed connection. The state they had woven themselves into when only instinct and desire was in the driver's seat, was a distant but distinct memory. It had been one of less than a handful of times he had been able to commit fully to providing the only thing ever asked of him. “We are family, Joachim.” He stated simply and honestly. “I want you to be with me for every part of my future as you have been such a large part of my past. I am happy to hear that you feel the same. I am happy that even when I put my foot in my mouth, you want to stay.” Turning the words over, he opened his mouth to add in a awkward self-conscious tone. “Thank you for putting up with me. I know I am not... the easiest to be close to.”
There was so much affection permeating the room, both through the bond and in the Vampyre's scent, it was burning away everything within the kitchen until it was the single identifiable sensation. There was nothing left to Alucard but another's affection drowning out his own sense of being. Too much, too fast, too soon. I don't want to be lost in this. I don't want to lose who I am. Panicking completely now, he was powerless when hands were taking hold of his shoulders, soothing him. A voice was trying to reach him, but it was so far away. Nothing could reach him in this torrent, and he was lost and afraid. Then sweetness on his tongue. A squishy sweetness. A cookie. A mochi cookie.
The physical overrode the metaphysical succinctly and he was back in the kitchen with a mug of coffee gripped deathly tight in one hand, and a mouth full of a lychee flavoured mochi. Joachim had managed to wrangle his overwhelming abundance of happiness and adoration back to a dull trickle, sufficing with the slow rub of his shoulders to convey just how pleased the greater demon was with his reply. He chewed the lychee treat and tried to calm down. That was the true purpose of the cookies then. Not solely a bribe and reward, but a means to ground him. The Vampyre had truly thought this through. The threads beneath his skin were a little deeper. He may not have felt them slide in further, but he was all too aware of them now.
“I apologize for my lack of control, Kitten.” Joachim whispered softly. “As I am certain you could tell... I was a bit elated. Overly so.”
“No kidding.” He managed to get out between the deep calming breaths. Inhale for five seconds, hold, exhale for five. That kind of distracting exercise was designed precisely for these kinds of situations, was it not?
“Right... Well.” The Vampyre retook his seat, Alucard's hand back in his as well. He lay their clasped hands on the table and just like that, it would look like nothing had transpired at all. If only. “My insistence upon this thing you find so upsetting has two end goals in mind, and I believe them intertwined. They are not secrets, so I will share. Firstly, I wish to let you know that I have been teaching the Little One this method of connection and communication not out of my selfish desire, but because he has both a talent for it, and I would like him equipped to be able to fit into his soon to be new life back in the Commune. We have our fair share of Desire demons in the underground city and he could use some friends that are not immediately related to him.”
“That's fair.” It was all he could muster, still worn out from the torrential feel-good rainstorm.
“While you were recovering, he was eager to learn how so that he could sense you were gaining strength. Now that you are free of your earthy box, through my connection with him I can see how much he longs to share this type of exchange with you. I believe he enjoys being able to reveal what he feels without the hassle of having to put them to voice. I have mentioned only that you are not great when it comes to this, when he's asked. I have not yet told him you are currently incapable to the point you may as well be considered handicapped, and without serious effort on your part, what he is desiring may be impossible.”
“I preferred handi-capable back when that wasn't a slur, thank you.” The strength of his voice was returning. “It's 2037, Joachim. I know it's hard to keep changing up your languages being alive for two millennia, but the word you were looking for is disabled. I am incapable to the point I may as well be considered disabled.”
“Semantics.”
“Respect, actually.” He insisted.
“Improper semantics, actually. You suffer from a temporary and surmountable disadvantage while fitting into your Desire demons peer group. This isn't a functional disability you were born with, it's a hurdle you have yet to overcome.” The Vampyre shot back, unamused. “Drawing me into a petty argument will not work. This is not what we are discussing, Kitten. This is a stalling tactic of yours, so cease and focus.”
“All right.” With a sigh, he gave in. “Trevor mentioned that much. He also said I was very hard to read. He did sound disappointed... But I think he thought he couldn't read me because he was the one who is bad at this.”
“Nonsense. He is learning, but he's leagues ahead of you. You should let him know it's you, and not him, that is the issue there.” Joachim visibly clamped his mouth shut and sent the tingly soothing vibe back through those embedded tendrils. The teacher was back to being encouraging. “That was my first reason for this, anyway. To allow you an opportunity to engage and practice with a more experienced demon. Even with my level of control, I found it difficult to contain my enthusiasm and overwhelmed you momentarily... You are all right? You feel drained. Shall I wait to continue another time?”
You would if I told you it was too much for me, wouldn't you. Alucard closed his eyes and mustered the energy to sit up straight on his kitchen stool. Joachim would try again another day, but that would entail everything that it took to get here for it to happen again. The fearful engagement, the discomfort. Perhaps another overly enthusiastic response to his willingness to reattempt a sometimes painful thing because he just learned Trevor really wanted him to. No... I'm here now. Just get it over with. Like the skin peeling. The nostril clearing. The eye scabs... Just get it done. All he had to do was ask. “What is your second reason, Joachim?”
“My hearing is superb, you are aware?”
“I am aware there is nothing I spoke about in the pretend privacy of my bed chambers today that you did not hear. It's fine.”
The Vampyre gave his hand another little squeeze. A human reassurance from a demon trying to make a few concessions his way. It was an admirable attempt. “The Little One... The downward turn in your conversation was in fact when he tried to read you. He picked up on many of the same disturbing and distressing things I am currently, and that was even before I started to entwine our essence. Your response to his love and care was cruel and brutish.”
“I am aware my words were quite uncalled for. It's why we had a... Tiff.”
“Your pain is not, Adrian. Uncalled for, I mean.” Joachim's words fell all around, blocking him in. Between them, the bonds tightened, soothing swishes of energy bathing him in the wake of fierce waves of concern. “You suffered, and the manor of which is intrinsically linked to why you are so hellbent on running with your tail between your legs to the Iron Maiden.” Free pale hand raised to bid him silent when he parted his lips to rebuke that he was 'running with a tail tucked' anywhere, the Vampyre continued in a measured, but not unkind tone. “You are suffering as you sit here in front of me. Such wounds that made you lash out at the one thing your cherish most of all, are the kinds of wounds that cannot be allowed to fester. In a diseased state, what else will you drop on the teacup in an attempt to insulate yourself from the truth? If your carelessness shatters the porcelain once more, it is you, Kitten, who will suffer the most because of that.”
Would I shatter Trevor just to keep my pride? No... Of course not. He shook his head violently. “I have never had difficulty speaking my mind or sharing my thoughts with Trevor Belmont. It's why I fell in love with him in the first place, and he with I. What happened today was a slip up. It won't happen again.”
“Please understand that I am not trying to discount your feelings when I remind you that you fell in love five hundred and sixty-one years ago. I met the man you were five hundred and fifty-six years ago. You are not that same man by any stretch, Adrian. When you interrupted my games that night you were warm and open and yearning. The man you've become since that night is frankly put... Cold. An aloof overseer of your own kingdom from up in your walled tower. You have become a man angered easily by unpleasant emotions, so much so that you simply stay in your tower to avoid everything instead of dealing with them. Except in service of him...” Joachim paused briefly to gather himself. “Since he has been returned to you, you have reminded me how you used to be. It's like you've finally deigned to descend down your barricades, because Trevor Belmont is among us knocking on the gates. I see you trying, Kitten. Smiling, making jokes, and making yourself available and vulnerable for his sake. You seem like your old self. It is heartening. But your coping habits are hard to break, and I also see the high risk of you slipping now.”
Humming between them through that tense connection was an earnestness unlike anything Alucard had ever felt before. He felt he was being begged and pleaded to listen. To try and understand why he should sit here under such loathsome conditions and hear another man insult him by saying he'd been an Ice Queen for the last century or two, when everything he had done since the 19th century was in service of others. You damn well couldn't do the things he was trying to do as a melted puddle on the ground!
The Vampyre was also trying, he could see. To sooth through their touch, but to explain in basic human words he would receive. “The Little One loves you so dearly, Kitten. He will not be able to help himself but keep asking you to share yourself. He will pester you out of love and as you are right now, you will use that human tongue of yours in place of a proper and pure form of communication, and all that will be inferred from your wounded suffering words will be the barbs you no doubt will cover them in. You will hurt him out of habit to protect yourself, and he has already given you the ultimatum. If you hurt him again without warrant, trying to climb back up your tower of refuge, he will leave you for good.” Joachim intoned. There was no mocking or heat or anything in his delivery. Just cold hard facts that the connection between them screamed that he listen to, or else... There would be no helping him. “If you need any further motivation to address this here and now, I will admit that I do not intend to give that one up if your impulsive reactions push him away. If such a treasure leaves you, I will see that I keep the teacup for myself, Kitten. You'll have to live with that.”
Keep him? Such bold intent inferred so seriously in both word and flowing aura could only have sought to enrage him. Why else would Joachim stake such claim on his beloved knowing the devotion his heart carried if not to achieve this petty goal? Was this whole ordeal simply a pissing contest and Joachim just wanted to let him know the Vampyre thought he could just take whatever he wanted?
Alucard saw red. Bloodlust pulsed through his veins. While a Force of Will made a passing attempt to hold him in place, the surge of rage gave him enough advantage to launch from the kitchen stool with a snarl and knock the smug, overbearing Vampyre off his own and onto the floor. Small oval claws passed the arms held up in a weak defence, and into the flesh of the shoulders beneath was his own borrowed shirt he was now shredding. This fucking demon, always prattling on and chastising him. No matter how old he got, this elder nightmare was always pushing him into his place, telling him how to act and carry himself. Belittling his 'human' tendencies. Did Joachim think he could just casually admit he wanted to take away the only fucking reason Alucard had done any of the shit he'd fought tooth and nail to do and just be allowed to get away with it!? The Vampyre must be so fucking pleased with Alucard's response if that was his goal.
Blazing gold lifted to see just how smug and proud Joachim must be, but the elder Moroi did not look pleased with himself at all. Rather, he wore an expression of passive acceptance, as if he had expected and had been prepared for this exact response, entirely resolved to absorb his rage and violence. Alucard's jaw clenched, teeth baring. Tearing claws were folded into the fist that slammed into that passively resolute face. The Vampyre did not once raise his arms to shield or deflect any of the onslaught. The passivity only further enraged him for a moment, but without further fuel added to the fires of his jealousy and self-loathing, both overwhelming emotions were consumed until he was left with nothing but the ashen taste of guilt and shame in his mouth.
The calm expression looking up at him gauged his emotional state as he stared blankly down at what he'd just done. Vampyre flesh was difficult to damage with human strength, but Alucard's blows had struck with the power of a demi-demon behind them, striking hard enough times to for a few bruises to already begin blooming around the cut up cheekbone he'd wailed on. Looking down at that still demon sent pitiful pangs of shame straight through his core as he caught on to why this had happened. Fisting the fabric at the front of the shirt he pulled the elder demon up to a sitting position and sat back on his haunches. The Dhampyre was not proud of himself. He'd shown himself to be just as volatile and predictable as Joachim had warned him against succumbing.
“You have never let me get away with striking you. You always fight back until I have been put in my proper place. I can't help but feel that you did this on purpose, although I do not understand why you wanted to make me so angry.”
“It is because you needed to be, Kitten.” The Vampyre explained calmly. “I explained already why... When the Little One tried to get you to speak about what I am going to ask as well, you hurt him out of protective habit. If you respond to him when he asks you next with even a shred of what you've shown me right now, you will destroy your prized possession. I...” Along the connection a sad sort of affection came through loud and clear. “I am quite used to your tantrums, Adrian. If you can tell me what happened to you, with fists, insults and scorn if you require... Perhaps when you have to tell Trevor, you will be able to do so without them... The tantrum and accoutrements.”
“You pissed me off ahead of time so that I could think clearly enough to talk?”
Yes. The little buzzing hum under his skin confirmed. But also...
“...But also... You are...” Alucard's returning yellow eyes narrowed as he rolled over the uncomfortable probable cause. It had to be correct, based on what the tenuous feedback was giving him. “You may have wanted to spare me breaking my things for my own sake... But you wanted to spare the thing I would break most of all. You were protecting him. Trevor.”
“Yes.” The Vampyre admitted freely. “As I have said... I am quite used to your tantrums.”
I feel... So drained. It was too much to squat where he was, so he lowered himself to the ground, sliding up close before the Vampyre who had drawn knees up to his chest to watch his Dhampyre charge. He extended his longer legs out in a soft bend alongside Joachim, even leaning over to cross his arms and rest his chin on the Vampyre's own knees so as to look at him more evenly. I feel drained, and stupid, and shameful. And you, Joachim, look like you are afraid of what I will do next, even if you are pretending to be unimpressed with my temper. Have I really been so cold and hostile towards you and Leila and all the others these past years? If he thought about it, just recently Yoko had confessed that she liked 'what Trevor Belmont brought out in him.' She'd always called him a stiff bore. She and Julius were always trying to make him crack a smile that he never would... Until Trevor came back. Maybe I have been too distant and removed from my friends and loved ones of late...
He let a hand slip from the Vampyre's knee, opening it invitingly and closing around the one Joachim gave him. They sat still like that, staring into each others eyes while Alucard noted that Joachim allowed him to feel that it was now the Vampyre's turn to suffer unease. “My love for Trevor may border on unhealthy obsession, my friend. I will ask that you refrain from knowingly using him to spite me.”
“That is also why I wanted to speak with you first, Adrian.” Joachim revealed with a soft tone. “I have spoken nothing but truth tonight. In such a short time I have found incredible value in the pretty Rabbit's company. I do wish to spare him from your carelessness, if possible. You are not to blame right now for your reactivity, but still. You will cause harm.” Joachim's own jaw tightened a moment as he contemplated what he would say next, and when he did, Alucard understood the hesitation. “I have felt through our connection that the Little One finds great value in my company, as well. This is a truth you will despise, so I wanted to be the one to tell you first. Be angry with me, Kitten. Spare him your jealousy.”
There it was again... That passive, resolute acceptance of the inevitable pulsing through the tendrils under his skin and in the silver eyes returning his own gaze. Joachim's aura, his body and even the hand held in his own all braced for the next attack that was expected. Alucard did feel the red rage flush through his system, but something kept him rooted in place. Was it that he had already lashed out and beaten the bruising face before him, and found no solace in the act? Or was it that he was more curious than angry to know why his long time friend known for such casual and care-free demon affairs seemed to be in his own way... Trying to preserve the relationship between Trevor and himself, by keeping Alucard from saying or doing anything rash? To what gain?
“What is your deal with my boyfriend, Joachim?” He asked plainly, hoping for just as plain a response. “While I was recovering you were so close at times I could not tell you apart. Now that I am well, I smell you all over him.” Gritting his teeth, he admitted painfully. “I smell him all over you too. Everywhere in this house smells like your lingered scents, mixed. I have never known you to... fawn all over my chosen bed-mates in the past as you do with Trevor. What is it about him that has you acting so out of character?”
“Would you believe me, I wonder... That it is because Trevor Belmont is always happy to see me?”
“That's it? That's your only reason for this fixation on him?”
“Of course not, Kitten. You know yourself how rare a treat he is, lacking any prejudice or cruelty. But that would be the reason that is most important to me... My company is always welcomed by your pretty little pet when not even yourself can welcome my company these days. It is a terrible feeling to be shunned... He's never given me a taste of that.”
“You are not shunned by me.” Alucard stated firmly. “You are my family.”
The Vampyre turned his head to the side and let out a weak laugh in response. “When was the last time we were this close, Adrian? When was the last time you took my hand and we spoke of something more than your ceaseless errands and requests of me? When was the last time you engaged with me in any other way but superficial? Or Leila? We are a strained, perhaps even broken family...”
“No we are not.” He rebuked with a hiss. “I have been absent, yes. I have been distant and unavailable emotionally, perhaps, for both of you, but you understand that my work is for your benefits as well? What good can I do for our kind playing house with you and Leila?”
“Playing house, you say.” Joachim smiled without any warmth to it. “In your agitation, you reveal yourself, Adrian. Being with your family by your own admission appears to be a simple... Game. A suit you pull out of the closet for the odd weekend or holiday.”
“Joachim--”
“Unlike you, Trevor Belmont will not play house. I have both seen and felt his desire to stay with us down to his core. With us. Not just yourself. His warmth is what our home needs, what with yours long abandoned. You've not been welcoming or tolerant since the 16th century when you realized that even if your Belmont had wandered away on his own accord, he'd have died a natural death by the turn of that century.” It was a harsh assessment of Alucard's priorities, but one that the Dhampyre had asked for. “My deal with your boyfriend, is that I can see he is what our lives are lacking, and that his return to your side has made you... A shadow of the kind and noble demon you once were, but a shadow is better than a ghost. I would do anything to protect what has made you capable of regaining your lost self, even if that entails protecting it from you, Adrian... Until you are also happy to welcome me again.”
It couldn't just be that simple, he thought, glowering. Such enamoured devotion and affection because of a warm welcome or two? The Vampyre seemed more like a man with a crush than anything else. A crush on a beautiful creature that was already claimed. “Trevor is mine, Joachim. A smile or two thrown your way will not change the fact that he belongs to me. Those are my smiles.”
“And you are mine, Adrian. I wish you would remember that sometimes. Even the Little One understands what our roles are and what that entails now... If you could only speak with him as a Desire demon is meant to, you may see the truth in our relationship to one another.”
“I can't believe I am even asking this but... Have you slept with him? Is that what this is? You sound like you're in love with him.”
“No, Kitten, it's not. Sex is not love for demons, I've told you.”
“I've been out for weeks. Trevor suffers from night terrors when he sleeps alone. Did you watch him struggle with his frightful dreams, I wonder? Because I believe it more likely that you lay down next to him so as to sooth him through them. Am I right?” The humming threads under his skin recoiled, but relayed in honesty that yes, Joachim had. “When he wakes, is he happy to see you there holding him?” Another painful question to ask, and an even more painful affirmation to accept it was, then. “So this practice of yours, am I to assume your two aura's twisted up near every hour of the day while I was out?”
“Repetition of form and manoeuvre is the very definition of practice.”
“I suppose you are correct there.” His pulse was quickening, breath hitching. There was no use avoiding the other burning question he had. Prolonging it would not serve any one, nor lessen the agony of the truth. “Tell me straight... Have you fed from him?”
Joachim's silver eyes widened and the current between them jumped tellingly. While the Vampyre no longer needed to say the word out loud, for he had already admitted it through their connection alone, when the single word 'yes' fell from bloodless lips, it felt like the final nail in the coffin.
Alucard closed his eyes. He was too drained to be livid. Too exhausted from feeling all the things he and the one he was still tied to were feeling amplified as they were to be furious. Or sad. Or hurt himself over the image of Trevor moaning in that hushed breathy way he usually did, while writhing in Joachim's arms as the Vampyre's teeth penetrated his flesh. Hurt that Joachim had felt the perfect way Trevor tensed and relaxed in his arms as the pleasure in the act they shared brought the Hunter to the brink and then over into ecstasy. Did the Vampyre even know the right way Trevor liked to be kissed and where to run his tongue along the Hunter's flesh to warm him up for the bite itself? Did the Vampyre know what perfect angle to place a thigh so that Trevor could slide along easily to heighten his own pleasure? Did he even bother to hold and caress the pretty French flower while the Hunter found his way back to lucidity?
“It is not what you think at all, Kitten.” Joachim stressed, catching his chin to ensure he would meet the Vampyre's silver eyes. “A kindness offered for helping you that I was too famished to resist. I was quite drained after my run-in with the Lilû. I was offered sustenance. Nothing more.”
“Did he... Enjoy it?”
“It was nothing to him. A chore.” Joachim insisted. “There is no need to cry over it, Kitten, really.”
Alucard flinched at the hand wiping his tears, fixated on the fact that that, yes, he was crying about the possibility of Trevor sharing his body, voice, pleasures, and his gift of blood with anyone other than himself. “Is that so?” He sniffed, trying to pull it together. “You dug into me and made me suffer these unpleasant sensations for what? You have intentionally made me furious in an effort to ensure you could tell me you and my boyfriend have grown extremely close while I was out of it, so that I would get mad and punch you instead of him. That is my understanding of your actions tonight. You want me furious with you alone for the fact you are telling me you've fallen for him and you claim he is doing the same for you. That is what I am understanding. Am I understanding this correctly?”
The connection between them twisted under his skin uncomfortably, disappointment and melancholy drowning out his own anguish and sullen, tired anger. Joachim's aura vibrated as if the Vampyre did not quite know himself how he wanted to respond, or what he was feeling. “No, Adrian... No. Even when I am speaking human words, you fail to listen to me. I just want you to embrace this part of you that you've always neglected, because within this half of your denied lineage lay what your beloved needs and desires from you. I hoped to ease you into it, so you could provide for him what he will ask of you without lashing out in the anger and revulsion you consistently show me. And yes, it's also a selfish desire on my part because I can see that the Little One seems to be the only thing that makes you want to regain what made you so special the first time I laid eyes on you...” A pitiful voice sighed in near defeat. “Is it so unbelievable that I just desire to help you to keep whatever can inspire you to be yourself once more?”
“No, I don't believe your claims, because you've basically said you're falling in love him without saying it out loud! In all the years I've known you, you have never once said you loved any of your trysts or fuckbuddies, but the one guy I fucking adore you're saying you've now got the hots for!?”
“Of course I am.” Joachim finally answered plainly, looking at him as if he were daft for even questioning it. “And for the last time, sex has nothing to do with love for our--”
“How can you just say that like it's nothing!?”
“Because you adore him, you halfbreed nitwit! I welcome what my own pet adores with open--”
“Or how can you imply that he is... I can't believe this... Falling for you too!?”
“I imagine it's the exact same reason I have to feel this way. Because he adores you, and you belong to me, you dense, petulant child!”
Alucard discovered several minutes later when he was finally made aware of his surroundings, drained of his all-consuming rage and bitter anguish... That he had not been too exhausted after all to choke out a Vampyre. The formerly pale face below him was blue, silver watery eyes red-veined, with one splatter of a burst vessel even evident alongside one gleaming iris. So tightly had he crushed the long pale throat in his grip, it was an effort to peel his fingers away one by painful one. The skin below was also as red as the veins in silver eyes, purple whorls beginning where his fingertips had pressed. He had done that... Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș. The gentle Demon Prince. The peaceful ambassador. It didn't matter he had attacked a demon that could overpower him. It was a demon that never raised a hand to fight back.
He remembered the Yōsei. The Dark Metamorphosis in the cave. The beating hearts ripped free and devoured. The torture and pain. The fear that he'd lost his chance to be with Trevor forever. The anger and despair, bending over to surrender and accept what a simple-minded demon thought nothing of taking from him, but knowing that even the repeated undesired copulation paled in comparison to the real humiliation and desecration. The Witch and her aura, worming their ways through his guts, in his mind, and everywhere in between. Seeing his every weakness, every fault, every self-conscious and self-loathing sentiment he had and tried to hide. She'd opened him up and revealed he was lacking. She took his dignity and his pride when she took the stones from him. That was the real rape.
All this anger, jealousy and possessiveness? Because the only thing he had left to salvage... Was Trevor.
But such a petty, ugly monster who'd do what he'd just done right now... Trevor wouldn't love that monster. Nobody could.
In a voice that was no longer capable of carrying the richness that Alucard loved to listen to, Joachim spoke once he'd pulled himself back up into a seated position, studying his younger demon counterpart with pity. “The last thing I wanted to achieve tonight was getting you to tell me what happened to you down in those caves... So that you had a chance to take any of your anger out on me.” A clawed hand fingered the freshly forming bruises and claw punctures on that ravaged throat mindlessly, silver eyes lowering to avoid the golden gaze. “I am glad that I am the one you told first... My body is more sturdy than the pretty Rabbit's, as is my mental state... I am used to your tantrums, after all.”
“I... Joachim...” His hand reached out automatically, but when the Vampyre skid back along the floor out of his range, what was he supposed to expect? He'd savaged Joachim's visage for the consideration and desire the Vampyre had to protect the man Alucard was in love with. Even from the possibility his unstable self would be what Trevor needed to be shielded from.
The threads beneath his skin slipped free, and all at once Alucard lost the connection to the other Moroi, but not before he could feel the barrier concealing that yawning chasm crumble. Joachim was mired in a black fathomless misery, filled to the brim with a sadness that sunk far below depression, being held together by only thin threads of waning gold energy. The connection cut before Alucard could say for certain... But it felt like the Vampyre was close to giving up... On what, he could not say.
“You did not deserve what happened to you... I could not get the details, but I felt the consequences you suffered. Your violation... I understand why you lashed out at Trevor for asking you about what you were forced to endure. I also understand why your jealousy and temper have been exacerbated. A loss of agency does tend to make one over correct what they can control. He is a good thing that you've managed to hold onto.”
“There is no... No excuse... For what I did to you.”
“I am used to your tantrums, I've said. Think nothing of it.”
“That's not... You can't just shrug your shoulders and pretend just because you're older, stronger and in our little hierarchy, my Master, that what just happened is no big deal. Not this time.”
“What should I do then, my pet? Punish you? There is no punishment I could mete out that would top the ways with which you will torment yourself. There is no value in me raising a hand against you.”
“It would be the least I deserve.”
“This is excusable. I forgive it. You are suffering... And while I am far to lenient a Master many would say, I still achieved what I set out to do. You are now aware of what is going to be asked of you by your precious teacup. You are now also aware that the pretty delicate teacup does not mind me drinking from it the same as you do. I am aware now of the deep pain and suffering that Coven has caused my precious Ivory Angel. I am prepared now to help you when you tell me the finer details of what exactly you lost while a captive of this Coven. You do not have to share the hard part. I've felt it already. Telling me the facts should be easy... Once I know the facts, we will decide together what needs to be done, and what needs to be handed off to the Iron Maiden.” All this was said in a tattered but confident voice, yet Alucard could not help but notice the Vampyre still would not meet his eyes. “The only person who had to get hurt unnecessarily to achieve all this was me. And it is a trivial handful of wounds. Some bruises and a few claw pinpricks. Think nothing of it, Kitten.”
“No.” His sudden insistence, cutting loudly across the quiet kitchen, startled the Vampyre. “Your mercy cannot be accepted this time. I do not even know where to begin to start making this right, but give me something. I'll do anything... Just to start. I don't want to be this person.”
“...All right.” Joachim whispered, climbing to his feet.
The Vampyre did not go very far, just stepping by his kneeling shrivelled form to slide down to a seated position against the kitchen wall. He motioned for Alucard to join him, which he apprehensively did, oddly insisting that the Dhampyre sit shoulder to shoulder with him, as if he hadn't just been abused by the younger demon. Ghostly tendrils fetched the packaged sweets from the table the same time the Vampyre was setting out his phone on the little ring-stand before them. Before Alucard could muster the courage to ask, a pink mochi cookie was held up to his lips, hovering there until he took a bite. Strawberry flavour. Joachim popped the remaining half in his mouth and fiddled on his phone.
“Maurice or Kiss of the Spider Woman?”
“I'm... Sorry?”
“You prefer romance stories. So do you want to watch Maurice, as you have always had the hots for a young Hugh Grant and the happy ending will make you feel better? Or do you want to watch Kiss of the Spider Woman because you're feeling guilty and only deserve a bittersweet one to match you current mood?”
“...You want to watch a movie with me?”
“And eat this bag of cookies, yes, Kitten. You said you would do anything to start making amends for tonight.”
“...This is... Really what you want from me to start? Really..?”
“...Yes.” Joachim confirmed. “When I get bored of your mushy dramas, I will close my eyes for a much needed meditative rest. You will stay with me when I do, and perhaps even lend me your shoulder. That is acceptable?”
“Yes, of course... It's just not exactly...”
“It is what I want. You did say anything.”
“...Then queue them both up. Maurice to finish... Might as well end on a hopeful high note.” He relented, giving the battered Vampyre a sidelong look. “After all the fucked up shit that I perpetuated against you, I really can't do anything else for you but watch a couple of melodramas?”
The only response he received to his question was another cookie stuffed in his mouth.
Notes:
Funny story. This chapter ballooned passed 30K words, so obviously for pacing and everyone's poor eyeballs I cracked it in twain. And I still didn't get to the plot point I cut last time. So while I don't even know what I am doing anymore, the next chapter should be up sooner than this one went up, since it's 19K long on it's own already.
But I picked a new victim for suffering for a change. Trevor caught a break. He's still enjoying his trophywife goals.
Chapter 46: A Proposal
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
All right... What exactly am I looking at here?
One pot of burnt coffee dregs in a nearly empty peculator.
Two half-filled mugs of cold filmy coffee.
Two toppled over kitchen stools.
One empty plastic package of cookies and accompanying sleeve.
One propped up phone with a dead battery.
One passed out Dhampyre with reddish abrasions on his right knuckles, resting his head atop the Vampyre's on his shoulder.
One deeply meditative Vampyre wearing a worryingly out of place dreamy smile on his half swollen face, tucked what looked to be happily against the taller Dhampyre.
Lastly, one deeply disturbed, deeply confused, deeply conflicted Vampyre Hunter, staring around the aftermath of a violent scene that had taken place inside a small Japanese kitchen. That about summed up all the parts of this puzzle Trevor was trying to piece together into some kind of narrative that lead to any logical conclusion. Unfortunately, none of his attempted compositions made any fucking sense whatsoever, so he settled for crouching before the two main attractions, as at least when viewed side by side – as they conveniently were cuddled up together – they told a fairly clear cut story. Albeit an unsettling one...
For some reason and somehow, considering the Dhampyre was still recovering from brutal torture and imprisonment, Adrian had pummelled the hell out of Joachim last night. And for some reason and somehow, considering that Joachim loved to keep the pecking order in order, the Vampyre had let the his younger unruly charge do it. It didn't make any sense for the already specified reasons his mind had supplied, but also because he knew Adrian was not the kind of person to have this in him outside extreme circumstance... His demon lover could barely find it within himself to tug on Trevor's hair when he'd all but asked the man too back in Lupu. The closest Adrian had ever come to being rough with him had been when he'd initiated what was meant to be their parting final lovemaking with the highly stressed Dhampyre the same night he attempted to take his own life. An extreme circumstance. While he could only vaguely recall everything before the fight that night, even Adrian's version of rough had been considerate. When it came to friends, Adrian always used a soft touch... Well, that was how Trevor knew him, at least.
What was laid out before his eyes truly unsettled him. Why was Joachim smiling with a busted up face? The image called up a buried memory thought forgotten about how a long time ago in France, before his sons had been born, Estée had told him in confidence about a friend of hers whose husband was a cruel brute. The friend forever made excuses for the cowardly scum who could only raise a hand against his wife and children. At the time Estée lamented about the poor girl's lot, Trevor had just turned in a hefty bounty on a rather large pack of wargs. While his young family could have really used the cushion of funds considering they had just recently found out his wife was pregnant, he offered it to Estée for the girl. She had family two villages over, and what he'd just been paid would more than get her there and feed her small children for weeks if she was frugal with it. The girl wouldn't take it, and the one time Trevor saw the couple in question, she'd clung to her oaf of a husband religiously. Wearing a smile just like Joachim wore right now.
Trevor had no choice but to admit, he didn't like the association now that the two points in time were linked. Not one bit.
Gently, the Hunter reached out and pulled Joachim forward, making sure to catch and lower Adrian down to the floor lightly so as not to wake him. Once he had them separated, he pulled the bewildered Vampyre, still caught in the haze of a now broken meditation, to his feet along with him and urged the demon to follow on his heels. The Vampyre seemed so reluctant to leave the Dhampyre's side it took taking him by hand to lead away towards the study. With a hand on the small of Joachim's back to lightly push him inside, he reached out with the other to close the door for a semblance of privacy, only to be stopped by the Vampyre's plea.
“Do not do that. We have nothing to hide, and if he awakens, I'd like him to see that.”
Trevor stilled, door still gripped in his spare hand until the plaintive look in Joachim's eyes made him relent. He released the door but insisted the Vampyre take a seat on the couch so that he could better study the injury by the bright floor lamp. It was a cut-up cheekbone and associated bruising. Adrian had picked a spot and hit it until the combined force was enough to damage Vampyre flesh... He must have been punching at full strength as well. Trevor had punched his fair share of Vampyres, so he knew what it took to break their skin with blunt force.
What... is that? In the brighter light of the large floor lamp, it was easy to see that there was more to this gruesome puzzle. Not just the swollen face, but red and purple marks also marred the pale column below a defined jawline. The shape and pattern of the markings were far too distinct to write-off as anything other than what it was. The size of the familiar outline as well could not be denied. Adrian don't tell me... You strangled him?
“Do not look so troubled, Little One.” Spoke a voice that should have been rich and velvety smooth. It was not the auditory version of sliding on an elbow-length evening wear glove that it should have been at all. Instead it was a scratchy moth-eaten wool glove that was still crunchy from being stepped on with a muddy boot. That was not Joachim's voice. It didn't sound right at all.
“A tad too late for that request. I am very troubled. Please tell me what is going on, and how concerned I need to be.”
“Causing you some form of alarm was not one of my listed goals to achieve last night, so I'll ask that you cease and desist, Belle.”
“Non, Bête.” The words had left his mouth so swiftly and sounding just as scandalized as the movie Belle's refusals, the pair of them could only blink slowly at one another until the Vampyre cracked a wide grinned.
“Oh my, you ought to start exercising more caution, Beautiful. Stay this current course and I will be left with no choice but to start ending our conversations with a marriage proposal after all.”
“Joachim please... Are you okay? Does that hurt? You look... Paler than you should.” The Vampyre dodged the brush of his fingers with only a twist of his head. “It looks swollen and there is a gash...”
Not to say that it was only the bruising and split skin he was concerned with. Joachim's aura was everywhere, as the Vampyre explained he was monitoring a wide part of the surrounding area in the event the Witch or her familiar showed up, but there was something very different about the way a small portion of that energy balled up inside the demon. The agitated essence was just as reactive and alert as what guarded the perimeter... So then, what was Joachim guarding inside? With Trevor's still amateurish handling of the whole aura business, he was aware there was no way he was going to be able to get beneath what a master of the craft was hiding. Belmont Vampyre Hunter's were well known for their tenacity, however, so with determination and persistence, he did manage to scrape his metaphysical fingernail so to speak under the lid, cracking it a hairsbreadth.
Everyone read energy in their own unique way, but there were certain primary senses that certain people fell back on to assist with making sense of the feedback. Trevor was visual, Joachim had informed him while teaching the basics. For Trevor, as they learned together, it was easier to picture what he was doing, as if he were actually doing it in his mind. What he pictured, popping that lid at first was darkness. Just pure inescapable darkness. Not a lid, actually, but more a heavy double-gated fortress slamming back shut. But hadn't there been something in that darkness..? If he could get the door back open, maybe he could find it?
“Do not touch my blood, I've said. I enjoy you as you are.” Joachim quipped, pulling back from him both physically as well as metaphysically.
It was a clear 'stay out', if Trevor had ever heard one. “I'm not a child. I do not go to sticking my damn fingers in my mouth after everything I touch, and I'd have to ingest your blood to change.” Grappling with a growing frustration and discontent, Trevor hopped back up to his feet and threw up his hand, pointing accusingly. “Speaking of plans and goals, you two getting into brawls or feuding will be putting a real hitch in my own. But whatever, I guess, you are grown ass ancient demons.”
“What goals and plans are you scheming, Little One? You will share, I imagine?”
“Go put some snow on your face while I make breakfast.” Huffing out of the office he turned on a heel and pointed directly at the smiling devil on the couch, stating sternly. “If you have any suggestions for the menu, keep them. I am not taking any.”
It did nothing for his irritation that as the very devil in question stepped outside to comply, he'd chuckled to himself. “Ahh, I've taught him so well!”
“This is probably my fault for being so pleased with how things were going, too. That will teach me to dream...” Muttering under breath, the Hunter stepped into the kitchen and began straightening the mess. Righting toppled stools, rinsing cups and coffee pot to refill. Tossing discarded packaging and even wiping up the splatter of blood across the floor and up the lower cabinets. Blue-grey eyes kept finding their way towards Adrian's still slumped form, resting what looked to be peacefully in a tiny bit of chaos. “Apparently I am not allowed to have nice things like two harmoniously doting demons.” Still staring at Adrian, he shook his head and brushed long hair from his eyes. There was no point kicking the Dhampyre awake to berate him. He hadn't been present when the one-sided fight broke out, and who knew what was the catalyst. “Not to mention... I suppose I also was violent when I first woke up after my ordeal. You forgave me... I guess if he's forgiven you...”
I don't even know any more. Trevor sighed again, and turned back to the task at hand, pulling out leeks and soft cheese, eggs and that thickly sliced bread the Vampyre was so fond of. Rarebit, the Hunter was fairly certain Joachim had stated was the simple little comfort-food that he made often. Some Welsh concoction or other, which was warm, gooey and had just enough buttery crispness to it, that as a Frenchman he felt wasn't completely sacrilegious to make. It's not like the choice of the meal was for his sake, however, so he could suck up some French pride. It was for Joachim's comfort. He chopped the leeks up and drowned them in melted butter first, stirring absentmindedly.
It was a few minutes after he'd stood there in a fog that the Vampyre came back inside to try and take over, but the Hunter was having none of it and made that very clear. Surprisingly, Joachim acquiesced and took a seat without much of a fight, accepting the cleaned and refilled mug of coffee graciously. There was a plastic bag filled with packed snow held to the battered side of his face. One of those little bags that 'zipped'. The name escaping him was on the tip of his tongue, which was annoying, as it was a newly learned word as well.
“Ziploc!” Victorious, he only realized he'd spoken the recalled brand name out loud accidentally when Joachim raised a single eyebrow.
“What about?”
“Nothing. How's your swollen face?” He asked instead. “It looks a bit better.”
“You are concerned for nothing, Little One. Kitten is by no means a martial artist, or even a good bar brawler, drunk or not. Have you ever witnessed him throw a punch? Let's just say it's a good thing he's got some of his old man Dracula's strength in him. His form is absolutely atrocious. Believe me, you have no idea how many times he had to hit me to do even this pitiful amount of damage.” The Vampyre threw up a hand as if waving the whole affair away into the past. “I've seen you throw some masterful ones though, sweet Rabbit. Why haven't you given him pointers?” Then considering with a laugh, he finished. “Or have you already and he's just not listened? Don't feel too bad if that's the case. He's a terrible student.”
“Adrian is too... Refined for my kind of fighting.” Trevor replied after a measured pause. Try as he might, he still couldn't picture the dignified Dhampyre rolling up his sleeves to settle a dispute. But he obviously had. “Or so I thought. You care to tell me what this was all about?”
“Do not think ill of Kitten. I pressed some buttons on purpose hoping to get him to face the dark clouds consuming him. While I've yet to be given the details, the damage he revealed done to his person was significant. Please take that into consideration when you pass judgment upon his actions.”
“I... am not passing any judgment. I was not present. I would just like to be on record as stating I do not wish to see any more friendly fire. That is not too much ask?” When Joachim shrugged and glanced over at his younger counterpart, Trevor turned back to the stove. It was time to start toasting bread and cheese in the oven. “From what you are telling me, it sounds like he is not ready to talk about it... Which is fine. I can wait.” Obviously. I've waited since we climbed out of that cave, already.
“Apologies, Bunny. I am aware it is difficult for you to be sidelined when you care so deeply.”
“Oh, it's that... Other stuff, as well. I am not so altruistic, I'm afraid.” He confessed with a grim press of his lips.
“We all have our 'other stuff' too, even when acting with compassion. It's not an inherent fault to have an agenda.” Joachim excused him without even pretending to think it over. “Hmm... Looks like our wounded little pet in question rouses. You'll be kind to him, I ask?”
Rather then answer promptly, Trevor turned the leeks down on low and held off putting the prepared bread in under the glowing red elements, all to watch Adrian's eyes flutter open slowly. The Dhampyre gazed about the room and the people in it as if still in a dream, sitting up and feeling about the ground and then himself like he did not fully believe he was real and in his own kitchen. Those yellow eyes looked clear for the first time since Adrian had climbed out of the grave, and now they were looking at him with so much longing and sadness, Trevor couldn't understand why. They were steps from one another, if the man wanted to reach out and touch him, he just had to crawl on over. Hell, Trevor would go to him, if necessary. In fact, he almost did just based on how slow and unsteady his Dhampyre was climbing to his feet, the tall demon seeming so small and meek once he'd gained his balance and could trade looks between the other two in the room.
“I...” Adrian started to say something but fell silent with a solemn shake of his head. He seemed to shrink even further into himself, and Trevor just... Could not be mad, or sad, or disappointed. He was still so happy to see Adrian alive and well and grateful being able to look into that beautiful face without someone or something actively trying to kill them or tear them apart. “Th-Thank you...” The Dhampyre's voice choked when Trevor closed the distance to throw his arms around the big dumb lummox. It was going to be okay eventually. They would get there together. So for now Trevor was satisfied to let Adrian fold him up in that perfect fit and squeeze damn near all the air out of his lungs. A worthy sacrifice.
“I am making breakfast. You'll eat with us, I hope.” Trevor murmured into a warm shirt, patted a broad shoulder, and broke away to bake bread. When he turned back around from sliding the oven tray inside, he caught Adrian in the act of kneeling before Joachim, placing his hands on either side of the stool where the Vampyre perched. “I am not going to ask what happened... Just state that I hope it is over and done with.”
“Precious Rabbit, it is over and done with.” Joachim sounded as if he was answering Trevor's complaint, but it was quite obvious from where his silver gaze rested who he was really speaking to. “We've already kissed and made up, isn't that right, Kitten.”
“...Hardly.” Adrian replied in a morose tone. It wasn't meant to be an argument from his perspective, evidently. The Dhampyre's sorrowful eyes misted, but not a single tear slipped free until he lay his head on the Vampyre's lap, hands sliding to rest on shapely thighs. Nothing held the slow sparse droplets back once Adrian was in place. “I am not proud of myself.”
“For half a second there, I was convinced you were going to suck my dick. Way to disappoint a guy.” The elder demon joked, but when it didn't have the desired effect of annoying Adrian to snap back with something sarcastic, Joachim rolled his eyes and gave the younger demon a shake. “Will you lighten up?” Failing to remove the clingy Dhampyre, the elder Moroi rolled his eyes harder and resorted to patting Adrian's head like he was a little boy. In fact, if Trevor had to compare, it did remind him of the way his sons would get guiltily affectionate after breaking one of Estée's more treasured things. They too would have clung on whimpering apologies long after their mother had forgiven them. “What are you hoping to gain by groveling before me? This is not what I wanted at all, I'm just putting it out there.”
“I'm sorry.” Adrian mumbled miserably.
“I will legitimately do anything to make you stop moping on my person. Just tell me what you want me to do, Princeling.”
“Hit me back? Scold me? Dress me down, and tell me every which way from Sunday how much of a fuck up I am?” The Dhampyre suggested submissively. “Harsh manual labour? Tedious practice exercises? Cruel and unusual favours?”
“Absolutely not. I'm over it, why aren't you?”
“Because I don't deserve your mercy this time, Joachim.” The weepy Dhampyre whined pathetically. “What I did was inexcusable... Just punish me in some fashion. Get creative.”
“I think you are doing just swell on your own, insofar as the whole punishing yourself department. Frankly, even if I was feeling vindictive, this whole display would be a boner killer.” Turning sharply towards Trevor, who was frozen in place gawking at the bizarre scene playing out in front of him, Joachim lifted a finger into the air and waggle it as he spoke. “You are young, Pretty Rabbit, so allow me to advise. If anyone is ever aroused by your tears, you should get as far away from that person as possible. That is a lesson I am giving you for free today that I was forced to hard-learn through experience.”
“Umm... Noted.” Trevor tilted his head, perplexed, but the smell of bread seconds from making the jump from toasted to perfection to charred caused him to break away and tend to breakfast. A mental note was made to look up the word 'boner' for later. “I can give him a reason to sit up, if you need one.”
“Yes, perfect!” Joachim jumped on the opportunity. “You are insisting upon the desire to make even more amends in spite of you already doing what I wanted last night, yes? Then listen to the Rabbit all day. Whatever he wants you to do, you do it. To the letter.”
“This is... Why are you continuously letting me off so easy?” Adrian bemoaned. “Doing what Trevor wants me to isn't a punishment, it's a pleasure.”
“That is quite the statement. I am not exactly certain how I feel about both that revelation and the fact that I am being passed off the duty off doling out discipline. But for the sake of breakfast... Get up.” Trevor commanded. “Get off the floor, go grab yourself a cup of coffee and then you may sit down at the table properly. We're going to have breakfast together like a goddamn family, whether you like it or not. I am celebrating the fact that everyone I like is awake and healthy under one roof, and nobody is going to spoil that for me.”
From his peripherals he thought he saw that Adrian popped up to comply, but he did not turn his head to confirm. There were other things to do, such as slicing the crusts off two out of three plates of rarebit, as well as cutting the cheesy egg bake into little cubes. It had been such an automatic habit, to be honest, now that he was staring at the result, made him feel terribly homesick. Something about taking out three plates for a meal had muscle memory prepping the food like he was feeding his small sons. It was a touch embarrassing, but mostly bittersweet... Soon though. Soon he would be back in familiar air and forests. Having already cut them free, he tossed the crusts in a bowl to use for French onion soup later, and slid the plates of food in front of the pair of demons before finally taking his own place at the table.
“Oh my, Kitten, look. Because of your woeful antics he has cut up our food like we are tiny children.” Joachim seemed pretty pleased with the extra step in spite of his comment.
“You cut the crust off...” Adrian observed in a low voice, poking a cube with his fork.
Joachim really liked that, now that he was made aware. “Goodness, we must truly be acting infantile in your opinion to warrant such treatment, Little One.”
Still feeling bitter and suffering the sudden pangs from missing those sweet little faces that used to wake him by jumping on his bed, Trevor couldn't find it in himself to play along with the Vampyre, instead defaulting to his own morose sentimentality. “Not at all... It is a father's habit, I am afraid. My sons did not care for the crusts.” The memory shared took the energy down a level in the room. Hadn't he said he meant this to be a celebratory meal too? “There were some lean weeks here and there back in France, and even Wallachia where my meals consisted solely of the crusts cut off of my children's bread. So I apologize if I have caused offence. I didn't mean to patronize either of you.”
“I bet you were a wonderful father.” Joachim decided after a quiet moment had passed. “Your cooking is up to par.”
Adrian was still fiddling with his food, moving the cubes around like he was pushing wooden soldiers on a war counsel map, wearing a small smile as he did so. Almost shyly, he raised his yellow eyes to meet Trevor's and confessed with a childish little laugh. “I hate the crust on bread too.”
The tension was cut succinctly after that silly confession, and Trevor was relieved to see the ass end of it until the inevitable next thing cropped up to ruin his good times. He was a realist, after all. The Vampyre dominated the conversation, informing them that he would have to leave shortly to pick up some documents for their imminent departure, but assured them that he would keep an eye on things. He wasn't going so far that anyone or any demon would be able to sneak by in his absence. Adrian and Joachim talked about flights and planes. They argued some too, settling on something called business class, and an entourage to pick them up upon arrival in Romania. They argued about that too. Adrian had wanted to go as 'Genya Arikado', but Joachim was insistent he needed to fly legally for safety. The Vampyre won out, and Alucard Țepeș would be the passport used. As an Ambassador, Adrian needed a security detail once they landed in Romania. On his part, for everything Adrian tried to talk up about taking one of these flights on the plane, Joachim could not help cutting in with a definitive criticism. The whole conversation left Trevor skeptical about a huge hunk of metal soaring though the skies that had absolutely zero to do with Dracula's magick Castle, and sort of nervous about requiring to get on one. If people were meant to fly, they would have wings, right?
Adrian insisted on washing the dishes so that left Trevor free to... Do a whole lot of nothing. The house was empty and with Joachim gone, nobody was going to conjure up any swords to swing, or help him practice his new – some forced – hobbies. He felt a little lonely too, left with his thoughts and feelings to sort through solo. It was... Comforting to link up with a trusted companion. To feel another's hand smooth his erratic energy when he was vibrating in place and near sick with anxieties. He would have liked to try with Adrian, but his Dhampyre looked exhausted, and was busy packing up a hard box with wheels he called a suitcase for this imminent flight. He was complaining about which two suits Joachim had left him as well as a terrible itch that had started in his hands and crept up steadily to the point he was scratching at his arms and legs whenever he stopped folding, arranging and refolding items into these things called packing cubes that went inside the suitcase. Trevor gave up pretty quick trying to understand the method to the box. He had always rolled his garments to fit into a rucksack. They took up less space that way.
Bored now but not wanting to be a pest, the Hunter rummaged around the sparse possessions left in the home and came across Joachim's tattered black shirt from the night the Lilû had.. well... Not attacked, per say, but made an appearance. The little holes splintering the front of the shirt and it's sleeves was an easy enough fix, and to be frank, if he was going convince Adrian to buy him fabric for a bunny suit, it wouldn't hurt to get back into practice with an old loved hobby of a bygone era. A tattered shirt was perfect practice. Right where it had been discovered the first time was a blue circular tin that at first glance would lead one to assume it held biscuits, but in actuality inside was secreted thread and needles of several colours. He chose a gradient of softer blues, as that appeared to be the Vampyre's favourite colour, with a little bit of white and navy to accent, and started to darn the holes one by one. The movement came back like flexing a stiff muscle, and before long his hands started to move without conscious thought. The basic idea was completed before Adrian was even done half-packing up what he called a carry-on, so Trevor felt okay to pester him a touch. It was for his nearly completed project.
“What month was Joachim born in?” He asked as the Dhampyre passed by, which seemed to catch Adrian off guard. Almost as if Adrian had to put effort into recalling the simple fact, which was kind of sad if you thought about it considering he'd know the other demon for centuries. How could one spend hundreds of years with a person and not know such a basic fact about them?
“September.” Adrian finally settled on. “Actually, when you were off on your little adventure with him, he took you to a restaurant that overlooked the mountains. That was on his birthday, he mentioned. Why do you ask?”
“For a pattern.” He replied, but the answer seemed to only mystify the Dhampyre, who gave him a strange little smile, before carrying about his business. With Adrian occupied, Trevor borrowed his phone to search up the constellation and plotted out which of the repaired tatters he would turn into the anchor points. He was pretty proud of himself and his speed as when Joachim walked through the door and joined them in the study to pass off a large yellow envelope accompanied by two smaller white ones, Trevor was able to toss the finished work into his now empty arms. “Here.”
“What is this now..?” Joachim inspected the repair job, gradient blue starbursts set on a sea of black, the largest of which created the astrological sign. “Stars?”
“Virgo.” He corrected. “You were born in mid September, Adrian says.”
“Bunny, I absolutely love it!” The Vampyre preened with his new prize loudly enough it drew Adrian's attention from the collection of documents he was sifting through. The Dhampyre did his best to try and study the shirt over a smaller shoulder, but Joachim kept pulling it out of his purview. “He made it for me, Kitten. You earn your own special shirt.”
By this point, Trevor was expecting Adrian to get snippy and maybe a touch jealous. Maybe even go so far as to demand to know where his special shirt was after all. It seemed to be how the two demon's interactions generally went down thus far in his experience, but Adrian surprised him, simply smiling weakly and telling the Vampyre it looked nice and that he deserved such a thoughtful gift. The reaction kind of made Trevor wish he actually had made Adrian something as well. It's not like repairing the shirt had been planned, as it had been mere inspiration born from boredom and frugality. It had been a perfectly repairable shirt. Taking another peek inside the circular tin, red, what could pass for gold, and more white thread was found... He pulled them out remembering the little square fabric that decorated Adrian's jacket pocket. It shouldn't be too hard to embroider the Shield of Țepeș on such a tiny piece of fabric.
“What is this, Joachim? I already had a fake passport made for him.” Adrian was asking, back to thumbing through documents, each pass through more hasty and staggered, as he flipped back and forth more and more, as if trying to verify what he was looking at. “This isn't a fake passport, this is a real temporary one.” Stepping into Joachim's field of vision in order to tear the Vampyre's attention free from his customized shirt, Adrian held out a small little white book with what was undeniably the emblem of the Church emblazoned upon it. “This is a temporary demon passport.” Adrian's voice was as measured as his gaze.
“Of course, Kitten.” The Vampyre confirmed cheerily, and Trevor watched the formally contrite demon swallow down that usual anger that came out of him when dealing with the elder demon to keep a civil tone.
“This is a registrar for a new classification pending examination, Joachim.” Adrian stressed. “That's his full birth name and picture and everything. You've applied and started to register him with the Church. As a demon!?”
“Yes, Princeling. You are the demon Ambassador, remember? Your entourage is all demons. Your attendant travelling with you should be a demon. You're going to have him examined by the Iron Maiden's cronies anyway. This way everything is above board, and Iron Liza knows what to expect from you. Your little human pets have likely already fessed up, so there's no point hiding the very large white elephant in the room, you will agree?”
“Temporary Species classification pending review: Albus Lepus? Seriously!?”
“White Rabbit?” Trevor repeated, translating out loud. “Is that... Me?” Grabbing the white booklet from Adrian's loose grip, he opened it to face his own image and read a list of details that described him. Brown Hair. Blue eyes. His height, his weight. Skin colour. His ethnicity was three letters 'TBD'. As was whatever his Family, Genus, and Sub-Type/Species (if applicable)... All this 'TBD'. Below that was what Adrian had commented on; Temporary Species classification pending review: Albus Lepus. There was a weird collection of letters and numbers after that, along with one of those barcodes. One page was just a long confusing paragraph about the limited use of this temporary passport, good for the anomalous demon specified, and that demon only. Must be accompanied by a guarantor who was fully registered. Stamped in red on every information page was a bold lettered font that spelled out PENDING REVIEW. Looking at the tiny collection of official sounding words all listed out in such a format made Trevor uncomfortable and nervous all over again... Was this review the examination that Joachim had been so against when the demons spoke of what was to come in the shower? The thing that may be painful or dangerous... or both?
“He had a fake passport already! One that didn't raise every red flag! Why did you do this?”
“I just told you, halfbreed! So it's all above board, and security is tight. When you get on that plane, you are doing it under your legal name, Ambassador Alucard Țepeș, alongside the temporarily unclassified rare specimen you personally are escorting under your diplomatic protection to the Church. No one can say you are crawling out of hiding with a little dirty secret. It's the best way to control the damage that's already been caused by the rumour mill. Secrecy's time is long gone; it's time to be bold. Stepping back into the limelight via this method and you loudly announcing what actions you are taking is going to make the world at large think you have actually a plan, and are not flailing in the wind. Which we both know is what you truly are doing. Clear?”
“It's just that, don't you think this will cause Trevor more issues in the long run?”
“Unless your intentions have been misinterpreted, Trevor Belmont is going to be staying with you for a good long while, Adrian. You are a very public figure. Given that, this is the only way for him to live in your world without having to hide who he is.” Joachim insisted. “Come talk to me after you've met with Iron Spikes for Jesus. I think you'll agree by then that I have forced your hand in the correct direction.”
“This book claims that I am a... A demon.” Trevor interrupted. “You said it is easier for me to travel with Adrian if I am perceived as one?” He waited for Joachim to give some kind of positive affirmation, but what he got was a Vampyre reaching out to take the book out of his hands in order to give it back to the flustered Dhampyre. Looking at his now empty clawed hands, he wiggled his fingers drawing Adrian's attention. “If it makes your life easier, then what is the harm? I think I can pass for one.”
“It is not my life that needs to be easy, Trevor...” Adrian rocked back and forth on his heels, staring at the booklet and documents as if hoping their contents had changed from the last time he'd looked them over. “But no thanks to our Vampyre babysitter, it's too late to take it back. We can have everything straightened out once we're back in Wallachia, I promise. We can also... Get you a real passport. A normal one. Once the Church has finished their examination.”
“Normal, he says.” Joachim scoffed. “Your demon passport isn't normal enough, halfbreed?”
“That's... not what I meant. You know that is not what I meant.” Adrian replied defensively. “Am I allowed to go take a walk, or is that verboten? I need to think some things over and I can't do that under the same roof as the guy who just gave me a massive headache.”
“Ask the Rabbit. He's your boss today.” The Vampyre reminded the younger demon. “But if it helps you decide, pretty little pet, I will know where the halfbreed is at all times. He will be safe.”
“The last time I was in charge of another adult was during a death march to defeat Dracula. I don't care to be any one's leader ever again. Do what you need to do, Adrian. Whatever eases your mind.” Trevor insisted. “It's perfectly fine, so long as you stay safe and come back to me.”
“Well then, what are you going to do with your time, sweet pet?” The hopeful demon inquired, watching Adrian throw on both the dark blue leather coat and step into the boots belonging to Joachim, apparently since they were conveniently by the door. “Please say it's something that I can assist with.”
Trevor was having some difficulty paying attention to the Vampyre all of a sudden. There was something about the sight of Adrian in Joachim's outerwear that immediately occupied a large part of Trevor's attention. Perhaps it was just that the smartly cut leather accentuated the Dhampyre's masculine shape in all the right ways. Or perhaps it was because such a style and material that flirted with danger and intrigue was out of character for the normally polished and approachable Adrian, who could say? Or just that the size difference between the two demons left the coat tight across Adrian's chest. What the Hunter could confirm was that watching Adrian zip the midnight blue leather up and snapping lapel buttons was stirring a very primal urge, that unless Adrian was going to turn around right then and tell him everything was in working order again, he was going to have to take care of himself. Like, right now. It was just that primal a reaction.
With a coy grin, he let the remaining demon down with a single word. “Showering.”
“Oh, I could help with that plenty, if you'll let me.”
“I will keep that in mind for the future plans and goals.” He replied with a laugh, all but running off to the washroom, but turning to catch the Vampyre's contemplative look with a flirtatious tilt of his head that was entirely on purpose. “Hey, you were the one who said I could be very convincing.” Of course he shut the door before speculative ideation turned into anything more than that.
Clothing that could not come off fast enough was discarded by the washing machine so that a very aroused and morally weak man could step under the steamy spray of the shower to take himself in hand. In his mind he pictured that tantalizingly snug blue leather enclosing broad shoulders and a tapered torso, his ears hearing the echoes of the creaking slow zipper securing Adrian inside. Snap, snap. Lapels and the singular button along the bottom of the coat. Snap. Secret gold in white-silver hair spilling over the back with a soft swish. The sound of that lazy zip securing the vision of a marble statue kind of body playing over and over to blood-hastening delight. Why didn't Adrian own a coat that hugged his masculine frame like that? Should Trevor suggest the man get one, or would that be too obvious? Would Adrian be offended that his wearing Joachim's clothes had put the Hunter in such a state? Would he still be jealous and touchy about it if Trevor could show Adrian how much he appreciated the svelte style on the Dhampyre?
Hands working just how he liked to be touched frustratingly did not seem to be enough, this time. It was peculiar, considering he was overwhelmingly aroused, very in tune with what his body liked, and the mental stimulation was an exceptionally pleasing image to hold onto. The sense of lacking a very critical component soon started to grow beyond mere frustration, moving into desperation's territory. Why couldn't he finish up and get over this fixation on the leather-clad Adrian? Why couldn't he stop imagining what Adrian's muscles would feel like thorough the coat, pushing him down and climbing on top?
I can't possibly... Do I really..? Trevor inhaled sharply, hands freezing in place as he came to terms with a whole new kind of desire. Being honest with himself, it hadn't been bad at all. Not by a long shot. But it had been a decision he'd agonized over and committed to engage in because, at the time, he believed it was then or never, and perhaps a lifetime of wondering what would have happened had he just had the courage in that moment? He had still believed himself in the fifteenth century, and actively choosing to selfishly satisfy a curiosity of what could have been with Adrian, by betraying a woman he'd loved. At the time, he could not have possibly foresaw that what he believed was a could have been was what potentially, currently, was.
I do actually... Want this. The realization was double-edged. It was wrong to hold people to different standards, but it just seemed scandalous to admit he wanted what he wanted, when he was perfectly fine with Adrian desiring and asking as much from him. Alone, but feeling exposed, his stilled hand began to explore the terrain of his body, both the usual and now less usual spots. Bracing himself against the tiled wall, he leaned forward, blushing, and mindful of claws, reached behind with a hand still slick from his manhood to breach a place he'd never touched outside of bathing before.
Along with the physical sensations came the guilt and shame of what he was doing. It didn't matter that Adrian had touched him here times before. Or that he had asked Adrian to do even more that one time, thinking it his first and last chance to know. It did not matter that while his recollection of the night he tried to end his life was vague, he felt as if he may have let Adrian do it again as a parting gift. Right here and now, he wasn't misguided and working under a false assumption, nor was he committed to shoving on this mortal coil any time soon. All he could admit to was the truth, being that Trevor Christopher Belmont was writhing up against a cool tile wall, trying to fuck himself with his own fingers, fantasizing about a tall attractive Dhampyre in a tight dark blue leather coat. And for some reason, he felt like he was not allowed to wish his fingers were something thicker, longer, hotter, and wetter.
This isn't going to work. There was an actual moan that escaped his lips, and not one of pleasure. It is not enough. I can't fucking reach far enough to make it work. It wasn't fair. Had he not already debased himself? Could the universe at least see fit to grant a man the opportunity to finish what he'd desperately started? Sliding down to sit in the shower stall, he hit the back of his head a few times on the tile, wincing but feeling like he deserved another two or three. This isn't enough... I want Adrian to... Oh, who am I kidding, I need him to fuck me. I have never wanted anything as much as I want him to fuck me right now. While wearing that coat.
Abandoning the futility of the endeavour, he climbed back to his feet and washed methodically in cold water, although there was not enough soap in the world to cleanse him of the guilt he felt for having such womanly desires. To wish such an epitome of masculinity, one much more defined and admirable than his own lacking form especially, to fall over him and dominate? Wanting to be held down and pushed into? There had to be something wrong with him. Something fundamentally off that would explain why he was all the things a man was not supposed to be. If that mystery could be solved, perhaps it would help explain why all the people he got along with seemed to be perverts as well.
Not yet ready to leave with the shame he'd created in the small humid room and needing to warm back up from the arctic waters required to calm his lust, Trevor filled the tub with hotter water than probably healthy, and a mixture of the fragrant salts he found in the cabinet. The label said it was precisely for this, soaking. It would soften your skin and leave a pleasant aroma. It sounded like just the thing Trevor needed to distract from his failure to work out the leather-clad Adrian issue on his own. Besides, he was fairly certain Adrian had told him this was the bathing habit of the Orient. Washing ones body and then purifying with clean skin in a hot soak. Surely he could use some purifying after that entire failed and shameful production.
Heat and tingling burns felt perversely pleasurable, as he sat with knees curled up to his chest and tried to not recall all the amorous thoughts that had placed him in this predicament. Instead he turned the passport over in his mind, wondering how people would treat him if he was masquerading as a demon. Adrian obviously wasn't keen on the idea, seeing as how he'd yet to hear the Dhampyre return from the calming walk. It might be enlightening to see how Adrian was treated every day of his early life if he could walk a few steps in the Dhampyre's shoes. Or would it really be comparable? Were demons accepted better in the year 2037? He'd not actually asked what life was like for the Adrians of this era. Did that make him a poor friend? It... Probably did.
Sinking below the water, eyes shut and breath held, the distant muffle of the world couldn't touch him. Under here everything was fine. He was a more thoughtful friend and better companion here. Strange desires and poor excuses for men were fine too. Hell, it was his fantasy, maybe feminine men were celebrated here as the gold standard. You know what else? Attractive tall demons wore tight leather all the time in this fantasy water world.
His lungs were burning from lack of oxygen but he wasn't yet ready to go back up and face reality. The burn and physiological reaction to intentionally drowning oneself was unpleasant and ramping up, but still... He wasn't ready for the things up there. Everything seemed out to get him in one way or the other. And if it wasn't an outside force, it was instead through self sabotage. Being a babe in the womb was way easier. Babes were free from sins and expectations. Maybe he should pop out to take a breath, though? Even just one?
Shocked and with a surprised cry wrenched free, seeing as how Trevor was not usually so easy to sneak up upon, Joachim hauled him out of the water until he was back in a sitting position, head above the waterline. Sharp eyes more smoke than silver peering harshly at him do not match the affable smile fixed to bloodless lips, and simply by nature of being so attuned with Joachim's aura, Trevor can feel the suspicion and concern the Vampyre is trying to hide from him.
“Do you know what adrenal gland secretions are?” Rich velvety tone that's been dragged through sandpaper drips down Trevor's body as surely as the rivulets of water are, as Joachim educated him on the sudden topic. “It's a part of biochemistry. Every emotion you feel and every response you have to stimuli, pleasant or otherwise, triggers these little changes in your system. Increasing you blood flow, or heightening your attention. Stress is a very easy scent to pick up for predatory demons. The adrenal gland produces a lot of chemicals to help you when facing stress, fear and danger. Yours is stinking up the place.”
Trevor opened his mouth to apologize, but he was still a little stricken by the sudden interruption, and wary about saying the wrong thing. Joachim didn't like when he apologized for things outside his control. Could this be considered one of those things..?
“You may not be aware, but I have also been told about your attempt at a self-realized mortality event. So you will forgive me for this intrusion as I err on the side of caution, I hope.”
Finding his voice he tilted his head and asked, bewildered. “Self-realized... What was that?” Letting out only a weak little 'Oh' when the Vampyre responded by plucking his left arm from the depths and running a delicate line down the freshest of his scars with a clawed fingertip. Trevor instinctively pulled his arm back to try and hide the suicide attempt, guts twisting with shame over the one line amongst many that he was the cause of. “...I will not be doing that again. There is no need to be so... Concerned. It was a stupid mistake.”
The Vampyre pulled his arm back and continued to run feather touches down the scar, his mouth turning up at a corner as he played with the raised reddish flesh. “This was desperation. You are not at fault for acts of desperation, so do not hang your head so low about the decision you made in the moment of agony.”
Trevor had no desire to debate anything related to that night he could scarcely recall the details of. His low opinion of himself and his actions were not likely to change, so he said nothing. Joachim's indigo coloured essence was gliding along his own, so as a peace offering he relaxed into it, an act so second nature at this point, it required no thought at all to enmesh their beings. In the Vampyre he could pick up a still active concern for his safety, and that stung. A grown man, if a poor one, being minded and considered like a clumsy child was shameful, and there were only his actions to blame for it. Joachim's energy was almost apologetic, attempting to soothe and appease his bruised ego, but with a jovial touch to it, in so far as Trevor could interpret. Half gentle teasing, but the other half?
Well... Without skirting the truth, it felt... Loving. If the exact emotion needed to be pinned down and labelled. Since his epiphany the other night, Trevor had become aware of just how lovingly every impression off Joachim was coloured... It was nice to be cared for. To be worried about. Even when it wasn't deserved and even wasted on a person like Trevor Belmont. This care Joachim had for him seemed like it would be much better spent on poor suffering Adrian. The Vampyre's care was definitely wasted on a depraved miscreant like Trevor Belmont, as thinking about Joachim and Adrian together just then flushed his features, he realized with deep embarrassment. Two tall masculine demons in leather. An Olympian god made flesh meeting a Muse, graceful and guile. Different but the same. What must it look like if they fell into one another? Then he bloody well went an imagined it!
At first the fantasy version of Adrian was overtaken, flashing defiant gold eyes and snarling teeth as building pleasure broke down his refined castle gates and burned away haughty airs. That seemed the natural result based upon this demon hierarchy he'd been taught, but then Trevor had another passing thought that upended that conclusion. A memory of pushing Joachim down on Adrian's office chair and climbing on top changed the whole fantasy. Joachim had offered no resistance back then, allowing Trevor to place him exactly where the Hunter needed him to be. It stood to reason then, as was playing out in his lascivious and sinful mind, that Joachim would submit to Adrian's whims just the same. Whatever Adrian needed him to be, the Vampyre would become. Adrian would delight in that too, Trevor knew from experience.
There is something seriously wrong with you, Trevor Belmont! He's just staring at me. I hope he doesn't ask about my heart beating out of my chest. I don't want to talk about wandering demon thoughts or risk having to tell him I think he'd be on the receiving end of such a copulation. Is this really the stupid coat's fault or am I really so useless and hopeless? He bemoaned, turning his head away from the Vampyre, but knowing it was too late to hide anything. He probably reeked of lustful thoughts too. Plus his aura's and Joachim's were entwined. The demon was reading him like an open book. Is it too late to stop myself from wondering if he'd receive me in that fashion? Oh no, it is too late! Why am I even contemplating that right now!? “I'll keep my head above the water from now on. I promise.” His smile was weak, pitiful and defeated, and the promise was not so convincing as to satisfy the demon enough to leave him to it.
The Vampyre studied him with pursed, but upturned lips, evidently finding great swaths of amusement in his wandering thoughts and the scents and emotions they brought to the surface. “You know...” Ragged but once again silver voice hedged as a pale hand reached out to pet Trevor's head and ply limp plastered brown hair between alabaster fingers. “Our little kitty-cat should regain his vision by tomorrow at the latest, given the clarity of his corneas earlier. I can smell that too, you know. Regrowth.” With a quirk of his lips, he continued conversationally. “Kitten does have a keen eye for beauty, especially when combined with hidden potential. This mane of yours is exactly the kind of beauty Kitten gravitates towards. There is much potential for it to shine if only you cared to properly see to it.”
I don't want to talk about my dull boring hair either. I don't need the reminder that I am surrounded by beautiful, attractive people. Attractive people I can't seem to cease shamefully picturing rutting against one another all while I am this despicable hot mess!
“Hmm... It seems you have no intention of following through on any upkeep, given how flatly your mood has just fallen at the mere suggestion. I suppose that leaves me no other choice but to invest my own time.” All at once ghostly tendrils fetched a small bottle with the words elixir legible from Trevor's angle, while pulling Trevor against the slanted back of the tub. Joachim now with pant legs rolled above his calves, hopped onto the edge of the bathtub, trapping Trevor between his knees in order to attack his tresses with playful hands.
“It is just hair.” Trevor mumbled hoping to deflect any focus the Vampyre may still have on his telling aura or scent, still embarrassed and flushed by his overactive imagination. “I have no idea why both Adrian and now yourself are so obsessed with the mop sitting on my head.”
“It is not a waste or a fault to encourage potential.” Joachim stated confidently. “You've come quite far these past few weeks with your practice because I have consistently encouraged you to explore your talents. What exactly is the difference here? Do you discount your hair simply because it is a cosmetic potential? Perhaps it is not necessary to your continued survival, yes, but have you evaluated why are you resigned to being the average version of yourself when you could so easily be the best?”
“I disagree that having or lacking pretty hair has any effect on my character.” Trevor rebuffed in a low voice, hands still covering his wilting arousal.
“I will agree that many do not think a consideration for the state on one's locks beyond cleanliness is anything other than superficial and trite. Most stop at that conclusion and abandon their exploration of the topic. However, I know for a fact that you are not just a pretty face, Belle Lapin, so you will examine what I have said more deeply. Tell me, what is such a careful attention to one's appearance indicative of?”
“Vanity.”
“Pride, Bunny.” Joachim corrected. “Pride in oneself is not vanity. Caring for your body and it's presentation is not frivolous either. Quite the opposite. A man who has taken time to care for himself is vastly more prepared to provide care for others. By nature, human or demon, we are all programmed in some fashion to respond more positively to well groomed and hygienic individuals, allowing for cultural and species-specific differences on what that exact presentation entails, of course. A man with a quiet pride, shown by self-care and respect for his worth in both his appearance and actions is quite irresistible, as well.”
“I don't believe I want to be that magnetic. Being wholly resistible has suited me just fine so far.”
“Oh, Bunny.” Joachim mused. “All truth to what I am telling you can be easily found just by taking a closer look at Kitten. Do you not agree that his confidence, self-respect, and assurance in his own worth shines brightly through his prideful appearance? His tailored suits and polished shoes compliment his meticulous hair and pleasant scent. I can feel in your aura how strongly you are pushing against me on this topic, but try to look past the surface. You no doubt are convinced you love Kitten for his character. His bravery. His tenacity. Passionate ideals tempered by a limitless compassion. His character truly is worthy of admiration. But why do you not think his appearance has anything to do with that? Would he be so confident if others did not look at him and immediately see a man of authority? Would he carry himself so assuredly if he were frumpy and dishevelled? His pride and care in his appearance is the very groundwork for the man he has become. It all started with wanting to be the best version of himself he could be.” The Vampyre reached out to tip Trevor's head back so that they were locking eyes when he asked a very poignant question. “The overall presence of this best version of Kitten won your heart, Little One. Why does it seem to me as if you don't believe he deserves the same from you?”
I don't believe Adrian deserves... A pretty version of me? “What do you mean, Joachim?”
“Bunny, think. I have already given you what you need to find the answer.”
Trevor pulled free of the Vampyre's hold and stared at the water rippling in the bathtub from every one of the demon's fidgets, to ruminate over this little test he'd just been given. Was he really not seeing the value of vanity, if there really was any, as Joachim was suggesting? Perhaps this was a case of different morals for different worlds. The one Trevor had been raised in had always instilled that pride in superficiality was wrong. Looks faded with age, but not who you were as a person... But then... Could the person you grew to be really be influenced by clean clothes and glossy hair to the point it made you bolder or braver? That is what Joachim seemed to be saying, and it was true that Adrian's presence alone spoke volumes about the man without need for anything else... But then, if there was true value in pride, he also had to accept that Joachim had also stated that Trevor was not exactly... Giving Adrian his best...
“All right...” The Hunter hugged his knees and took a stab at answering. “So you believe that I should start showing more care and respect for myself. Starting with having nicer hair.”
“Yes. Only because you could have such beautiful locks of chestnut, you have just been stubbornly choosing to ignore it's potential. Do you not believe Kitten would be more pleased to see that you show you have respect and pride for your own worth and abilities? You have been walking around this little garden home for weeks now, carrying a sense that you are unworthy of taking up the small space in a small box you do inhabit. You've done this religiously all while ignoring the very basic steps you could have taken to change how yourself and others would perceive you. Such minor tweaks here and there and you just may find that you begin to feel less self-conscious standing next to the man you dearly admire and love. You don't have to be perfect, Pretty Rabbit. I am not, and let me assure you, Kitten is far below that bar as well. But you should be willing to become the authentic version of yourself while striving to achieve your potential, free of unnecessary shame and baggage. The only yardstick you should be measuring yourself against is your own, but please... Do measure often.”
“There are depths to you I could have never fathomed...” The Hunter remarked, properly stunned. Was it really possible for the friends and family he had right now to feel deserved one day down the line? If people looked at plain, boring, old Trevor Belmont and saw someone special, could he really stop feeling like a selfish cheat for clutching at Adrian's side? “You inferred all of that just from the lack of interest I had in how my damn hair looks.”
“I'm old. Spouting wisdom comes with advanced age. You will see when you're sitting where I currently am.”
Reaching back to grab the bottle of exotic smelling oils, he studied the mixture intently, turning over the Vampyre's poignant yet oddly specific sudden focus on Trevor's commitment to be a better partner for Adrian, and relented. “What is this and what am I supposed to do with it, so I can make a small effort towards being a better version of myself?”
There had to be something more to Joachim's sudden interest, right? Perhaps spurred on by the unspoken transgression of violence from earlier? Trevor frowned at the bottle in his hands and thought of his metaphysical fingers scraping against what he visualized as a large metaphysical metal double door Joachim was firmly trying to keep him out of. The two demons had gotten into some kind of disagreement, as Adrian would insist, and for some reason the elder had let the younger rearrange the landscape of his face. Resolved not to pry into the actual fight itself or not, Trevor could not help but be curious as to the aftermath and lingering effects on both demons. One grovelling, morose, and guilt-ridden, the other fixing a smiling mask in place and busying himself trying to improve Trevor's tumultuous relationship and self-esteem.
My relationship though..? Or Adrian's? The affection and love the Hunter had felt for the Dhampyre in their Vampyre caretaker was the most earnest thing about the other demon. There had to be another angle. Joachim himself had stated earlier that there was nothing wrong or selfish with having an agenda even when acting with compassion. Do you mean to make Adrian happy through poking and prodding me... Because you can't? You really can't, Joachim, or is it because you've just been lead to believe you are lacking what he wants?
“Hair Elixir. It will help fill in your split ends and balance your scalp. We're going to work it through starting from the tips and then let it absorb in for a spell.”
“So this will take a while, it sounds.” Trevor sighed, certain he'd been onto something when Joachim's voice startled him back to the present. But the lingering impression was strong. The concept of what constituted a demon marriage settled to the forefront, and Trevor thought about that fiercely guarded metal door. Definitely, he was on the correct path to solving this. A fight where the stronger demon let the weaker off the hook so easily. A friendship where the older gave nearly everything to the younger, who took as if it was expected to be given. A union, where the stronger demon let the other carry on oblivious to the fact the weaker should have to consider the wants and needs of their other half. Now suddenly there was this urgent fixation on making the younger demon's chosen pet a more fulfilling partner? Coincidence? Hardly. “That's fine. Get in, let's do this.” Trevor agreed, a dawning revelation curling his lips.
I believe you've tipped your hand, Vampyre. You may be correct that wisdom grows with age, but it sure as hell doesn't mean that ancient demons can't stand to learn a thing or two themselves from the whelps. The Hunter had been convinced by their conversation to give pride a trial run in order to see if pretending to be more admirable would change his reality. However, there were warnings about too much of a good thing for various good reasons. It was possible pride in oneself and their ways could be valued so much, it crowded out the other open possibilities. It was always possible one's pride in their own methods blinded them from a more satisfying path.
“I-I'm sorry. What do you mean, get in?” Palpable nervousness stemming from an ancient deadly demon was quite the juxtaposition to behold.
“What do you think? I'm already softening my skin with this bath salt and now you've convinced me to take care of my greasy hair on top of it. But it's going to be really awkward being the only naked guy here. So you should just get in and work on being the best, softest skinned version of yourself as well. Even the playing field.” The very suggestion actually seemed to have left the Vampyre speechless. For some reason, Trevor felt like accomplishing such a feat was an esteemed badge of honour. “Oh, what's wrong? I thought you said you could help me plenty earlier.”
“W-well. I-I mean.”
Maybe Trevor could get used to scandalized ancient demons, he thought, watching the ancient demon in question jump to his feet to regard the smaller man with wide eyes. “Don't you want to have pretty skin and hair as well? Don't be a hypocrite and get in.”
“It's going to be a bit of a squeeze in there for two. Additionally, I fail to see how logically two naked guys in a tub is any less awkward than one.” Joachim reasoned hesitantly. The energy in his aura skittered across the top of Trevor's before something clamped down on it. “There is also the truth that Kitten would very much not approve to keep in mind.”
“Kitten isn't here.” Trevor countered. “But if he were, I would tell him to get in as well. Being clothed in this situation in an unfair power advantage. Meet me on equal terms or get out.”
Besides, this is the whole point. We're going to try and get to the bottom of the Kitten problem for you.
“Kitten wouldn't hesitate to climb into the bath with you, Little One. Perhaps you should just wait for him to return. He's still flying around trying to burn off his pent up energy and guilt, but I'm sure he'll tire himself out before morning.”
“Please don't think I am suggesting anything more than a soak. All this is, is a mutually beneficial bit of pampering... And since you have seen fit to go well out of your way to help me with my dilemma, perhaps there is some light I can shed to help you with yours.”
“M-my dilemma?” Now Trevor had the Vampyre hooked.
“Yes.” Nodding, the Hunter scooted forward to make room and laid out his rules of engagement. “Get in and we can talk about it. Or get out and leave me and my greasy hair be.”
“You are... A very curious creature, Trevor Belmont.” Hesitation and fidgeting ensued but eventually borrowed clothes were tossed over next to the pile Trevor's had found themselves in before the sounds of the demon settling into the water behind him could be heard. One long leg stayed bent at the knee, but the other stretched out until toes were skirting the edge of the other side of the tub. Joachim wet his own hair in preparation for the elixir to be worked in, and started at the tips, as he'd previously said he would. The Hunter did not stare overtly, nor did he let his eyes wander over the toned, lithe landscape out of mutual respect. “All shy smiles and innocent blushes in one stride and in the next you are a minx coaxing me into a scenario certain to kick off another of Adrian's temper tantrums. The halfbreed is going to smell me all over you, just so you know. He does hate it.”
“That's what we're going to talk about, actually.” Satisfied that now that he'd gotten his way, and Joachim had literally nowhere to go and not even the scrap of small clothes to hide behind, Trevor revealed which dilemma he was seeking to assist with. He waited for clawed hands, now finished with their own tresses, begin to work through his own, tips to root, before he slid back into place, more or less laying against the lean chest behind him. In his mind, his back was also leaning against the large metal doors, letting more and more of his weight press against the shuttered entrance, hoping he'd be able to crack it open for a peek inside. Joachim's aura was curious, but a touch uneasy, and that was to be expected. “You've been teaching me your demon ways and customs under the guise of helping me for my own piece of mind, but there has been a clear personal goal of yours in sight, correct? You wanted me to know how to understand and love Adrian as a demon, because he is more than human. It is important to you that his heritage is not forgotten or pushed aside in favour of the human concepts of normality in life and love.”
“Of course, Bunny. If you are here for the long haul, you would do well to keep that side of him in mind as you step forward at his side.”
“That is a reasonable request. Adrian is a noble demi-demon, and loving him does mean loving all aspects of what makes that man who he is.” Trevor readily agreed. “Joachim, you are both exceptionally sharp as you've demonstrated numerous times, and a loyal companion... Your commitment to Adrian you have also demonstrated with every action I have seen you take. Given that you are the demon guiding me through the practice of communicating as a Desire demon is meant to, you must be aware that I have seen your love? That love you have... for Adrian. The shape of it is quite telling and vast.”
“Of course I love my dear pet, Little One. I have said as much.”
“Pure demon love, I believe was the term given.” Trevor chuckled softly. “However, I think you are not telling me the whole truth. I think you are not telling yourself the whole truth either. Certainly, you are not telling our Kitty anything, and I believe that is what the problem is.” His energy pushed against the bulwark, and for just a second, a crack down the middle split wide, and Trevor could see the blackness. The single second was all he needed. He'd seen it. The flecks of tarnished gold chain leading off into the vortex where something certainly lay trapped and hidden. That single second was all he needed to proceed confidently. “You have said I am a curious creature, but perhaps it would help you if you took the time to look in a mirror for once.”
“Wh-whatever could you mean by that?” The Vampyre ventured in a stilted, unusual tone. The metaphysical hands holding the door shut were wavering, betraying Joachim's resolve.
“You are so clever and wise, Joachim. It just does not make logical sense to me that you would insist I keep Adrian's demon heritage in mind all while you wilfully ignore his human, and then pretend it's entirely his fault for missing your signals.”
“You will explain yourself and this tangent of yours, Little One.”
“With pleasure. You are obscuring your love, Joachim, and you are not meeting him as an equal. Adrian is never going to realize the depths of your affection for him when in every instance that surfaces, you needle him about a facet of his being he was born with and cannot change.”
“You are losing me, Bunny. Speak plainly, as evidently I am not as sharp as you believe me to be.”
“All right, there is more than one way to skin a warg...These neighbours of yours in this village we are soon to be returning to... You had such a derogatory term for them you were endeavouring to refrain from using. What was that?”
“The mongrels? They are flea-ridden Beastmen...” Joachim snapped automatically before Trevor could here him inhale deeply and hiss the corrected term. “Manbeasts. They are Manbeasts... Not mongrels.”
“So you are capable of being respectful to your neighbours after all, but not to the man whose place is at your side? That doesn't seem very logical to me.” Trevor chanced a look over his shoulder, spying the troubled confusion on the Vampyre's face, and pressed onward. “Adrian is a Dhampyre, Joachim. A demi-demon, if you require another civil term to use. Calling him a halfbreed every time he displeases you is derogatory and cruel. Your choice of words make it seem as if you believe there is an inherent flaw within him simply by nature of his birth. Why should he be willing to open up to you in this intimate manner you seek when your callousness cuts so deep? You know he grew up scorned from both sides, I imagine? From what he told me... It sounded terribly lonely.”
“...I believe I may have preferred you as a mute, Bunny.” The Vampyre murmured, still troubled.
“Do not dodge the question. Why can't you stop discounting his human side in your assessments of him, his actions and most importantly, his feelings?” Trevor wondered out loud. “It feels to me, if I am reading your energy correctly, that this all stems from some fear of yours that he over relies on his human side so much, he risks abandoning his demon. That is something you believe would sever your tie to him. Am I on the mark?” A flinch of energy bucked up against his own, if there ever was one. “That is a silly fear to have, Joachim. Adrian cannot chose one side or the other. He is a Dhampyre. Every choice and every action he takes is a Dhampyre's. You can't praise only the Dhampyre decisions that align more with what you think acceptable for a demon. For that matter, what even is considered acceptable for a human or a demon? Who gets to decide these things?”
“We are all products of our upbringing, Little One... I will concede that you are making some valid points.” The Vampyre stated still in that low voice. “Kitten has always done things that mystify me. When he does not act as a Desire demon should... How I have been raised to believe they should, allow me to stress... I... Simply do not know what to make of him. Everything is complicated with Adrian when it could comparatively be so simple for me. He has never been more baffling to me as he is of late, however. Not in the centuries my pet has been leashed.”
“Perhaps it is because you are only considering his motives through the eyes of a demon?” Trevor suggested. “You made a comment earlier that you are aware that what we are doing right now – innocently talking in a bath without any ulterior motives – would be enough to make Adrian angry. So you have the capacity to grasp human morality and correctly recognize that he would be jealous to find us laying nude next to each other in this tub. He would be jealous, needlessly so, because Adrian is aware that he is in love with me, as I am certain he is also aware I have quite the growing affection towards you. You can understand why perceiving a lover to be falling for another would be hurtful. Why it would make one jealous and angry, perhaps even irrationally and violently so. For demons, as you've explained, sex is just sex. Acts of lust and entertainment are wholly removed from the concept of pure demon love. For humans, sex can be just as casual. That concept is not uniquely demon. But for Adrian, sex is never just sex once emotions are involved. Demon or not, you are able to recognize that, and you would have avoided a situation that could set Adrian up to believe such a thing is happening had I not been so... Convincing, as you've said I am.”
“I understand the various points of what you are telling me, Trevor... I am just not certain why you are saying them, nor how they all fit together. You will elaborate, I hope.”
“In my lifetime, I have lusted after my fair share of pretty women, but I have only actively chosen two people to take to my bedchambers. Both of these people touched my heart, and I trusted them to not hurt me while it was in their hands. Sex is not just sex for me, either. It has never been, and I do not believe it ever will.” The brunette hummed and sighed, resting his full weight against the body curled around him. With everything now laid out, he just had to ask the magick question. “Do you want to fuck Adrian, Joachim?”
The sputtering hack behind him jostled the bathwater, but after the Vampyre gathered himself, he choked out a bewildered reply. “Has the heat addled your better senses, Bunny? Kitten and I do... We do not have that kind of relationship.”
“So you were not lying to Yoko when she asked after the fact back in that car ride, and truly in all this time you've never wanted him that way? You have never once thought about his hands or his tongue or even just his gaze on your body? That's quite interesting when it's so obvious you desire him in every other way, just as it's obvious that you desire me in a physical capacity, at least. I have not read your signals incorrectly; you do actually want to fuck me, right, Joachim?”
“I do not need that to prove anything about my love for Kitten.” Joachim responded tersely. “As for you, you sultry little fox, you're the one whose kept up perfuming the air with your own lust at every opportunity. There is not a demon around for miles who wouldn't want to fuck, devour or consume you whole. Be gracious that I have some self control and a delicate appetite! My presence here has been keeping you off the butchers block.”
“Have I?” Trevor couldn't help but laugh at the revelation. It was true that he had been painfully aroused practically daily waiting for Adrian to wake, and the Dhampyre's current limp state was not helping to relieve him of it, but to hear out loud how he was being observed by another that could smell his repeated and near constant arousal..? At this point, what else could he do but laugh? “It can't be helped, I suppose. Every day in this new world I realize how tightly chained I was back in my old life. There are a lot of things I thought I could never get away with that I am starting to believe are... Actually possible. Which is another point I wanted to discuss while helping you with your Kitten dilemma, Joachim, but let's focus on what you've just confessed right now.” Reigning in his laughter, he took a calming breath, hoping he sounded as serious as the topic he was about to broach required. “You do not need to fuck Adrian to prove anything about how much you love him. Demon love is removed from that. But you do love him, and desire that he be aware enough to recognize his own affection towards you and love you back with just as much devotion. So you need to understand that Adrian will need to fuck you if he's going to love you the same way he loves me. His need to connect to his lover are not just via the metaphysical. Adrian requires that carnal touch. In short, he needs to make love.”
“How is it you can propose such a thing so casually? This is the same half–” The pause to correct was a good sign. “This is the same Dhampyre that you are waiting to climb on top of the second his dick is functional again. It sounds as if you are tossing one of only two people you've chosen to allow in your bedchambers at me. Where is your jealousy, Bunny? Your possessiveness?”
“Unlike Adrian, I am not oblivious, Joachim. I have two eyes, and they work very well... I saw it, back in the cave. When we rescued Adrian from that horrible place. He was blind, deaf, beaten, dying... He was terrified and weak... Seeking comfort and security. He sought out the source that gave him that comfort and safety.” Trevor swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. It was a painful thought that had kept rattling around in his mind as he wallowed in his own misery and guilt before the sarcophagus. “I saw Adrian choose you... I was there, he'd climbed right out of my sweater to attack the Witch... But when it was all over and he was left frightened and needed to feel protected and safe, he went to you, Joachim.” It was the truth Trevor had thought about near every day since then. It was a large part of why he struggled, wanting to leave and not trouble Adrian, but loving him too much to be the better person and do it.
“You are putting too much emphasis on the delusions of an injured demon. For all you know, he thought I was you.”
“He didn't.” Trevor rejected the easy out. “I'm not sure what it means exactly... I know he loves me. But I know he loves you too, if he just doesn't yet realize to what capacity. And I believe that is because of what we've already discussed. Your callous disregard for half his heritage. Maybe if he felt as safe with you in regards to his emotions as he does with his physical body, he would be able to look closer and see. If you just accepted not what you want him to be, but what he is. So now... Here we are with our dilemmas. I cannot leave Adrian, even though I feel unworthy of his complete devotion towards me. Adrian will never consider loving you in the manner he romantically loves, unless you are able prove you can accept that combined human aspect to his demon love, and his Dhampyre being, no matter how uncharacteristically demon they may become.”
“...You have a proposal.”
“Yes...” Trevor confirmed, in his mind pushing forcefully against the metal doors. Joachim was straining to keep him out, but weakening by the second. “Please. Let me in, Joachim. I need to see you... All of you... Before I can commit to what I am about to suggest.”
“I... It's not... I am not... You simply do not understand.” The Vampyre struggled, at a loss for words that was entirely unsettling for such an articulate creature. “Each time Kitten has seen that part of me... He runs. Without fail. Further and further away.”
“I am not Kitten... I am your pretty Rabbit. Won't you trust me to take a look and decide for myself how frightening you are?”
It happened slowly, the pressure against the doors relenting. Trevor, visual as he was, saw the metal groan and swing inwards, yawning wide open to reveal that fathomless blackness. In his mind, he stood before it, feeling the bleakness and the consuming void of... nothing. It was understandable that such a void would frighten Adrian or anyone. Trevor himself felt the fear of losing himself inside it. But then he remembered the chain. Buried under soot so that only a stray gleaming fleck of colour could be distinguished from the blackness. While real gold did not corrode, this metaphysical chain was eaten up and tarnished, barely hanging together. Trevor steeled his nerves and stepped inside the chasm, kicking up debris until he found the lifeline, and grasped it firmly. The chain had to lead somewhere, right? So he followed it, lost in his own mind at the same time he was lost within the depths of Joachim, not seeing anything with his eyes but what the energy he felt translated into images he could understand. Long and far he sunk into the void, wondering when if ever the bottom would be reached. It was... Frightening. The emptiness oppressive... There was a sense from Joachim that if he were to turn back and run, he'd be forgiven for it, and the offer was tempting.
Trevor stayed the course, however. The fragile chain always in hand, guiding him down, down, down. Free-falling in every sense but the literal definition until he hit a surface that would not give. The core. The chain was still there to guide him forward, so he followed slowly until at last it was found. The secret in the centre of the void. A form that was familiar but misshapen by the same corrosive neglect that had eaten the chain away until there was next to nothing salvageable. The form tried to recoil from his outward stretched hand, but Trevor had the sense it had been locked away here so long, it couldn't have run from him if it tried.
He wiped at the soot and dust, finding tarnished silver beneath forming a hollow, thin, misshapen thing. Heavy corroded chain, the very one that had lead him to where he stood, was strung about, barely keeping the ends of the silver together. Trevor studied it for a long time... A pitiful sight, for sure. It was a miserable morose broken thing... But it was still standing. That was both impressive and uplifting in the face of so much blackened bleakness. Trevor felt it's anguish wash over him and nearly drown everything out. It was lonely... More lonely than anything had any right to be.
It's okay. He tried to soothe the quivering bundle before him. I also know what it is like wanting to be seen but having no one who will really look. It's okay... I see you.
A tremor underfoot echoed out into the void, fading. But a glimmer of hope had been carried out. Trevor had heard it, and he smiled.
I am not very good at this yet. I am not sure if I can help you to the degree you need. His apology was earnest, and he could only pray that it came across that way to the pitiful little thing before him that dared to hope once again. Trevor imagined he was pulling from his chest... His heart... A glowing blue thread. It was easier to picture his aura that way as he tried his best to reinforce the splitting pieces. A needle and thread repair was something he did not have to consciously think about doing, it was that natural. So his hands worked, threading the silver and gold with his blue stitch-work in a fashion he hoped would keep them together until he could come back with the owner of the gold to fix the original chain. At the very least, the silver wouldn't be so alone in there if he left a piece of himself inside. I hope this helps you, even a little.
In the physical world he'd already turned to face the Vampyre, reaching out to hold his head gently in both his hands. “I want to be admirable.” He whispered. “I want to be someone Adrian is proud to stand beside, and I don't want to keep on living as a person I dislike. I hope you will help me if you see me falling into old patterns... Remind me that I should be the best version of myself when I do?”
“Always.” A soft whisper promised him back.
“Then I will help you when you fall into old patterns. I see now that I had missed one crucial piece of the puzzle to understand your dilemma completely. It was brave of you to trust me enough that you could show me. You will both let him come to you, and accept Adrian in the state he comes to you, without the preconception that he is not demon enough in his method. You will let go of the fear that his humanity will distance himself from you unless you remind him every minute he is demon as well. I promise you, with time he will feel secure enough to drop his guard with you once he no longer expects to be attacked for simply being a Dhampyre. When he is comfortable enough to be brave, I will help him find his way back inside where I left my beacon. What happens between you both then, happens.”
“...But what if–“
Trevor placed a finger on his lips to shush. “What happens will happen. I intend to stay by his side. Adrian and I against everything else, that's what we decided. As I have mentioned... This new world is leading me to believe many impossibilities are in fact possibilities. I am not so opposed to creative living arrangements if things happen to turn out that way. I do have a fondness for you, and I think with time, I could fall in love you too, Joachim. It's not out of the question, if Adrian is of the same mind. But your demon notion of such arrangement would need to be challenged. I will share what is mine with Adrian happily, but no one else. If you are considering being ours, than you will be ours, and we will be yours. Exclusively. That's going to be a non-negotiable condition.”
“In this hypothetical scenario, explain to me how I have gone from being the Master to the pet?” The Vampyre asked out loud, utterly bewildered, aura wavering unsteadily under the overwhelming misery and loneliness that was resisting being shut behind the heavy doors once again.
Trevor reached out to help shutter them inside. It was a temporary need for now, and he hoped down the road the Vampyre could tear down the doors once and for all. “There won't be a need for demon hierarchy in this arrangement. We can all take turns being obedient pets and waggling tails” The Hunter explained softly. “But I need you to know something else...”
“You have been just full of surprises already, I can't imagine what else you have to say...”
Securing the tall iron doors, Trevor let his aura slip out, keeping it entwined with the Vampyre's because that was how it was comfortable to be these days, but also took care to glide it over his person soothingly. It was important to let the lonely demon before him that brighter days were on the horizon. “This misery that we're locking back up right now... Even if it turns out that Adrian's courage wanes and he cannot face it, I want you to know that it doesn't frighten me. You do not frighten me. We are friends, Joachim, and if we are only ever just friends for the rest of our lives, I will still come back here and find you in that. You are not lost... I see you.”
“You... Won't run away?”
“No... I'll stay for as long as you need me to, and a long time after you don't.”
That was the night Trevor Belmont learned it was possible for a full blooded Vampyre to cry.
Notes:
Still in the process of chopping mega chapters into more digestible bites. I have decided to take the cap off this one and moosh it with the next Chapter because I feel this one ends succinctly where it does.
It's an ongoing learning process, this first story of mine. Thanks to everyone for their patience and understanding as I fumble about!
Chapter 47: Leila
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ In Shadows
The unfortunate caveat about all finely constructed and detailed plans was that they only remained as such until it became time to put them into action. A life lived in the chaos of the moment, dynamically morphing and reshaping oneself to fit the current need had more than prepared her to think quickly with her feet in motion, and change tactics as many times as it took to walk out of a situation with her life in tact. Anything less than the willingness to give it all was nothing short of suicide, living as she always had on the fringes of civility and a society's whose dregs even wanted nothing to do with your kind. Keen eyes, quick wits, and a whole lot of moxie had always served her purposes, providing the necessary strength and determination to continuously keep planting one foot forward no matter the tragedy her steps took her from.
Was the latest tragedy passing by in the rear-view mirror truly so different? Death was never far behind a witch on a good day. The quiet ongoing genocide of her brothers and sisters was nothing new. This was the only kind of life a creature like she could keep if she wanted to remain free of agency and will. She knew this. She'd known this before she'd known how to read or do arithmetic. Known it during her first heart flutters as she set her eyes on a kind boy. Known it and then keenly more once her menarche paid visit, and then went on to be taught harshly, no less, that the only thing worse than an Arcanist in polite society's eyes, was an Arcanist who was also a woman. She knew it. That these things happened to people like her all the time. She knew it. Expected it. Prepared for it.
It still... This time really did ache just as fiercely as the first time her innocence burned down alongside a quiet village.
She lay on her side in a mess of bandages covering the right side of her face, her throat, arms and hands, staring at the prize twinkling in the dim candlelight. Such a devastating cost of life that gleaming little jewel was so guilty of. Old friends and new acquaintances all were committed to the cause and pledged their willingness to die for this cause... But how many of them actually believed that they would be called to pay up? All for what appearances gave, was nothing more than a tiny little red rock that would have been easily lost amongst baubles and kitsch of any curio shop. It was easy to imagine it rotting away in a forgotten drawer or cardboard box, rattling and jumbled amongst cheap costume jewellery. It was hardly remarkable enough upon first examination to catch a collector's eye. Even less so than the black stone secreted away with it. At least that one gave off an air of mystery. Both held extraordinary power concealed within that only one with very specific ancient knowledge would know to recognize. Knowledge she too had been given possession of.
These little rocks were the keys to her dreams. All the sacrifices and misery, piled atop the bodies, the price paid for the hopes and desires all the people gathered around her held dear. There was no other choice but to walk forward. One foot in front of the other. Simple. She'd done it all her long life. One foot, placed ahead, ground tested, the other to follow.
That's not true at all.
And it wasn't. This was not like all the other times before in the slightest, for the the personal cost she'd paid for this tragedy may have finally been too... Too...
“Esteffi.” It was a tired yet still feathery welcome voice that called out to her form behind the hung fabric partition in a communal tent. Such a thoughtful gesture by the owner of that kind voice to grant a grieving woman a semblance of privacy. “Alpha Rhysand's intermediary arrived some time ago accompanied by that frightening man. The one all in black... That one told Maja he would like to discuss the innate nature of red jasper and black carborundums, and their uses in alchemy.” With a long exhale, the friendly voice reasoned out loud. “I do not believe that the Beastman has understood what her companion is truly referring to, but we did separate them easily without overtly making our intentions known. The tribesman was hungry.”
“I was expecting our guest to arrive in good time. Not so soon, but... He was expected. Do not be alarmed by his uncanny nature and antiquated speech. That he deigns to speak our tongue at all is a great courtesy he'd granting.”
“So you will meet with him, I see.” Kindness pouring out on that soft tone, the woman on the other side of the partition gripped the thin fabric with her hand but did not yet pull it aside. “May I quickly change your dressings so that our High Priestess looks a touch less... Mangled?”
The softly spoken offer pulled at the corners of her lips in spite of the pit of grief she'd been wallowing inside. “Am I so dishevelled, dear Midge?” Her own voice sounded foreign, all rasp and cracks. It was nothing like the fine melody she recognized as her own. Another price paid, then. “You should be kinder with your words, my Sister. I'll have you know it was unpleasant enough simply to be the chewtoy of an enraged Dhampyre without you giving me your earnest assessment.”
Her friend's touch was as gentle as her nature, tending to the bandages. The old ones cut free or unravelled appeared to be bloody and grubby. She hadn't thought there was that much blood and infection from her wounds. “It seems that our fair Demon Prince got me better than I originally believed.”
“Yes. You're going to have to learn how to use more than your pretty face in the future, I'm afraid.” Midge pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Perhaps I should speak to the Alpha's messenger instead of you? You cannot appear weak before the Tribes, and they already smell the blood in our ranks.”
“Which would show me to be weaker, Midge? That a few bites and scratches from a demi-demon is enough to necessitate I require my own intermediary to fill in while I recover, or that of my bloodied and scarred self stepping back into the ring so soon? I believe demonstrating that not even a Dhampyre mangling my face and body is enough to force me to rest would be the better of these two options. Don't you?”
“I suppose so. So long as you can manage to both look and smell like you do not need to rest and recover. Alpha's can smell fear, stress, and sickness. The messenger Rhysand sent will no doubt be one of his best trackers and huntresses. She will smell your despair, Esteffi, and she will be quick to inform Rhysand something has gone astray.” Midge's bird-like features scrunched up as she firmed her tone and hardened her eyes. “I have a deviated septum and even I can smell the stink of despair off you. You must, forgive me the cliché, but pull yourself up by your bootstraps when you meet with that Tribe huntress and most importantly, that... Whatever he is.”
“Clichés are clichéd for a reason, Midge.” She replied, taking a deep measured breath in. Mind over matter. No matter the cost, she had to bear in mind that her Coven possessed the key to the Castle. That they'd lost a crucial component early on did not make her task impossible. The sacrifice had come willingly to her once before, and she was confident she could make him see reason all over again. He was not a permanent loss to her cause. He was not, but what of her dear missing... No. Her stacks of chips on the table was surely the highest, and nothing a few cuts and scratches could diminish in the grand scheme. If she just kept that in mind, that she held the Crimson Stone, there could be no stench of despair to her. She'd only lost... No. Do not think of my dear heart now and waver. “There is nothing to worry about, Midge.”
“I suppose not... Your whole appearance has changed before my very eyes. Now you look as if you are ready to use that Dhampyre as the chewtoy in return.”
“Believe it or not, I cannot find it in me to hold the Demon Prince in contempt. The man believes his cause and path are the right ones, and are we not all still standing here, Midge, because we have slain others to keep ourselves alive? I cannot fault that noble demon for fighting to save his own skin either. We have a battle a win, but our fair Prince has been waging a war for centuries.”
“Your logic escapes me, I am sorry to say.” Midge shook her head before reaching out to primp Estefania's hair. “I am livid, Esteffi. Those girls were shredded to bits and pieces. There is no denying that we've killed to protect our own when we must, but we do not go to such excess. We do not toy with our aggressors just because they see us as enemies. We have always acted as we need, but with compassion. That is why the sacrifice--”
“No... We do not do such things, do we? We follow a creed so we are worthy.” She replied, idly wondering if Midge's gentle fussing with her curls would still be taking place if her sister only knew what her dear Esteffi had gotten up to at the bottom of a subterranean lake. How desperation and greed-fuelled impatience had made the witch wanting a peaceful coexistence turn around and cage the world famous and much beloved Demon Prince in torturous conditions. All for a powerful, if unremarkable looking red stone. “Your anger is valid, Midge. Nor would I seek to dissuade you from expressing your pain. But I will ask you to recall the state we brought him into our temporary hideaway. Things did not get easier for him after I took him to my makeshift prison, Midge. I did not retrieve the stones from Ambassador Alucard Țepeș through the power of persuasion, I assure you. He suffered severely at my hands in my rush to secure these rocks, and so the death of those girls... The one who is responsible for their deaths... You are looking at the guilty party.”
“Esteffi...”
“Does that change your opinion of me, Sister?” The High Priestess stood to fetch a scrying mirror, but not to see anything beyond the face of the monster she had to become. That was yet another hefty sum to be added to her price paid. “Arden is gone as well thanks to me. I have never been apart from my dear heart, and now here I am. Heartless. These rocks...”
The face in the mirror was not familiar. Dark shadows and firm lines. There would be a lot of scars on her arms, hands, and throat once everything healed. But the one that made her laugh the most was the long red wound running down the right side of her face, from brow and well into her cheek. It was nearly a perfect mirror image of the scar on that compassionate wonderful man's face. They truly were two halves now, but of course that sweet smiling man would always be the better.
She laughed the whole way there to meet with the man in black who'd first told her about the stones.
*****
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Whatever else could it be but a building tension headache? Neck and shoulders bunching up of their own volition no doubt a contributing, if not the outright cause of the vicious vice around around his poor throbbing skull. Out in the blustery arctic air he flipped through various emails, confirmations, receipts – hard as these all were to focus upon with a thin film still on his eyes and the wind to contend with – really anything at all he could verify to make what he'd held in his hands back in the office seem like reality. The Vampyre's logical reasoning had been divulged, but he still could not quite understand what Joachim had been thinking. Certainly it would have been a risk running two fake ID's through Airport security and customs in two countries, but that was precisely what a Force of Will came in handy for. Alucard was extremely proficient, capable of swaying a room full of people en masse if required. Was it that his latest colossal fuck-up had stolen all confidence the elder demon had in his ability to maintain his own safety? Or was it because Joachim... didn't want to risk Trevor Belmont? That Alucard could not be trusted to keep Trevor Belmont safe? What a pathetic excuse, if so. Keeping things above level? Ha!
Since when had Joachim ever cared for such things as legalities and propriety? Forget this tension headache, what kind of migraine was it going to be for him when the Church's lab tests all came back showing human markers only? The application had been made through his official office, so it's not like he could just shrug his shoulders in front of the Iron Maiden herself and say sorry, his on again, off-again Vampyre Master slash Caretaker was having a right laugh on his behalf trying to resister non-existent demons, now could he? By his own hand and poor choices, he was already about to look like he was running a clown show when they got down to the actual dire business that needed discussing.
Since he was already at it, being snoopy and whatnot, he pulled up their joint bank accounts to get an idea of what had transpired on multiple fronts while he was out of commission. The business and commercial accounts all looked normal, so everything seemed to have been managed accordingly on that front. Their personal finances showed nothing outright out of place upon a cursory glance. Food, of the grocery, convenience, and take-away kind was predominant. The processing fees for the document applications. Numerous clothing and accessory shop expenditures ranging from nominal to fairly hefty. Payments made to shell companies whose true purposes were the secure transport of magickal artifacts and the like, low-key demon movers and the subsequent fees paid out in Romania days later. At least he could rest assured everything important had made it across the pond safely already.
Again, strictly because he was already giving every account an overview, he popped over to one of their set-limit pre-paid credit cards and scrolled through what Leila had been up to these past few months, which was unsurprisingly, not very much. Some online shopping shipping to a P.O. Box they maintained in town and a few random online courses. Her funds were kind of low, so since he was already there, he topped her card up from his personal savings account instead of the joint-savings. For some reason Alucard felt the sudden need to let her know without saying it, that he was the one who'd thought to do that without her needing to ask for it. The girl was always looking for a new hobby to occupy her time, and these classes of hers were a good outlet. Perhaps she'd like to learn how to sew? Trevor would likely be more than happy to teach her.
That specific thought froze him in place. Just a casual imagining of Trevor in casual dressed-down clothing, in an intimate casual setting such as nestled into blankets on their couch, or tucked in at their kitchen table safe and warmly inside the soon to be home Trevor would share with three demons, casually teaching Leila the basics of a craft. Sharp-eyed and nimble-fingered Trevor Christopher Belmont, who had turned a tattered rag of a shirt into a custom work of art in a scant few hours... That he'd then given to Joachim as a gift. Discomfort, both legitimate and overblown, fuelled by both jealousy and a guilty conscience churned away in his viscera. The Hunter who had made the Vampyre's favourite breakfast, cutting the crusts off and slicing everything into child-size bites out of a paternal habit. A nurturing, loving habit that expressed thoughtful care. Thoughtfulness and care from the very same Trevor Belmont who the Vampyre has confessed falling in love with, and which with whom the feeling was also claimed to be mutual. Their latest interactions made it seem plausible. Plausible, as Joachim suggested, that each seemed to believe that in loving one another, Alucard's life would be made... What exactly? Easier? More harmonious or fulfilling? All the Dhampyre was certain of was that he didn't want to lose Trevor ever again. Not to a Coven, to time, to injury or sickness, or even just losing sight of him in a crowded public area. Especially, he did not care to lose Trevor in any capacity, emotional or physical, to the goddamn Vampyre who was his partner in so many endeavours, and who was supposed to be his friend.
Perhaps he was just wrenching his guts and furrowing his brow over faulty logic and misunderstandings. It had been Joachim's opinion, after all. Simply Joachim's assessments of Trevor's thoughts and feelings. Informed only, as far as Alucard was aware, by that little coil of auras the two couldn't seem to quit reaching out to complete when in one another's company. But really, how authentic was such an impression? Alucard was correct less than half the time trying to puzzle out an impression. Joachim was claiming an awful lot of things concerning Trevor Belmont of late, too. Most recently that the Hunter's reappearance in Alucard's life had started to return the Demon Prince of the Castle back into simply being... Adrian. That was one claim might be... Well.
That one may have held more truth than speculation. The more he contemplated the notion, the more unsure he became of anything to the contrary. Alucard's daily life was solitary more than not, and when not, filled with a plethora of guarded expressions and false airs. His status and prestige granted him a respectful tone and treatment few demons could say they shared, let alone even witnessed. Thin skin and sensitivity served no purpose in such a world where a man was left with no choice but to stand amongst those that feared and often loathed his very existence. Weathering hidden or sometimes overt disdain, annoyances and scorn from heads of states, nations and royalty. Making nice with stuffed shirts who saw him as a stepping stone for their own image-softening or other diversity pandering agendas, whom he knew would never make any true hard decisions for change. Alucard had thought nothing of the effects, if any, of living under that weight as there could be no alternative but to bear the burden. Whatever was required of him, he had no choice but to fulfill. Who else could? Yet now here he was suddenly, questioning what he'd become to stand where he was today. Before rediscovering that too thin body in the cave six months ago, when had been the last time he'd smiled genuinely? Or laughed other than sardonically? Could he even pinpoint a specific time where he had ever felt any joy in any of his actions over the past century?
Or...
...When was the last time that he'd embraced his family?
Alucard... Couldn't recall with any real clarity what Leila felt like in his arms. Pocketing his phone, he held his arms out curled towards his body, trying to remember how she'd fit against him when she was small. No, that's not right. He had held her with one hand, his left specifically, leaving his right free to work. There was always work to be done, and holding her every time she'd wanted him to was more often than not perceived as a chore in his overcrowded schedule. Still, he had never said no when she was little. There was a faint memory of her voice gleefully calling out 'Ding' whenever the typewriter bell alerted the right-hand margin had been reached. But the shape and weight of her small body cuddled up against his chest was lost to him. So was the shape of her tiny hand in his when crossing a busy street or intersection. The feel of her hair while trying to comb knots out of it, or the chewing gum one time some human brat had thought it funny to mash into her white-gold hair, teasing her for having tresses a colour – the little hellion claimed, mind – that made her look like an old lady. Even the shape and weight of her adult form was also a complete mystery. It had been decades after all since he'd picked her up and put her down for the last time.
That wasn't... It was not normal or okay, by any reasoning, to not recall what the people you lived with and purportedly loved felt like in your arms. Feeling a little at a loss, he next held his hand out before him, trying to see if he could visualize where the top of her head came up to now on his chest. Leila had gotten her banshee mother's personality and temper as if straight out of the same mould. Her mother had been the opposite of diminutive in every way but physical size as well. A pint sized powerhouse of a demon. The banshee's daughter had instead taken after her paternal side of the family in respect to her lofty stature for a woman. That being said, Leila was probably closer in height to Trevor, but definitely a touch taller. He could comfortably lean on Trevor's head for the fraction of a second it took until the Hunter realized what he was doing and elbowed him in the rubs – rightly so – for even attempting. Alucard was not sure he could do that to Leila with the same ease.
This was shameful, truly. To stand here and not be certain how tall a girl he'd watched grow up was. So shameful he took to bat form in an effort to escape the awkward feelings and with any luck burn off his growing nervousness about demon passports and looming Church visits. As he flew, more thoughts, fears, and emotions bubbled up to add fuel to the consuming fire. None of these tangents were new, per say. But never before had they come all at once, twisting together for his review like they were right now. He could no longer deny what he had known deeply inside for decades. His actions and sharp tongue – over the past countless years he was forced to acknowledge – had become endemic. Alucard was guilty of a prolific disregard for the only people he could claim to call family and who would do so of him. Guilty and carrying a strong need to re-examine what was revealing itself to be a long-standing, entirely one-sided hostility he was the sole perpetrator of.
No matter his suffering and the intensity of his emotions and obsessions, his recent words and actions towards his oldest friend had been intentionally cruel. When had even the people closest to him been reduced to pawns on a board he'd move just to further his work along? Who was he to chose what sacrifices others would make, for a greater good or not? What delusion had seized upon his mind to allow him to believe over time that his vision's path should be followed dogmatically by those around him? That simply because he was looking to the future, the present unfolding right now around him was in any way less significant? These were criticisms in the same vein he'd thrown at the High Priestess Estefania. It was no wonder the vile woman thought she could convince him to join her on her own faulty path. Alucard was just as guilty of arrogance and hubris as she.
The wind blowing passed his wings had always helped in the past to clear his mind. The exertion gave a satisfying muscle burn, fighting the winter air bat wings were not made to soar, while twirling, diving, and arcing acrobatically. From up on high, he could see just how far, how high, and how intricately Joachim had this part of town guarded, and was forced to acknowledge the tremendous effort and energy maintaining this web of safety must be taxing upon the Vampyre's body. Joachim's blanched pale flesh – for a Moroi, no less – and the fatigue in his aura he could no longer keep hidden all easily explained by what was laid out below. The demon was a liar to rebuff Alucard's valid concern that this was too much for him to handle alone, extensively. Not without regular and consistent feedings, which even admitting that he'd had fed off Alucard's beloved... It could not have been enough to maintain all this. To top it all off, the Vampyre was still seeing after his affairs, feeding and entertaining his beloved, and caring after his ungrateful self's body and mind.
And then I went ahead and throttled him for telling me openly what he believes to be the truth, regardless of my comfort level concerning it. He respects me enough to not lie, and it was all, in his words, in a bid to protect Trevor from my volatile reactions of late. Because that demon logic of his reasons that it's his job to suffer for our sake, and he will not even consider what I did to him a form of cruelty. I know to a pure demon these matters of the heart are not as big a deal as they are to me... But I am not all demon. I can't help my human failings regarding who I love. Nor could he say with any real resolve that he could help the possessive and obsessive desire to keep Trevor entirely to himself, however wrong it was to try and cage such a man. Even with the reassuring promise now made between them, that it would be Trevor and he together, facing the world and what it slung at them next. I suppose I also cannot fault a pure demon for failing to comprehend a human heart either. Maybe he really does not understand why my heart races and my blood burns when he steals bits and pieces of Trevor from me. Even if he refuses to allow me to, I really... Should apologize in some meaningful way. We should be able to discuss this tension between us with civility. Also... I should be upfront and just ask Trevor his perspective on this festering dilemma... Ask him what he is expecting and I guess... See how I can manage those expectations. Even if they are not the kind of expectations I am hoping to hear. I have to be able to do that much, at least, without acting like an animalistic brute.
After all, was there not so much else to take care of first before he could take a selfish moment to sort out his romance? The cruel but at the time deemed necessary disconnect with his family, he'd just come to acknowledge, had also stemmed from such thoughts. That it was fruitless and wasteful to be distracted by love and comfort in his personal life when there was a great threat to the comfort and safety of his kind still out in the world. Even more so now that it was his direct careless actions that had called into question the safety of not just demons, but all living creatures. Was he so wrong and terrible to place greater importance on the world? Balancing it all seemed impossible... How could he keep taking what he needed from the present to put towards the future without giving what was being asked of him? How could he reach his idealized future world without letting down the people in the current messy one?
In the end, the frenetic flight did not help ease any of his sour mood. He alighted down in his soon to be former backyard and studied the playful scene inside for a spell, heart heavy with mixed emotions. In the barren floor space of the former living room danced the Hunter and Vampyre Alucard's thoughts were preoccupied increasingly by. Ghostly blades whirled and clashed between the steps of fancy footwork and nimble parrying. To his surprise, Joachim's fine form was not on display in the slightest. Alucard had plenty memories both ancient and recent, of crossing blades with the elder demon. They'd always used real steel as each blow was meant to be met soundly or hurt. It was deathly serious training with intent to keep Alucard's reflexes tight and sharp, as often his life did depend on honed skills when his power alone was not enough. With sharp skill, even the weak could surmount, Joachim's lessons instilled. Swordplay was one of the few things they still did together routinely, although all sense of fun had long gone out of their sessions.
To the contrary, Alucard had never seen Trevor pick up a sword even once during their journey together, but he could admit the Hunter had a definable if unconventional raw skill, just as he could see how much fun the usually regimented Joachim was having trying to combat that same unconventionality. It was a strange sight to behold, this jovial non-duel. Natural talent was evident, but there was so much to improve on the Hunter's side of the dance that Alucard found himself fighting the urge to shout out proper instructions. The Vampyre did not chasten or try to correct any of Trevor's missteps or poor form even once, which Alucard was expecting him to... Until he realized it was because this was not a lesson at all. It was play. They were two grown men swinging sticks at each other for a laugh. Ghostly sticks made of Vampyre energy, but sticks none the less. After a few minutes, Joachim caught an overhead strike with such a force behind it, he sent the barefoot Hunter bouncing back in a small flip that had him colliding with the wall.
The wall his talon clawed feet sunk into instinctively six feet off the ground, suspending the Hunter in a half stance crouch, shock painted all over his face.
“Wow, that's crazy, right!?” Trevor exclaimed, flexing the very toes in question, crumbling more of the drywall.
Ghostly swords winking out of existence, Joachim all but jumped to try and dislodge the Hunter from his perch. “Scaling walls is quite a useful skill to have under your belt so long as they are not the walls that I am paying for, Bunny. Get down from there before Adrian kills you. We already have to replace the bathroom sink and toilet. Now I'm going to have to call in a drywall repair as well. The deposit on this place is a complete write-off.”
Trevor did not seem to really be paying attention to what the Vampyre was complaining about, too wrapped up in his unexpected predicament. He reached out to balance a hand on Joachim's shoulder, looking over the top of the demon's head into the bedroom behind them. “Oh, I see now why it's so easy for you and Adrian walk around with such boldness. If I saw the world from this high-up every day, I'd be full of myself too.”
Recognizing comedic timing when it was presented on a platter, Alucard chose that exact moment to rap his knuckles against the glass door, causing Joachim to stiffen straight and let go of the Hunter, who now without support and half pulled free, proceeded to face plant upside down onto the baseboards.
“Ouch.” Trevor mumbled, both scrambling at and further damaging the drywall as each clawed hand and foot failed to pull himself free from the clinging position.
Joachim abandoned the Hunter to it in order to unlock the garden-side door and let the Dhampyre in, holding two hands up like he was surrendering to the police as he backed away towards the front door. It certainly seemed as if the Vampyre was trying to avoid meeting his eyes, and Alucard felt another stab of guilt looking at the increasingly purple swollen marks on his face and neck. “You know what, Little One? You can take all the responsibility for this farce. I'll leave you to it, since I need to run an errand anyway. Good luck!” The Vampyre's ghostly tendrils had reclaimed the wet boots straight off of Alucard's feet and the demon was out the front door before the Dhampyre had even closed the back. The borrowed coat wasn't touched, still zipped up on his person. His car keys were taken, though, if the familiar jangle was anything to go by.
“I would never have taken you for a coward, Vampyre!” The dangling, still scrambling man called after the elder Moroi before outright giving up and sighing. “Please help me, Adrian. I am stuck.”
Perhaps he had stood staring in the direction of the front entrance-way for a touch too long, but there was a churning uncomfortable feeling in his guts in knowing his return had chased off a more powerful Moroi. Rejection was par for the course in a demon's life, but he'd never seen Joachim run away from him before. Never once. Frowning only briefly, Alucard turned and studied the pitiable display with a straight face, closing the distance before crouching down by the wall to better peer at Trevor's reddening nose. A small trickle of blood from the collision with the baseboard was already drying up in one of his nostrils, misting the air with his honeyed scent. “You know, I told you once that these nails of yours would be perfect for climbing. Guess I was correct.”
“I remember. I also recall telling you that you could have them. I'll still trade if you want, but the new non-negotiable inclusion on this deal is that you have to free me first.” Trevor sighed again. “Please? My face hurts and all the blood is rushing to my head.”
“Well, you did say please.” Alucard reasoned, rising to his feet slowly. He welcomed the playful opportunistic distraction of his own, and did teasingly run a hand up – or in this instance, would it not technically be considered down? – Trevor's body, starting with his shoulders, then back, a squeeze of half that perfect ass, before finally standing with a shapely thigh gripped loosely. “Let's see if we can puzzle this out so you are able to help yourself next time.” He hummed as he peered at the bare toes destroying his drywall for a moment, and when satisfied he'd gotten the mechanics in order, tightened his grip on the thigh. “Move your feet this way.” Instruction aided by his free hand, he helped guide the Hunter into dislodging the anchoring hooks and was left dangling the man by his now free leg.
“Thank you.” Trevor grit out, growing agitated in spite of his newly found freedom. “Would you kindly turn me the right side up now? I still have all of my blood in my skull, and if you're to keep dangling me in front of your crotch, I'm going to need my blood to go other places. Unless you want to try that other thing you asked me to do for you the time I can remember? I'm not sure I could do that upside down yet.” He accepted Alucard's offered hand, with the free laugh the Dhampyre threw in for his comment, to help twist himself back onto his own two feet, properly mind, on the actual floor. “Oh no, now I am dizzy. It's like those amusement park attractions we rode all over again.”
Alucard was more than happy to let the Hunter stumble forward and collapse against the Dhampyre with his full weight, going so far as to hold his hands out to enclose around the smaller brunette. There was a myriad of intermixed aromas wafting up from the Hunter. Epsom salts and essential oils and what was definitely Alucard's own hair products blending with the man's own mild earthy sweetness... As expected, also notes of the Vampyre's own wildly fresh scent. Trevor's skin looked clear and bright, and even through filmy vision Alucard could tell his oft unkempt and rarely considered hair was tamed and looked luxuriously glossy in the overhead lighting. He must have looked so beautiful freshly stepping out of the bath... It hurt that it was Joachim who had been the first to view and to touch his refreshed little flower. Logically, he knew it should not. But emotionally, he could not deny that it did. The irrational anger that brought up gave him unstable thoughts. Passing and not fully formed, but disturbing all the same. No, Alucard could not just tie Trevor down and keep the man on leash so that he'd never leave the Dhampyre's side. No, he should not in a petty bid to keep his toys to himself, just devour and consume every last part of Trevor Christopher Belmont so that there wasn't even a scrap or crumb left for any other demon.
Stop it. Just... Please stop thinking like an unstable lunatic. A pitiful sight himself, he begged for reason to prevail against this frightening sinister obsession twisting the love he had for this man before him into something unrecognizable and profane. Trevor Belmont was not his possession or prisoner, and Alucard did not desire he to become either! These ugly desires had to be a passing phase, as Joachim had said. Torture and confinement had made him not well in body and mind.
“Adrian..?” Trevor's new more hushed voice was still an adjustment he was getting used to, but hushed or not, it still startled him.
“Please say you still love me.” Spoken in such a broken desperate way, that hadn't been what he had meant to say at all. When his lips had first parted, he'd only meant to assure Trevor is some fashion that nothing was wrong. To tell him not to concern himself. That Alucard was just tired, or thinking about the move or... Anything but the truth. The shameful truth that he needed his own constant reassurance that Trevor still wanted to be his... At least until he could manage to get a grip. Alucard was no longer in the bottom of a lake trading away his dignity for brief reprieves. Trevor Belmont was no longer on the alter at the bottom of a cave, flesh being cut into night after night. They were together. They were safe. And they loved one another. Alucard needed to get a grip on his reality.
The Hunter peered up at him through long lashes, quietly studying the Dhampyre's visage. Were his eyelashes always that long? Alucard had spent an untold amount of time looking into those uniquely coloured jewels but had he ever really took note of the soft fans shading those steel irises? They were the same colour as his hair, which was lighter than eyelashes tended to be. Was that perhaps why? Was that an excuse? Did he even deserve Trevor's love when six hundred years later he was only just realizing the man had what amounted to natural eyelash extensions? How could he think himself worthy for missing such a stunning understated trait?
“I was under the impression it was still too soon but just to clarify, are we having that conversation now, or was I correct to act as if today is just one amongst the thousands more we'll share?” The question, posed softly yet communicated loud and clear, startled Alucard again. When he could not find it within himself to answer either way, Trevor closed his eyes and sighed for a third time. “My answer doesn't change in either scenario. I will love you no matter what happens, Adrian. Even if you stop loving me, I will still love you for what you've given me so far. Happy?”
“Say it again.” He choked. How could I ever stop loving you? Why would you even say that?
“Adrian..?” Trevor murmured quizzically, tilting his head briefly before he stepped in to place one of those chaste little I Love You kisses on his lips. “Obviously, you appear to be feeling uncertain about some things. You need me to reassure you, I'm guessing. That's all right... I love you, Adrian, but if you keep asking me to tell you so every time you are afraid I do not, the very words themselves are going to start losing significance to me.” The Hunter hummed as his head tilted the other way, thinking out loud. “Hmm... It's not like I can just show you I love you with a kiss all the time either. What if we are in a dangerous situation when this fear of yours strikes and you need me to assure you?”
“I-I am sorry I--”
“No, Adrian. There is no need to apologize.” Trevor insisted. “I think I have a solution for you. Turn your palm towards me.”
“My... Palm?” Alucard looked down at the hand hanging loosely at his side and following instructions, rotated his wrist until the palm faced outwards toward the Hunter. It was seized by one of Trevor's own hands immediately and given two short squeezes. “That's... How you told me 'yes' when I was blind and deaf?”
“Yes.” Trevor confirmed, giving another two squeezes. “Going forward, it's also how I can tell you as many times as you need me to that I love you discreetly.” Pink lips split into a grin as the Hunter chuckled softly. “This is actually kind of fun, if you think about it. Like a little secret code only you and I share.”
“A secret code... Just for us?” Alucard turned the idea over in his head. Having a silly little thing all to themselves did make his hurting heart feel better... “What if I need you to tell me and you don't notice my hand though?”
“I'll notice.” The Hunter said confidently, in a tone that sounded almost like his old self. The nearly boastful and proud nineteen year old boy who had stepped into his mother's sunken lab centuries prior. “You make it sound like you don't believe I am always paying attention to you. Allow me the opportunity to assure you on that front, as well. You always have my attention, Adrian.” Then as if reading the Dhampyre's mind, he added smoothly. “From the very first day I laid eyes on you, I knew you would be something worth keeping my eyes on.” Grin widening, the Hunter gave the side of his waist one single playful squeeze. “Are you aware that you blush just like one of your storybook princesses? It starts at the back of your neck, but the more I tease you, the higher it climbs. It's quite pretty on you, that flushed new bride look, and you are nice enough to look at on a regular day. You should be warned it does things to me, looking at you when you're like this.”
“You are playing me, Trevor Belmont. You know with my old vice vanity in tow that I can't ignore a compliment, be it flattery or not.” Played or not, his shoulders were indeed shaking with a silent little chuckle of his own, and his heart did feel lighter. Guilt was the last thing on his mind now. “It had the desired effect, I promise.”
“It's not an empty compliment, just so you know. I have been thinking about you since you left hours ago.” The Hunter confessed, gripping him by the lapels of his borrowed midnight coloured jacket to pull back close. Rather than continue to speak right away, Alucard stared in a bit of shocked intrigue as Trevor felt him up through the leather coat, seeming particularly interested in how Joachim's cinched at the waist leather motojacket framed the broad tapered 'V' shape of his torso. A shiver went down Alucard's spine when Trevor pulled him closer to inhale deeply where the collar met his neck, hot breath blazing over the flesh there to whisper. “Do you own a leather jacket? Please say that you do.”
“I... do.” Alucard confessed, reason dawning and once again being left to curse his dead nerve-endings and non-functioning dick. What did he smell like right now to the Hunter that would cause such a paradigm shift, and how could he replicate it for future use? “It's not in this style though. Joachim dresses much flashier than I do.”
“What colour is it, and most importantly, does it hug your body like this one does?”
Would anybody like to tell me exactly when did he get so goddamn horny? Is it just because I can't fuck him in this state, like some cruel joke at my expense? He's been ready to go since I crawled out of the dirt. “It's black... Most of my clothes are black. It does also skim my torso a little, but the cut is classic and nowhere near as form-fitted as this one. Again, Joachim dresses like a cheap whore.” Cracking up at his own joke before he could even get it out, he managed to wheeze. “I'm the classy whore.”
“Whores of any class or creed are just trying to make a living wage.” Trevor snickered leaning fully against him with a long suffering sigh. Adding to the Dhampyre's continuing pile of Trevor Belmont surprises, a naughty hand hooked on the hem of his track pants and even the front of his trunks to pull him those last millimetres flush. “This is absolutely criminal. You look so good right now, I really hate that I don't feel any reaction out of you below this leather coat. Why didn't either of you tell me this whole process of regrowing your skin would be so very inconvenient for me, Adrian? Can you grow it back faster? Do you need me to donate more blood to the cause? I have a lot of straying sinful thoughts of late, and no outlet for all of these preoccupations.” The Hunter lifted onto his tip toes and snagged a real but painfully brief kiss. “Terribly inconvenient.”
Alucard blinked a few times, shaking his head in disbelief. “Who are you, and what have you done to my shy and flustered little vestal virgin I used to chase around Romania?”
“First, just to get the facts straight, I was the one who took your virginity. You were the vestal virgin I deflowered on the grounds of your childhood home, no less.” Trevor stated pointedly, letting the hems of both his lower garments snap back audibly so as to use that newly free hand to instead hook the collar of the coat. “You weren't chasing me either, I had you by the lead the whole time.” The Hunter tugged him with just enough pressure on his collar to bring their foreheads to rest against one another, as the flash in his eyes entreated the now excited Dhampyre. “And lastly, I'm no longer married, betrothed, or expecting a child with another woman right now. You're the only one I am hopping into bed with at current, so what would be the point in putting on a pious show? Unless that's the actual reason you're dead below the waist? Do you need me to pretend I'm overwhelmed by your demon lust or something?” Wry smile breaking, in a faint and convincing woman's tone he pleaded. “Oh please have mercy, you frightful creature of the night. I am but a humble maiden, weak to your charms.”
Now aroused and sexually frustrated all over again, the Dhampyre seized an angular jaw with one hand to twist into a hungry kiss as he scooped the smaller man up with his other arm. Heavy petting, lips crushing, and playful nips ensued as he walked them towards the bed to throw the insatiable brunette down upon, only to fall all over that warm welcoming form the next second. The man's pants felt new and trendy, most likely one of the new purchases Trevor had picked out for himself, so Alucard took the time to divest the Hunter of them properly instead of tearing the fabric free like he'd wanted, finding another little surprise underneath.
“Are you wearing silk underwear?” Alucard asked, completely intrigued by the smooth glide against his fingertips. When Trevor gave him an affirmative noise in response, he couldn't help but inhale deeply and laugh. “Gold silk underwear. Is this why you've been so fucking horny since I woke up? You got your testicles in a luxury hammock.”
“I'm not sure. I guess it depends what you mean by that word you're using?”
Grabbing a fistful of warm firm flesh encased in silk and giving a single, languid stroke, he purred. “This. I can't believe you want an etymology lesson right now. It's from an 18th Century term to describe the aesthetic quality of a man's arousal, comparing it to 'having the horn' of a ram. I could tell you about how our language went from 'having the horn' to just plain ole being 'horny' if you want, or would you rather I skip the lecture for another day and just take care of this for your like I did earlier?” Of course, he was already sliding the silk free and pulling open his bedside drawer even before Trevor managed to make the request.
“I...” Unbelievably, even after that whole performance, the Hunter hemmed and hawed while Alucard got everything lubricated. Trevor's brief display of brazenness suddenly wilting back into timidness, he tried to make a confession. “I tried that and... Nghh!” Trevor cried out suddenly as Alucard's finger slipped in, followed shortly by another. It was rare to get a sound out of the brunette that wasn't stifled, breathy, or hissed, given how hellbent he was on keeping all those wet little moans to himself. The uncommon success encourage him to work his way up to the third, and the Dhampyre delighted in watching the blushing Hunter instinctively push back against his probing digits, seizing the chance to heighten his own pleasure. After a few minutes, Trevor let out a aggravated whine and tossed his head. “It's just like in the shower... It's not enough.”
That certainly piqued his interest. “Just what are you doing in my shower, Trevor Belmont?”
“What do you think?” The frustrated Hunter snapped with a glare. “It's your fault for wearing that stupid fitted coat and zipping it up so slowly in front of me.”
“Zipping a coat up made you horny?” Alucard reiterated, trying to get the story straight. That couldn't possibly be the real reason that kicked off this whole slutty show, could it?
According to Trevor, however, it was. “Zipping that coat up so slowly did!” Sitting up to take hold of the leather coat in question, Trevor unzipped it part-ways only to zip it back up to his neck agonizingly slow. It was very clear by the little shiver that ran through the Hunter's body that the noise was indeed doing things for him. “It's not enough, Adrian. I actually tried and...”
Wow. The things I am learning about you left and right now that you are mine alone. Decided right then and there was that the Dhampyre needed urgently to compile a list of the small but specific and at times unorthodox collection of fixations that evidently turned the Hunter on. Off the top of his head the list would include Trevor always requiring access and opportunity to run his hands over a well-muscled body. Trevor seemed quite fixated and appreciative of his sculpted form centuries ago, and that hadn't appeared to have diminished with time. The feel of lace and silk was also on the list, yet he could not exactly prove or disprove if it was wearing traditionally female attire that the man found liberating, or if it was just because Trevor's preference was for the types of fabric only women's fashions seemed to incorporate liberally. More research required for a later day. There was also the fact that for all his bluster about the overblown value in of pride and vanity, the man could be seduced by flattering him just right, under some very precise circumstances. And now Alucard could add the creaking muted sounds of leather zipping up. Certainly a curious creature, that Trevor Belmont... I am getting so very distracted again, what was he just saying? What he tried was not enough...?
“Tried what?” He asked, to refocus his attention on what was going on right in front of him.
“What you're doing. I...” The Hunter blushed, all at once returning to that shy little vestal virgin he denied being just minutes prior, but unlike the one he'd chased all across Romania, this one was able to to put to voice what she was desiring. From his sitting position, Trevor pushed forward onto his knees, holding Alucard by his shoulders to look him in the eyes, and sat down down deliberately so as to grind himself on the Dhampyre's slowly working fingers. Flushed features still strong, a hand slipped from one of his shoulders to cup at the dead flesh between his legs. “I tried to take my pleasure this way, but all I could do was wish for your manhood in place of my own hands. I can hardly recall what it even felt like, I was so nervous the first time, and I barely remember anything from the night I believe I may have received you in this fashion for the second time. So I don't know why the thought is consuming my every waking moment...”
Hol' up. The Dhampyre's hand stilled as he stared at this beautiful, desperate, suffering little creature laid out before him, confessing to the sexiest little dirty deeds he'd heard in a good long while. Thinking about me in the shower got him so hot and horny he tried to fuck himself, but it didn't work because he's drooling after the real thing. Oh, that was a dangerous boost to his ego, that confession of Trevor's. The Hunter wanting his cock so badly, no other substitute would suffice? Wanting Alucard to push him down and fill him to the brim so desperately, he'd just had no other option but to come right out and say it. So dangerous. So glorifying. It could drive a demon straight into conceited ecstasy.
Perhaps with a little persuasion and a healthy imagination, the Dhampyre could scratch the poor Hunter's itch just enough to tide him over, though? His own body itched quite literally all over. Those damned nerves of his had to be regrowing. Trevor wouldn't need to hold out too much longer, so if he could just be given a bit of relief..?
“Go digging in the drawer, Trevor. Remember the little totems you found at the bottom while you were being nosy? Pick the one you best like the look of.” Alucard instructed, fishing for the tube of lubrication he'd lost amongst the rumpled duvet of the unmade bed. “Bingo.” He exclaimed triumphantly, taking the prismatic light blue vibrator off the Hunter's hands to douse with the retrieved lube. It was one of the smaller sizes, so unknowingly or not, Trevor had made a good selection for his first ride. “What did you like about this one?” It was a question just to fill the silence as he got it nice and slick, and keep the Hunter's nerves from getting the better of him before they'd even started.
“The last time you asked me to pick a colour for something without explaining what or why, I chose blue. That ended up being for a pretty dress I enjoyed wearing for you. So I thought why not go with blue again? Maybe it's a lucky colour for me?” The Hunter explained his reasoning with a returning blush, leaning forward to watch him coat the silicon liberally. Highlighted by the rosy stain and close proximity, the faint freckles on his nose were more apparent. They softened his angular features somewhat, making him appear cuter. More innocent. “Is this totem for a ritual of some kind? It is quite phallic in nature. I have been wondering what their purpose was.” Such an innocent question from a curious mind.
The commentary and open question split the Dhampyre's face in a wide grin. Was it not a demon's true purpose but to corrupt the innocent? The answer was no, of course, but also... Sometimes, it was yes. Very yes. It didn't take too much effort to push against the Hunter's chest and ease him down onto his back again, where Alucard could slip between his legs. “It goes without saying that you can tell me to stop at any time. We'll go slow, and if you're uncomfortable or feel too weird about it, we can try something else to fix your little problem, okay?”
“I have no idea what I am in for, do I?” Trevor squeaked, staring up at him with wide eyes. “That thing you have covered in your aspic. That's not a... Totem, is it?”
“No, sweetheart, it's not.” Alucard replied, leaning forward to draw the nervous Hunter into a soft, sensual kiss. He kept at it long enough, running a soothing hand through hair and across flesh, that the brunette below him was relaxed and pliant when he finally brought the toy in place to begin the gentle glide inside. “Shh... You're okay.” He whispered between kisses, around the gasp the Hunter had let out. “There is nothing to be afraid of. I like to use these when I am pleasuring myself, but if you don't like how it feels just tell me.” When Trevor said nothing, he kept up the light pressure until the base of the vibe bottomed out, adding a little more lubrication around the circumference in order to begin pulling it out and sliding it back in, increasing the length of each thrust infinitesimally. “How does it feel?”
“I can't believe this is what you keep out for just anyone to stumble across.” Deflecting the question because he was either too embarrassed or too uncertain to give a straight reply, Alucard slotted the toy back to it's base and sidled up closer so that when the man's internal muscles pushed against the silicon intruder, he was able to slide it back into place with a thrust of his pelvis. It was easy to keep the pace, moving his own hips as if he were pushing his own member into the writhing body below him. In a sense, they were now locked in a leisurely mock performance of lovemaking, and Alucard did enjoy how Trevor reached out to lay his palms flat against the Dhampyre's hidden abs, just as he had done the first time. Not to pull or push away, but simply to have some kind of connection. Alucard was beginning to suspect that when he was the one on the bottom, it might be important for Trevor to feel assured that he wasn't seen as just a human fleshlight. Even if he'd have to be taught what a fleshlight was for the analogy to work.
Unsnapping and unzipping the leather coat as unhurriedly as he had donned the garment drew Trevor's attention, which was the desired effect, and Alucard took the time to grab those splayed hands and guide them up under his shirt where Trevor could feel his flesh without any barrier. “You went digging to find all this stuff, remember? Nothing was out in the open.” He corrected with a little pleased sounding exhale. There may have been nothing capable of going on in his own pants, but the lidded eyes, shy sounds, combined with both deeply aroused look and scent coming off the Hunter was more than making up for his own annoyances. “Does it feel good, my heart? I wish I could really make love to you, but it's not such a bad thing to pretend in this moment, right? It won't be long before we're back here again and I am fucking you nice and slowly with what you really want.” Hands wrapped completely around a tapered waist helped to align and draw the Hunter into his thrusts, going so far as to lift his lower half off the bed. “I want you to feel good.”
“...good.”
Spoken in such a hush, Alucard leaned closer to make sure he was hearing what he thought he was, when he asked again. “Does this make you feel good, or do you want me to stop?”
“Feels... good.” Trevor murmured, eyes fluttering closed and lips parting to pant. “Don't stop.”
“All right.” He replied with a few butterfly kisses around an ear, jawline and neck. The neck got him the best sounding reactions by far. “Let's try a little something extra, okay?”
“Okay...”
As expected, when he reached down, rotating the base of the device on to only the first click, the Hunter jumped up from his relaxed sprawl into the Dhampyre's arms, alarmed by the vibrations wracking through his body. “Shh... You're still okay.” Alucard soothed. “It doesn't hurt. Quite the opposite.” It was no big deal to fall back and let the uncertain man scramble on top of him, ankles hooking around his waist just as arms were thrown around his neck. Trevor's forehead fell to rest on Alucard's shoulder as he continued to slowly work the now vibrating toy in as if it were just an extension of his own body. He curled a hand around the Hunter's neck and thread fingers into his hair so as to give the man something more tangible and living to focus on in an effort to mediate the ceaseless intensity of such mechanical pleasure. “Still feeling good?”
“I-I don't know...” The trembling man further buried his face in the Dhampyre's shirt and let out a whimper. “It feels so strange, Adrian. Have you really done this to yourself?”
“Of course.” He answered candidly. “Even a guy as handsome as me strikes out at the bar or club a few nights here and there. I am also incredibly busy these days. I don't have the kind of time or patience to pursue sexual partners like I used to, and my dick doesn't reach that far back so...”
That revelation actually got the Hunter to lift his head from where he was hiding, and give the Dhampyre an incredulous look. “Are you really claiming that you have to pursue other people? Honestly, you are telling me you don't just sit outside with a sign that says open for business? What kind of chances do the rest of us have if even you have to put effort into it, then?”
Just how hot do you think I am, Trevor Belmont? Now Alucard really wanted to know. For it was starting to suspiciously sound like when Joachim was teasing him back in the woods where the runaway Hunter had been found. That what was claimed back then was not hyperbole as he'd thought. So did that mean that Trevor truly believed he, Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș, was the most beautiful thing the Hunter had ever laid eyes on? Before a wife, Sypha and two darling little boys? Oh, that is very dangerous to my over inflated ego, Trevor.
“You are just full of flattery today, aren't you?” Preening even though he should show some humility or humbleness to balance out his swelling pride, the Dhampyre lamented about his great plight. “I seem cursed to attract mostly the wrong types of people. Bored married men and immature young women. Legions of young women, Trevor. They trip over themselves trying to vie for my affection.”
“I... am failing to see your problem, Adrian.” The Hunter let out another whimpering moan while beginning to actively push himself back against the toy. It was a good sign. The strangeness of the new sensation and sexual play was not too much too soon for the vanilla Hunter.
“The issue is I don't want immature young women, Trevor. Or people only interested in rubbing more than elbows with a minor celebrity. Or bored, sexually frustrated old married men looking to have an affair or put a notch in their bedpost by bedding a famous demon. Did you know that's also a kink? Getting fucked by or dominating a demon is it's own genre of porn these days. Particularly Vampyres, Incubi and Succubi. We've been reduced largely by the public to a sexual fetish.”
“Look, Adrian, after we swap feet we can also trade whatever pheromones we're giving off to attract others too. I would love a legion of young women to fall over me, but all my face seems to draw interest in bringing to my bedchambers are thoroughbred perverts.”
“Listen, don't give me that. You're a covert pervert, and you know it.” Alucard scoffed and accepted the lightly thrown punch to the gut before he pushed the Hunter back down and clicked the vibrator up two speeds. “Now are you going to hurry up and cum before Joachim gets back from his little errand, or do you need him to listen to you moan from the other room to get off these days?” Trevor seized up at the mere mention of adding an audience, and Alucard delighted in the tease. That was going on the list of things Trevor was turned on by too. I can't believe I almost forgot about that fun discovery. “Should I open the back door and invite the neighbours to watch? They're not going to be our neighbours for very long, so what does it matter what they think about us afterwards?”
Trevor turned absolutely crimson. It worked, though. With only a few final helping strokes of his hand on the Hunter's rigid flesh, the front of the shirt the Dhampyre wore was painted with a starburst design of a whole other kind.
“You are one pent up man, Trevor Belmont.” Gesturing to his soaked shirt, he could barely comment through his laughter. “Looks like I got my own special starry shirt in the end now, didn't I?”
It was obvious the Hunter was mortified and not amused in the slightest, but Alucard couldn't care at that particular moment and time. Well, he didn't until the now glowering brunette wearing a post orgasm glow pulled the still vibrating sex-toy free to throw right in his face. That was a new one for the record books. He'd never been slapped in the face with a freshly used silicon vibrator. That was still vibrating. The utter absurdity of what had just occurred broke what minuscule grip he had left on any sense of decorum. By the time he'd managed to pull himself together enough to stop laughing at the fact he'd been pimp-slapped with a fake dick, Alucard found a now redressed Trevor perched on the side of the bed with the capped lubricant, freshly washed toy, and a clean, damp, still warm rag laid out on the bedding. It seemed like the Hunter had figured out how to turn the new experience off all on his own.
“I will probably never beat you in a fair fight, Trevor Belmont.” Alucard stated seriously, watching the vexed but still listening Hunter clean the mess off his hands for him with the warmed washcloth. “But if we're to count the bedroom as a battleground, than I am the reigning King.”
“Now you sound like you're the cheap whore.” Trevor narrowed his eyes and turned away. He gave a wry smile, but there was something to how he hedged before making the following comment that made Alucard feel as if he had perhaps boasted too far. “It's not exactly a fair fight... These bedroom activities. You've had six hundred years to bed anything that caught your fancy and play any games you liked. The last thing I remember is getting stabbed in the Castle and bits and parts of having my blood drained for years. You're the only man I have been with like this.”
So it was an accurate guess after all. His thoughtless boast had struck a nerve. It was an understandable apprehension for the Hunter to have. What he'd said was indeed the truth, and yes, Alucard had slept his way across half the globe in during the eight hundred years he'd walked this earth now. Every coupling was different, though. There had to be a way to let the Hunter know there was no use comparing. “Trevor... I remember being self-conscious the first time you touched me because I had no idea what I was doing. I was afraid I wouldn't be exciting enough to keep your interest that I had just hard-won. Did you think my inexperience back then was something I should have been ashamed about?”
“Of course not.”
“So... What is the difference? For a little while, it may just be me teaching you some new tricks, but soon enough, we will try experimenting with a few more and start learning together. With time we'll each know what the other likes and dislikes and then every time we make love it will be the best sex we've ever had. We already have what is called sexual chemistry, Trevor. We just need to discover all the good formulas, that's all.” The Dhampyre dreamed out loud, already eager for that lofty goal months or years down the road. But for right now, he wanted to assure the fragile teacup that was still assembling and designing it's new pretty pattern, that the role reversal of experience between the sheets was not so big a deal as Trevor might fear. “Do you want to know what is the most attractive thing about you in my eyes?”
The Hunter wouldn't meet his eyes, but he did half turn his head towards the Dhampyre. “...What, Adrian?”
“The fact that you want me. You love me and you want to stay with me. There's no greater ecstasy than having the person you love look back at you with just as much desire.”
“He always make these grand sweeping statements and I somehow keep believing him every single time.” Trevor murmured almost entirely to himself. There was an internal struggle that took place, but however the manner was resolved, Trevor was searching for something in Alucard's expression. “I am a good student.” The Hunter spoke a little more firmly, meeting his yellow eyes. “If it is a subject that interests me... I will learn quickly.”
Leaning forward for another little chaste kiss, the Dhampyre mused. “I hope to share a few subjects that interest us both, then.”
“You may want to change your clothes before you do anything else. What you are wearing is not exactly one of my greatest designs.” Trevor gave him a playful shove when he reached out to try and hug him with the splattered shirt still on and vacated the bedroom, leaving the Dhampyre to tend to his damp mess and put away his toys.
Loathe to put on one of two remaining suits he had left in the house, or even dress in business casual attire, he peeled off the leather coat that had kick-started the whole lusty affair to swap track pants and long sleeved sweater for the last pair he had in the house. The indigo coloured leather absolutely reeked of Trevor's scent, both natural sweetened Earth and Sky and their combined arousal. It must have also stunk of his own personal scent, whatever that was like. Somehow, Alucard felt that Joachim wouldn't mind knowing that his new favourite garment had just played the starring role in Alucard's sex life. Hell, the Vampyre would probably ask him regularly going forward if he needed to borrow it to get laid... Based on Trevor's reaction to the midnight blue jacket, maybe he indeed would?
He followed his nose to the study where the Hunter was staring at the handsomely dressed headless statue again, folded arms and scowl set firmly in place. There was something Trevor hated about the statue that had caused him to cover it up with one of Alucard's suit jacket's, which the Dhampyre was finding immensely humorous any time it crossed his mind. He kept trying to get Trevor to guess where the Hunter knew the statue from, and the man would never think very hard about it before dismissing the chunk of marble. At first he'd suspected it was blatant stubbornness and a refusal to admit to the truth, but more and more he was realizing Trevor really had no idea of the statue's origin. Pure comedy, that.
“Remind me to pack that up tomorrow.”
“I won't be disappointed if you forget it here.” Trevor countered, spinning on his heel from the attractive marble torso wearing a borrowed suit jacket. He studied Alucard with an unreadable expression which rooted the demon in place to wait it out. In the end, all Trevor did was step back into his embrace and let himself be folded up neatly.
“You are okay, right?” It was prudent to check in one last time, as he hadn't really gotten a definitive answer from the other man. There may be a plethora of modern day experiences both in and out of the bedroom he was dying to show the Hunter, but he did have to be mindful not to overwhelm the man with too many strange things at once. Maybe he should have refrained from turning the vibrator on during the first trial run? Trevor had seemed to be enjoying it as a substitute for the unresponsive dick dangling between Alucard's legs. “Did you enjoy what we just did over there or would I get another one tossed at my head if I took it out again..?”
“It... felt good overall.” Trevor decided after careful consideration. “In the beginning it was kind of sensual. I really did mange to pretend it was yours, like I wanted it to be.”
“I am hearing a 'but'...”
“...At the end it...” Trevor shook his head. There was a reluctance to his tone, but it was sweet that he trusted Alucard with his honesty. “It was rattling so much. I-I'm not sure... I don't think I liked it shaking my body that fiercely.” With a huge inhale, Trevor shushed him before he could finish apologizing for his little game being too much. Not everyone liked such precise stimulation, after all. It all but confirmed his suspicions that Trevor needed that tender personal connection to enjoy being penetrated. “Your little totem removed much of the urgency. I am feeling more clear-headed and less preoccupied by such amorous... fixations. I could probably wait out the real object in question making it's grand return to form now.”
“All's well that ends well, I guess then.” Alucard replied and was rewarded with a musical little laugh out of Trevor. It was nice, as well, that the Hunter seemed perfectly content to stay how they were, embracing in the middle of an emptied office. “There isn't much left here to entertain ourselves... Was there something you wanted to do together?”
“Hmm...” The Hunter cuddled up more tightly before he let go and stepped back. “You are donating your piano to a rural mountain school, I heard. Would you play it for me one last time before it is taken away?”
“That's news to me, but I suppose there is no point shipping a piano across the sea when I already have one at home.” The Dhampyre sighed, stepping around the empty room to slide into place on the bench. He motioned for Trevor to join him, and was not satisfied by having the man perch beside him. He instead scooched back and insisted Trevor sit in the space between his thighs, where he'd have to hug that smaller body in order to hit many of the notes. “I did really like this one.”
“Can you play something soft?”
“Soft?” The Dhampyre quirked his head. “Something... romantic, perhaps?” Based on the adorably shy little non-verbal squirm and affirm Trevor gave him, he decided upon Debussy's Reverie. It was a simple enough piece he could play even when blackout drunk, and he'd mastered enough cover versions of the classic piece to chain them together into a pleasant medley that kept it interesting. The Hunter relaxed back into him and watched his fingers move gracefully across the keys, wearing what looked to be a soft smile from the angle he had, and did not mind the slightest each time the desire to plant a little kiss on that pale throat struck the demon. His own contentment that had peaked off the charts started to ebb as he plucked keys, however much he was enjoying a quiet moment with the only thing he could want for in this world in his arms. His mind kept creeping back to what had transpired, and what he would have to do in a day or two at most... To stepping into his real home and looking at his family with the self-realization he'd just been made aware. That he'd been oblivious at best, and at worst, repeatedly and wilfully disregarding the wants and needs of his closest loved ones for far too long. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
Of course he would say yes... Still, now he actually had to put his apprehensions to voice. “How did Joachim seem to you earlier? While you were play-fighting?”
“Counter-question, why are you not asking him how he feels and instead asking me? Seems like the simplest solution would be to go to the source, yes?”
“Well... I might have, but he sort of ran away the second he laid eyes on me. So I thought I would ask you.”
“I'll stress once more that I was not involved in whatever you had a spat about, and I don't want to be. I am not passing any judgment or making any suggestions.” Trevor reiterated firmly. “If you want my observation, it's just that. Speculation. It's not fact.”
“Understood loud and clear. I will still take your speculation.”
With a great inhale and subsequent sigh, the Hunter ceased leaning against his chest to sit up more straight. “Then in my observation, that is one very exhausted and very troubled demon. I believe he needs rest, much like you needed, to recover his strength, but I do not see a way to convince him to take it. He won't even feed past the first time, and I have openly offered enough. Again, not passing any judgment... But there is something to do with you that has saddened him greatly. I'm not sure it was the fight... I'm not so good at this whole demon method of conversation yet, but by the impression, I feel like it's a longstanding sadness. So... Do with that information what you will. But he probably did run away from you because you strangled him. I would keep my distance if you did that to me.” Trevor shot a look over his shoulder and added, almost like a dare. “After I beat your ass senseless for it.”
“I would never.”
“I didn't believe you had it in you to do it to him, but here we are.” Trevor shrugged. “ I don't want to talk about it. It makes me uncomfortable because I always see the best in you when I look. It makes me uncomfortable as well because everyone has told me left, right and centre that he's crazy and he's dangerous, and to watch my back with him. Yet, so far, Joachim's been the most honest person with me, and while his version of kindness is not always aligned with the human definition of it, he's never been unkind towards me either. I have been shown nothing by his actions that lead me to share those unsavoury opinions the rest of you seem to hold.”
“You are a good friend, Trevor...” Alucard surmised in a sad, guilt-ridden tone. “I regret my actions wholly... For what it is worth, I want to apologize to you too. When I wrongly chose to attack him, I did not mean to hurt you by that same choice either. I am sorry I let you down, and that I assaulted your honest and kind friend.”
“We're all going to live together soon. I don't want constant strife in my home life, if that's not too much to ask. I already had a taste of that living with my aunt. Besides, Joachim's lugging around so much love and patience for you. Even if you did what you did, your mopey grovelling and the fact that you're fishing for information from me tells me you've got a place for Joachim in your heart too. So I don't understand why you can't get just along. I thought you enjoyed having the ground you walked on worshipped?”
“Not quite. I don't need the dirt I tread worshipped, just my person.” It was a predictable attempt at levity that only a vain Dhampyre would make, but it seemed to have worked, pulling a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan out of Trevor. “Look... More seriously... I mean to make more considerate and inclusive decisions upon my return. I have not exactly been my best for a long time now, so your new home life may be a little bumpy to start, and the fault lay exclusively with me. Bumpy at least until I can show that my attempts to make amends is not a passing fancy.”
“Do you need me to tell you when you're being an ass or something?”
“It couldn't hurt. We're talking years and years of poor habits to break, so I don't imagine it will be easy. I'd do the same for you.”
“We have a deal, then. I am trying to be the best version of Trevor Belmont too. You'll let me know when I wow you with my evolution, yes?”
He was laughing before he could even stammer a reply. “What are you talking about?” The best version of Trevor Belmont is any one with a pulse. “You're my favourite person, Trevor. You can't get any greater than you already are to me.”
“It's not for your benefit. I am embarking on this for me, first-most. Any improvements to your situation are welcomed, but not the intent.”
“Duly noted, Sir.” Well, he is certainly fired up about something. I guess it's better than the alternative... The Dhampyre really didn't need to also be reminded right now of the alternative to the unstoppable force that was Trevor Belmont. The last demonstration had ended in complete despairing disaster.
“But thank you.” Trevor added, back to being hushed and soft spoken. Whatever this evolution entailed, it was still an ongoing process. “For always seeing the best side of me no matter what I do. You are my favourite Dhampyre too.”
“I'm your only Dhampyre, Trevor.”
“It's a good thing you're my favourite then. That would have been awkward!”
“Oh, piss off.” Alucard pushed the Hunter off his bench and out towards the edge. “Go make us some tea or something. The milk kind. I can hear my car coming back down the street, and Joachim--”
“--Doesn't like leaf sweat.” Trevor finished, plucking the words straight from his tongue, continuing in an exasperated tone. “Even if tea with milk is technically still leaf sweat!?”
“There are just some things you don't question in life, Trevor. This is one of them.” Alucard threw up his hands before returning them to the ivories below, switching over to yet another cover of Reverie as he watched that little chestnut head disappear out the office door. The melody kept flowing as he heard the Vampyre return, greeted warmly by the Hunter on the threshold like some 1950's sitcom housewife pleased to see her breadwinner return. It wasn't too far a stretch from reality going by the level of doting distinguishable in Trevor's voice, and the notes of his happiness overpowering the myriad of aromas in the dwelling. Alucard waited with a grim expression for his ugly possessiveness to rear, but was left waiting, and both wondering why not this time, and how could he keep it this way? Still waiting for some kind of negative reaction, he listened to Joachim pester Trevor into letting him take over and sending the Hunter back to start re-arranging the minuscule amount of furniture left. “Need a hand?”
“Yes, actually. I was told not to scuff the floor on top of ruining your walls.” Trevor relayed with a sour pout. “I didn't do it on purpose.”
“Of course not.” Alucard soothed, helping the man to hoist the coffee table and next the couch over to face the broad vacant wall of the office. “We all know if you had set out to fuck up the wall, there would be no wall left to speak of.”
“Exactly!” Trevor agreed readily. “I don't do anything half-assed.”
“So what is this all about?” The Dhampyre caved after not getting an explanation for the room rearrangement even after watching Trevor fetch his laptop and the portable projector he had for smaller more intimate seminars and place them on the coffee table.
“Movies.” The Hunter answered, connecting chargers and wires as if he'd done so already once before. “There's not much else to do here besides eating and sleeping. Today we are watching the movies you like. Joachim mentioned that fact as if he were apologizing to me, so now I am very curious.”
“Does our agreement include me being allowed to tell him when he's being an ass?” Still frowning, he sat down on his couch and started curating a small playlist of what he had on his external hard drive with a mind on what wouldn't be absolute torture for Joachim. That meant biographical films were out, as were every single rom-com from the mid-1990's up. Given what had just occurred earlier between them, he didn't exactly believe bittersweet love stories like the Umbrellas of Cherbourg, Black Orpheus and other such films would be a party pleaser either. Plus, he now had to stick it to Joachim, without copping out by picking things he didn't actually like, all while still being a brat. Aha! I'll just pick stuff he doesn't hate but will never admit he likes. As a bonus, nearly everything Alucard queued had fancy costumes, so at least Trevor would be kept entertained.
Tea, popcorn, macaroons and chocolate were all laid out while Alucard finalized his selection with a precise focus on forcing the Vampyre to enjoy a genre he would never go out of his way for. Self-satisfied smirk firmly in place, he leaned back to catch the Vampyre settling in on the extreme opposite edge of the couch, back to the armrest, and one knee half bent along the cushions. The other leg fidgeted mindlessly on the floor until Trevor, wrapped in a broad blanket-like scarf the same colour as his eyes, plopped down between them, pleased as punch to be in their combined company. It bothered him, quite suddenly, that Joachim hadn't met his gaze, but did engage with Trevor easily. Alucard only realized he'd needed reassurance that Trevor still loved him when a hand gave his out-turned one two quick squeezes. It didn't seem like Trevor had even looked directly at him, seeing how he was pouring tea into each cup at the time. Yet, just as he'd promised... He'd known. He was... Always paying attention to Alucard. The hand-squeeze was proof.
His heart did a little loop.
Perhaps it was that safety buffer of Trevor in between them, but at last daring to look in his direction, Joachim asked. “All right, Kitten. What dour melodrama or saccharine love story am I to be subjected to this time? I will tolerate When Harry met Sally and Dirty Dancing.”
“You'll tolerate Dirty Dancing? What about Footloose?” Pausing to peer over Trevor's head, he caught silver eyes with his gold. “Actually, now I'm curious. Can you still do the final dance from Dirty Dancing?”
“Naturally. I can still do Tony's Saturday Night Fever solo dance too. But yes, if you come running to jump at me with the appropriate soundtrack, I can still give you the time of your life.”
“Ha!” The Dhampyre did his best to bite down on his laughter at the thought. “While I promise I'll keep that in mind, I'm sorry to say there's no sexy Patrick Swayze or ultra feminine Jennifer Grey in my picks for tonight.”
“You like Patrick Swayze, Kitten, not me. How many times have I sat through Ghost because of you? For a while there, I was starting to believe you were just trying to tell me that you wanted us to make an urn on the pottery turntable together.”
“And yet you never did take the hint, and I still don't have that sexy urn fantasy fulfilled.”
“Pottery clay is clammy and cold, Kitten. It's not sexy squelching up in all your crevices.” Joachim scoffed, then seemed to think about what he'd just said and suffered a full body shiver, no doubt imagining just such a damp clumpy scenario. Or knowing him, recalling the memory from past experiences. “Tell you what. You find a way to make a warm pot and I will even sing you Unchained Melody while we reenact the scene.”
Poor patient Trevor Belmont, trading looks between them both as he polished off his tea, reached a breaking point, having finally had enough of their antics flying by over his head. Springing up to his feet quite suddenly, he leaned over to pluck Alucard right up off the couch with his freakish Belmont strength and then just dropped him in Joachim's lap. All the while wearing his own self-satisfied smirk. The smarmy bastard even went so far as to let out a self-satisfied noise looking down at his handiwork. “There we are. It occurred to me that this is the sitting arrangement you two would prefer, and I can see already how much happier you both are to be sitting together so... Problem solved.” The mischievous Hunter even went so far as to push Alucard back down when he tried to scramble to his own feet. “I thought I was in charge of you today. Stay put. You look good laying there.”
“I don't recall agreeing to this.” Alucard countered, narrowing his eyes and pulling himself into more of a sitting position so he wasn't once again laying on the Vampyre. He felt like he'd done enough of that since climbing out of his coffin for the foreseeable future.
Trevor tilted his pretty head and studied him. It was perhaps one of the briefest Belmont Pauses on record, but definitely long enough to count as one, as lips were pulled slowly into a wide grin. “That may be true, but you did mention it was pleasurable to do my bidding.” Reminder given, the Hunter placed a hand on the backrest of the couch, the other on the armrest, and leaned over him with a hungry look shining in those lovely blue-grey eyes. “You two are like a matching set. Your features are very complimentary, and you look even more intriguing when paired than individually. Perhaps there is some devilry at work that I am not aware of. Perhaps it is that the seductive spells of allied Desire demons can work in tandem and that would be why I am enjoying the sight of you together so much.” Leaning closer, Alucard almost closed his eyes for the kiss he could have swore was coming. But Trevor held steady, a breath apart and whispered. “I'd like to explore this theory of mine. If you stay where you are, I'll come and join you to study the subject up close. Maybe by the time we are finished watching your movies, I'll have finished my research and may share what I've learned?”
“...O-okay.” Alucard found himself whispering back, transfixed.
It seemed so too was the Vampyre equally under the influence, as he shifted wordlessly with the Dhampyre until they were comfortably sprawled out together for the long-haul with room enough for Trevor to nestle in against them both, before shaking his head in defeat. “That pet of yours is deadly, Kitten. I suspected he would be the more dominant one between you two, but I've come to start second-guessing my own place more and more these days.”
“I have never defeated him once.” Alucard confessed. “Not one single time.”
Casting a glance over his shoulder as he hit the play button, Trevor stated rather boldly. “If you'll join with me and stay by my side, then it doesn't matter that you can't best me, now does it? If you're good, I might let you win the odd round just for a change of pace.” Then with another twinkle in those blazing steel jewels, the Hunter crawled into place between them and for lack of a better word, snuggled in. “Now let's see what kind of stories the Kitty is partial to.”
As the melody of Cabaret's Wilkommen, Bienvenue, Welcome filled the now quiet space in the office, Joachim lightly swatted the back of his head and hissed under his breath. “Don't tell me you chose nothing but musicals?”
Being the complete brat he was, Alucard surrendered to Trevor's whims and the whole situation at hand, resting his head against Joachim's shoulder to enjoy watching Joel Grey's provocative and flamboyant performance. Offering up only a single rebuttal once settled in. “Shut up, you love it.”
*****
It was sometime in the early predawn when Alucard's ears twitched, picking up the soft conversation between a still ragged timbre that should have been richly smooth playing against one feathery light yet dulcet tone he'd not been graced with in nearly a year. The lingering taste of popcorn on his tongue, amber eyes fluttered open to reveal the dark office he'd fallen asleep in curled up in a blanket scarf shared between Trevor Belmont. Playing at a low-volume was Dancer in the Dark projected onto the wall. Unsure when Trevor had dozed off, Alucard remembered he had succumbed himself sometime during Hedwig and the Angry Inch. It wasn't like he was in a particular rush to get up and do anything or be anywhere, so he stayed still, trying to reclaim his dreamscape, but the low chatter made that an impossibility.
“Just as well I didn't buy the plane tickets yet. Who knew Iron Spikes for Jesus was going to be sending a private jet.”
“You can't possibly think it's a great idea to pack him and your new little buddy onto the Church's private jet, can you?”
“It would be worse to say no and then fly on a passenger flight. That is the kind of snub that people like the Iron Maiden never forget. The Ambassador is escorting a very special guest and giving his account of this whole mess directly to the Director herself of his own volition. If she's going to send a private jet to take him and her cronies overseas safely, than we would be prudent to accept the offer. Besides, I believe Kitten's pet human's will be on board as well. Think of it as a farewell party if it helps you sleep better.”
“Daddy, I never lose sleep anymore over the Demon Ambassador. That guy is going to do whatever he wants to do and nothing anybody else has to say will stop him.” The voice on the video call sweetened considerably when the next question was asked. “When are you coming back, is what I really wanted to know.”
“Soon, Angel. There is the matter of killing Genya Arikado and I must also wrap up a few lingering threads in Japan before I will be accompanying Kitten and Bunny to the Church Headquarters as a precaution. I truly do not trust them with the Rabbit, otherwise I would have come straight back to you, I swear.”
“If you have such misgivings, than why are you going at all? Just take the new guy back with you and let the Ambassador carry on as per usual. It shouldn't be too hard to maintain status quo. We'll have a blast while he's kowtowing towards the Iron Maiden.”
“That is not a fair statement to make, Leila. You know better than that.”
“I'm sorry, it's just that I am not exactly her biggest fan. I hate how much deference Alucard displays towards the decisions made over there about his people.”
“It is surprising then that you do not display a more understanding opinion of his position. Do you believe he is any happier to concede so much ground every time they all come to the table? Having all demon and devil eyes on him and knowing there is only so much he is going to be able to accomplish, and of what little he manages, all the thanks he receives is more demands and pressure?”
“Dad...”
“Everyone is so quick to criticize and expound their own posited strategies, but other than your late mother, I have yet to see any other demon step up to the plate on such a global scale.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“When was the last time anyone even said 'thank you' to him for allowing himself to be the face of public scrutiny day in and day out? Nobody appreciates what he goes through.”
“Daddy!” Leila's raised voice finally broke through the Vampyre's hushed tirade. “You're doing that thing you keep doing again.”
“What thing is that, Angel?”
“Projecting onto Alucard. Your fussing over him reaches neurotic levels when you're feeling the ugly messy emotions. So... Are you feeling... Let me guess, underappreciated?” Leila took a stab in the dark. The banshee was accurate, of course, having been able to read her Vampyre caretaker like the back of her hand ever since she was a little girl wrapping the demon around her little fingers. “Whose not appreciating you? Alucard? Tell me you see the logical fallacy in overly concerning yourself with his feelings and comfort when he's the one always upsetting and disregarding yours?”
“I am not projecting. You specifically mentioned your gripe about towing the line with the Church, and I reminded you that the issue is far more complex than a laymen can comprehend.”
“You are correct, and I was wrong to dismiss his hard work just because it never seems to pay off as much as I wish it did. But come on. Your reaction was way too personal.” Leila waited a beat, and when nothing was said, she sighed. “Fess up, already. Was he the one who gave you the shiner on your face?”
“I told you this was nothing but a momentary lapse of spacial awareness.”
“Yeah, you of all people walked into a door.” Leila scoffed, disbelievingly.
“It was a tall door.” The Vampyre chuckled softly at his private joke.
“This is not funny.” The banshee insisted firmly. “We scream and yell at each other all the time but it's never come to blows. I don't even know what to think, but I feel like I should punch him in the face a few times just in case he does have something to do with it.”
“Then do not think about it at all. I am not. There is no pain and I am not concerned about a few bruises. I'll ask you not fly off the handle and deck him the second he walks through the door as well. Nothing is wrong, and if there was, it's over and in the past. Case closed.” Then, considering her a moment, the Vampyre added. “Plus, if we're being honest, Angel, the punches I've seen you throw are even worse than the ones he does. Both of you need to take some lessons before you hurt yourselves with poor form.”
What the fuck..? Unable to take this blatant slight laying down, he half sat up and stared hard at the grinning silver-haired bastard. “I am a motherfucking gentleman. I have no need for such a lesson because I do not punch sense into people, I use my words like a civilized man!”
“Sounds like the kind of poor excuse a shoddy pugilist would give.” The grinning demon shot back. “Good morning.”
What, does he want me to hit him again or something? Slighted or not, he had no desire to swing poorly thrown punches around this early in the morn, so instead he narrowed his gaze and spat petulantly. “Oh, bite me, Joachim!”
For half a second, silver eyes the size of saucers regarded him in stunned silence, but soon thereafter the Vampyre recovered his poise, mischievous expression returning just in time for him to lean in while capturing the back of Alucard's head. “I never believed it would actually happen. So kind of you to offer after all this time! I am quite famished.”
“Hey, quit it!” Embarrassed by his voice almost sounding like a squeal, it still couldn't be helped when fangs were nipping lightly at the side of his throat. Sharp points dragging against his flesh felt as if they'd remained retracted into the Vampyre's gum-line, at least. So while it evidently was an empty threat, it didn't change the fact that Alucard had never once been fed upon by another Vampyre, and until the Lilû incident, never once even been drained of his essence for another's sustenance. Demon instinct was going to have him anxiously scrambling to get away. “Ahh, that feels so weird; it better not be your damn tongue!”
The sound of the phone clattering to the ground succeeded the startled “Ouch!” that came out of Trevor. Joachim must have dropped the phone on him, but Alucard was too busy wrestling the damned demon latched onto his neck to check in on him until he was staring right at the bleary blue-grey eyes watching the whole little display with passive interest. “Are you... Having fun?” The Hunter asked, looking and smelling unsure whether he should intervene or not, yet clearly intrigued by the farcical display.
Why is he looking at me like that? Alucard wondered, watching Trevor quirk his head and begin to twist his lips in vicious amusement. Oh no, of course. “This isn't what it looks like, I swear.” He assured the brunette, hoping he was convinced the Dhampyre was not locked in some amorous embrace with fucking Joachim of all people.
“Really?” Trevor purred, the sound and glint in his eyes absolutely not helping the blush creeping into Alucard's visage. “It looks sort of like you are having a lot of fun to me.”
“I am so hungry, Kitten. Why did you offer yourself if you were just going to play hard to get?” The Vampyre bemoaned as he dislodged, being a good enough actor it actually sounded genuine.
“You know my ways, so what exactly were you expecting? I'm a flirt and a tease, nothing more!” At this point, what was the harm in playing along? “And you're a cad. Don't judge me, buddy, you dropped your kid on the floor chasing my skirt.”
“Dropped... Oh! The thing that hit me is down here.” Trevor's amused face vanished from view as he no doubt bent down to pluck the fallen device off the floor. When he reappeared, phone in hand, the Hunter smiled at the image on the screen, tilting his head as he studied Leila's still face. Lips parting, he asked somewhat reverently. “Wow. What movie is this, Joachim? This woman is very beautiful.”
“Sweet Mother Danu.” Leila's face split wide open, delighting in finally laying her sights on what she would would call fresh meat. “This movie is called 'Help, I'm trapped alone in this house and the Demon Ambassador is sucking up all my Dad's time, so please hurry up and come back here before I die of boredom.' It's a working title.” The banshee beamed, even more so when Trevor flinched back, confused. “Hey, new guy. You look pretty cute too from this low angle. Hold the phone up higher so I can see you better. I suddenly have a sick fascination in knowing what Alucard thinks is hot since you're the new boyfriend.”
“...This movie is weird.” Trevor stated softly, attempting to give the phone back to a Vampyre who quite honestly was only kept from rolling off the couch in laughter due to being pinned between the Hunter and Dhampyre.
He did manage to shove the phone back firmly into Trevor's hands and help the Hunter hold it up appropriately so that Leila could get a good look at him. “It's not a movie. It's a video call. Right now, you're looking at and speaking to someone who is in the Baljhet mountains back in Romania. Technology is amazing, right?”
“S-she is... Real?”
“This is the greatest thing I have seen all year. I'm in love, and yes, new guy. Very real. Trevor, right? I am real, and all those other things I said too. Primarily the part about being horrifically bored. When are you coming back here? You look fun, so I hope it's soon. If the tyrant won't let you leave just tell my Dad you want to go with him. Or say you don't want to go to the Church and just want to come straight here. He'll take you.” The banshee inquired and attempted to influence, leaning closer to her propped up laptop so that the phone's screen was nearly entirely her visage. “That's a pretty sweet looking scar on your face. It's like almost you're entire left side. What's the story there? Is it grisly?”
“You can't just come out and ask people stuff like that.” Alucard cut in, knowing he was risking a blow-out just by even attempting to chastise the girl. He'd done his best to at least keep his tone neutral, and Leila didn't even glance in his direction as far as he could tell. “It's rude.”
“That's all right, I don't mind being asked.” Trevor assuaged her, smoothing over the Dhampyre's indignation. “It's two scars combined, actually.” Using his finger to trace each separate line of the unified scar tissue, the Hunter freely shared. “The first one here Alucard gave me during our first duel. That is how we became friends. The second one happened months later, and was given to me by Dracula. I didn't make a friend after the second time, I'm afraid.” The Hunter joked and Leila tittered in response. Alucard on the other hand... Felt threatened. Trevor had just said she was pretty. “I suppose that father and son shared some of the same moves, and I fell for it twice.”
“Oh, that's too bad.” Leila backed up a bit to tap her lips as she thought. “It sure seems like Alucard has a real problem controlling himself when it comes to hitting people in the face. I'd say that is pretty darn rude of him, wouldn't you?”
“Oh, I am not is a position to judge. I can't seem to help myself when stupid things come out of other people's mouths either.” Flashing a quick smile at Joachim, the Hunter stated softly. “But I have it on good authority that no one is perfect. A trustworthy friend told me so.” Trevor shrugged, refusing to engage in Leila's defamation game effortlessly. “May I ask who I am speaking to?”
“Seriously? Did nobody talk about me this whole six months?” Folding her arms in a pout, Leila tossed her head in a clear show of aggravation. “Well what did I expect from that awful boring bureaucrat? I do not factor into whatever he's got going on over there. Still, just because he hates me, that's no excuse to pretend I'm dead or don't exist when he's not here forced into breathing the same air. Must be real nice, having separate lives you can just jump into when the first one gets too hard or inconvenient.”
“Angel, there is a time and place...”
Joachim warned the girl just as Alucard was folding his own arms and gnashing teeth to grit out in a tight hiss. “I don't hate you, Leila.” I just hate when you act this way, which seems to be every time you lay your eyes on me these days. Although, she's not even looking at me this time. She hasn't once... Is she really so angry with me?
“Angel?” Trevor cocked his head, drawing Leila's attention back towards him before she could unload whatever she had on Alucard, and the Dhampyre was kind of glad for Trevor's snake charming ability right about then for sparing him. Indirectly or not, her ire was starting to get under his skin. “Leila..? Then are you perhaps the other demon who lives with Adrian and Joachim?”
“Ding ding ding! We have a winner! I am, and I live with you too now, I've been told. What's up, new Roomie? Like what you see?” She popped up out of her chair instantly to step back until she was in full view of the camera and twirled. The grey and black stripes of her off-shoulder sweater-dress paired nicely with the burgundy tights she wore, and for the first time in Alucard's life, he looked at the little girl he always saw as small in his eyes objectively as she was currently. A grown woman. Trevor was correct to state that she was pretty... The threatening feeling was intensifying.
To Alucard's surprise however, Trevor's eyes widened as he shook his head, sneaking another glance at Joachim. “Oh... umm. Leila, it's nice to finally be acquainted. I'm afraid you may have misheard me earlier. You see, I would have loved to mention how beautiful I find you, but your father advised me I could only do so under threat of a few broken bones. So I definitely did not say you were beautiful earlier, nor am I mentioning right now how much I love the gold in your eyes and hair. So don't think I did those things, and I'll keep all my limbs intact, all right?” Still half-watching Joachim warily for some kind of follow-through on whatever bone crushing threat he'd promised to deliver, Trevor gave Leila one of his best smiles. “You do seem quite fun to be around, Leila. It is going to be a pleasure to meet you in person.”
The Hunter's hand clasped his and gave two short squeezes. Alucard had twisted his palm out again without even realizing it... But he was glad for Trevor's sixth sense concerning his insecurities, and the subsequent reassurance. The rage quieted down before he'd overflowed. Calm down. He's just being polite. He doesn't know a thing about her. It's not her fault she's not unsightly. She just has good genes.
“Enchanté. I heard you were French, so did that sound all right? Whatever, nice to meet you too, Trevor. Dad told me a lot about you, kind of a little too enthusiastically, so I think he really likes you. Which is great.” The banshee raised her voice to talk over Joachim's choked protests that any Trevor Belmont related rambling had taken place, giving her father a sly devilish grin. “Trevor, since you've never been here, do you want a free pre-visit tour?” The girl was already unplugging her laptop to swing the camera around her bedroom. It was a disorganized mess of various half-completed craft and hobby works, bookmarked novels and photography equipment. Every flat surface had accumulated some kind of pile. “This is my bedroom. It's a bit chaotic in here right now so ignore all the clothes everywhere. Out here is the main floor. My room's down here and Dad has all of the top floor to do whatever weird stuff he does up there. He does a lot of weird things, so you'll have to just get used to that, but I am assuming you've already gotten an idea since he's been over there with you for a while now. Here's the kitchen. Pretty basic and boring right? Maybe I'll show you upstairs first? You should know what you're getting into while you can still back out.”
“Stay out of my chambers, Leila.” Joachim commanded and the girl gave the typical 'yeah yeah' that she usually responded to for such direct instructions.
“Hey, you wanna see the rites room first? Dad I'm showing him the rites. I won't show him the head room, okay? You can have that honour.”
“The... Head room?” Trevor repeated, clearly not quite believing what he'd just heard. The Hunter stood up as the girl walked him through their house, unconsciously pacing the study as she talked and joked about arcane symbols and flipped through an ancient collection of grimoires. Sounding excited to have someone new to speak with, she explained the alchemical ingredients and ritual materials in the antechamber between the room used for rites and Joachim's personal quarters. When she started putting on her coat and boots to walk him around the village square to get an idea of what his new home was going to be like, the Hunter's pacing took him right out of the office to wander the rest of the garden home.
Joachim's hand on his arm held him in place.
“Leave them be. They are going to have to share a space together soon, so they should get to know one another on their own terms. I am pleased thus far that they appear to get along.”
“You are not wrong... I am just concerned she'll--”
“You are never concerned with Leila, Kitten, unless it is in relation to how she'll affect your plans for the day. So you will hold your tongue unless she truly does step out of line with him. But I do not foresee that she will, and I do wish you'd stop waiting around just to rub her nose in it when she makes a mistake.”
“I do not take pleasure in chastising her, and I am only concerned because she does not have the best social skills--”
“Just whose fault is that, Adrian?”
Ouch.
The Dhampyre fell silent and let Joachim's frown die out naturally, until the greater demon folded his knees up to his chest and hugged them, looking away. He looked rather delicate in that position wearing such a troubled expression, so much so that Alucard had a sudden and baffling protective urge. Imagine that, Joachim needing his protection? “That was... uncalled for.”
“She won't even look at me right now to give me the chance to correct her even if I wanted, but to be honest what you said... It's not uncalled for.” Alucard admitted painfully. “I had that one long coming... But I didn't expect it out of you, Joachim. You're usually relegated to keeping the peace, but here you are defending me against her unfair words, and now her against mine. So you know I must ask... What's eating you?”
“Nothing can eat me, Kitten. I am a mighty and ferocious demon.” The Vampyre muttered, sounding quite the opposite of his claim. Uncharacteristically, his aura was all over the place, and not just by nature of the intentional web he laid out to protect his charges. It flared out seemingly beyond his ability to clamp down upon, sending out uneasy and uncertain signals in the impressions Alucard was able to pick up with his handicap. Even his scent was escaping with hints of his underlying emotions seemingly beyond control. “Stop looking at me like I am one of your charity cases, Kitten. I'll run miles around you yet.”
A charity case, huh? He lifted his eyes from the Vampyre's hugged knees to meet his gaze, finding exactly what Trevor had speculated and shared when asked prior. You are one exhausted demon, Joachim. It's not too much a stretch to assume you were speaking the truth about being famished as well... But how can I help you? I have half-human blood in me, but I don't even know if that will sate you. Or if I could even stand to... Offer myself that way. The longer he looked, the more unsettling it became. Joachim used his precise control over his scent and aura much like a rattlesnake's audible warning. Letting a whiff of wariness show you when he was prepared to attack you back if you tried anything. Or a hint of pleasure when he wanted to encourage your current action. Always by his design and choice. Now that the Vampyre's control on his body and mind was wavering... “Are you okay?”
“Don't patronize me.”
“I am not trying to...” Sighing bitterly, he tried to come up with an alternate approach.
“What do you mean this Santa sees us when we're sleeping? Why does this Santa need to know when I am awake or what I am doing? How is he accomplishing such a feat, watching everyone in the world at all times? What purpose does this serve?” Trevor's suspicious tone drifted into the room as his wandering phone call took him passed the office door.
Leila could be heard giggling away at the Hunter's indignation over the Jolly Fat Man deciding whether he was naughty or nice. She must have walked him by the decorations in the village fountain square for that topic to have been broached. For some reason, a village full of pagans had collectively decided that Christmas, the commercialized and nonreligious version of it at least, was a suitable celebration to take place alongside Yuletide rites. Alucard never questioned the logic too harshly, as the children seemed to like the idea of a magickal Santa dispersing gifts.
The conversation snippet caught Joachim's attention as well, and the demon unknowingly let his full guard down as he listened to the younger pair's exchange. While he smiled softly, Alucard could see the full toll the fatigue was taking on him by his expression alone. That Leila and Trevor were getting along swimmingly thus far was such a relief because... Joachim did not have it in him at the moment or in his current state to put up with one more problem. He was too exhausted. He was likely starved... He needed to rest.
All right, that much is clear. But how do I convince you of that?
Joachim would not punish him for his cruel outburst and abuse in the kitchen. He would not accept any more apologies for things he'd already forgiven. What he was committed to doing, however, was spreading out his energy thin, maintaining complex incantations and seals in a bid to protect those of his 'pets'. He was committed to caring after an ungrateful Dhampyre and his more grateful human lover. Committed to settling the mundane and mind-numbing affairs involved in putting a false identity to rest without raising suspicions. Committed to all the administrative work that task and moving a demon and his dangerous magickal artifacts across the ocean entailed. Seemingly committed to do all this for that ungrateful Dhampyre at the expense of his own health. And so, since he would not let Alucard prostrate or punish himself for his past misdeeds... There was only one thing left to attempt, if he meant to try and start re-balancing the scales between them, and paying his dues. Hopefully, his offer would be accepted as there was really only one way that this debt could start being reduced.
The Vampyre's telling lack of ability to keep his wariness out of his scent encouraged Alucard to follow his chosen course of action, so he curled an arm around those hugged knees and gently pulled the greater demon's legs out of his way, letting his feet slide to the floor instead of the couch cushions. Now there was space to slide right back up against the Vampyre's side. It was intimate, and far too much casual touching for Alucard's taste, but he had it on good authority that this was how Desire demons preferred to talk... All up in each others business. They sat in a still face-off, each with an arm and side braced against the armrest sizing one another up. It only further confirmed what Alucard already knew. The Vampyre was at his limit. His prickliness and irritability all stemming from his fatigue and hunger. Alucard was not allowed to come out and say that, though. He was a demon. He knew you could not show weakness to other demons without risk of being devoured. Well... You would think that demons on good terms with one another could do so, but these instincts were hardwired. It was death otherwise. So no, even with his dying breath, Joachim would not give an inch on that matter. He'd die on his feet if need be. Alucard could not ask the demon to admit weakness... But he could offer a gift.
“I would like to do something for you.” He began, rushing to finish what he was going to propose before the Vampyre shut him down, incorrectly believing he was still trying to make amends for the beat-down. “Something nice... And something that only I can do for you. To say thank you, for all the things you do for me.”
“You are sharing your time with me, Kitten. That's all I ask of you. I do not require a gift.”
“Nobody needs a gift, Joachim, they just receive them. That's why they are called gifts and not dues.” It was going to be a hard sell, that was a fact he was prepared for. But there had to be a way to phrase what he had in mind without causing offence or raising the demon's defence. Perhaps a way that also paid lip service to the years of tutelage – Unwanted or not?
Yes... I think this will work. Without waiting for the elder Moroi to even accept his offer, Alucard drew on all of the energy he'd amassed since his renewal. There was a lot more than expected, but then again he was not using such a large portion of his reserve to conceal the stones within any longer. At a later date he would examine just how much energy he'd been locked away from... It was possible hiding the Crimson and Ebony stones from the world at large for so long may have had some positive effect on his power. Perhaps he'd residually absorbed from energy from them... Or the Castle. Either was a possibility. The point was, that he felt strong. More powerful than he could ever recall, and he was still on the path to physical recovery. I believe I can do this no problem then. Running it over in his mind one last time, he reevaluated. Maybe.
His own essence spread out, tracing along the Vampyre's webbing coating the neighbourhood. Every tendril weaved through refuse bins, tree branches, park benches, corner store, backyard and bedroom. There was even a particular house down the road seven lots that the Vampyre had nearly as locked down as their own garden home. Everywhere Joachim was watching, Alucard slowly became aware of as well, until his inner purview was complete. It was... A lot bigger of a job than originally assumed, and it had not been his intent to underestimate Joachim's efforts. The drain was massive, being aware and on alert of so many comings and goings. The feedback dizzying and overwhelming, although not as panic-inducing as being flooded with another's complex emotions, thankfully. As he clawed his way to clarity, he became aware of Joachim staring at him with those slightly widened eyes once more, and because the demon was exhausted, his scent betrayed his concern.
“Kitten what are you doing? I've got it covered.” When the Dhampyre held steady to his own giant weave of protection, the Vampyre even reached out to give him a shake. “That's quite impressive. I still have not solved the puzzle explaining how you've gained so much strength in such a short time, but I acknowledge that you have, if that is your point. You are still recovering in other ways, so rest, Kitten. I have it.”
“I have, haven't I.” Alucard agreed. “Why do you have so much energy invested in that house down the road? What's so interesting about the lady who lives there?”
Joachim quirked his head, caught off guard by the question. “Well...” Now that was rare, to see the Vampyre fumble for words to explain. “The couple that live there are trying to have a baby, but the husband only gets home after a long night shift and he was frequently too exhausted to do the deed. So I decide to help them out by giving him a little... Boost of energy when he comes home. That's all.”
“Are you for real?” Alucard blurt out before he could stop himself.
“I've enjoyed all the child rearing we've done over the years, unlike you. There's nothing wrong with zapping some oomph into an overworked salaryman so he can enjoy the same pleasure.”
“We didn't rear any children together outside of Luna. We've had understudies and apprentices, but they weren't our kids, Joachim. Not a single one.” The Dhampyre clarified. This wasn't where he wanted this conversation to go at all.
“Why are you leaving out Leila?”
“I think Leila would tell you to leave her out of this too.” Closing his eyes to briefly pinch the ridge of his nose, he continued. “This is not what I wanted to focus on. I wanted to ask you if you can see my flows clearly? If you are able, then you can see that they are just as precise as yours. You agree, right?”
While his lips parted to answer, Joachim hesitated until his aura both near and far first slid against his younger counterpart's, testing the bonds for any sign of weakness or gap in coverage. The scrutiny actually made Alucard feel prouder when the Vampyre found his effort satisfactory. “They are, Kitten. Next time I lament that you never listen or learn from me, remind me of this time. You have clearly paid attention to some things.”
That brought a smile out of the Dhampyre he allowed to flash openly. “Thank you. Even when I am giving you a hard time, you are still an excellent teacher.” Truthful flattery delivered, it was time to close the deal. “In this task, I have proven that I can match you. So this is my gift to you, Joachim.” He had the demon's whole attention, and leaned in gently to meet his gaze on the same level. Because Desire demons touched all the time, so did he, clasping their hands and holding tight in a bid to be as demon about his offer in hopes it would tip the scales enough to be accepted. “I want you to take a break.”
“You're kidding.”
It's fine, I was expecting him to put up a fight and refuse. But you reek of instability, old friend. You're close to the limit.
“You have made your point Kitten. We are equally matched here, although I can see it is far more draining for you than I to maintain these weaves. So please cease your showmanship. You are still recovering, and you need to rest.”
“Aren't you also?” The Dhampyre countered, pushing ahead before the Vampyre had even finished flinching back. “The Lilû drained you dry and yet you've been at all this since. That was weeks ago. I heard straight from the blood-bank himself that you only fed on him once, and I happen to know for a fact that you eat like a bird when feeding consensually. So you likely only took enough to keep on your feet, and it was a while ago at that.”
“I am ancient, Kitten. I don't have your constant hunger to contend with.”
But you said you were starved earlier, and I don't think you were lying, Joachim. He couldn't say though, so instead he played along with the power fantasy. “You're correct. You are indeed older and stronger, and less handicapped than I in many regards. I am not arguing that. So you're fine. You could keep going for a while then?”
“Of course.”
“Than I am not doing you a favour by offering to take over this duty for a small while. I am gifting you the opportunity to take a break, trust in me to use what you taught me, and perhaps get a little meditative rest in. Not because you need me to do it, but because I want to do it for you. It's my gift.” Preparing the coup de grace, he softened his features considerably and reached out to bring their foreheads together, sliding lower until instinct and habit took over, and Joachim lifted into place so that he could complete the little act of trust. Alucard tipped his chin upwards slowly, locking them into that intimate nuzzle. It may have been a long time since he willingly engaged in the act, but with a demon kiss now in place, he whispered affectionately. “I am hurt... You really don't want to accept my gift?”
Maybe it wasn't exactly nice to play the Vampyre like that, but it did yield results. An unreadable expression was worn on the face that broke away from his demon kiss, but the scent off the tired demon gave everything away anyway. Joachim was a touch unnerved by his offer, as he was touched in general. Alucard's demonstration of concern was well received, even if the sweet perfume was clouded by notes of suspicion and stress. The stress could be explained away as just the wear and tear on an exhausted body that could no longer hide it's fatigue while the suspicions... Would be entirely because Alucard did not generally show overt concern for Joachim. That was entirely his fault for being a less than stellar friend and Joachim had every right to be suspicious of his sudden act of kindness and sweet words. Even so, the Vampyre's webbing started to unravel slowly, as if testing to see if the Dhampyre was playing some kind of prank on him. They sat in the stillness of the room while knot after knot was plucked free, the aroma of distrust slowly ebbing as Alucard maintained his flows and proved he was earnest. Then something went wrong, and Joachim's gradual yield suddenly snapped.
Alucard stared stunned at the hushed movie projected onto the wall for what felt like eons. In his arms, caught mid-fall from the couch, was an semi-conscious ancient and deadly Vampyre... Entirely defenceless. This is... New. There was no powerful aura suffocating the room as there should be. There was no Force of Will just waiting in the wings to slam down upon them and force obedience. There were no unflinching silver eyes gauging everything around them, or silver tongue to spew riddles whose poignancy would be the reward for solving them. There was only a frail and still shape in his grip, harbouring a spiritual reserve so faint, he could scarcely detect it. This is new, and not the fun kind of fresh experience.
Rationalizing to keep from the panic that he'd somehow broken the Vampyre, he went over all the reasons he had wanted to give Joachim this moment of rest in the first place. With them all in mind then logically... This made sense. Even if he'd never seen the Vampyre weak and helpless before, it made logical sense for him to have succumbed like this to bone-weariness. Alucard still had grim memories of the Demon Wars and of the trenches and skirmishes for years that had lead up to it. During the war he had both observed and suffered the same experience. Being alert, on guard, ready for action... Running on adrenaline and fear. Pushing through what you'd never have believed in times of peace you could because if you didn't, someone else would have to for you. So you did it. But when that signal was given that you were done for that brief respite... Sometimes you just gave out. After all, you had only still been standing because you believed no one else could. So there wasn't a need to panic at all... The demon was just tired. He'd needed a break from the trench warfare. That's all.
Alucard was just settling them back comfortably against the back and arm rests when a feeble struggle took place to be free of his hold. It was such a strange experience, noting the unfettered scents of alarm, anger and then shame entirely out of the control of the ancient creature known for stoicism. Shame was beginning to drown out all the other notes on the air until something flashed in the lidded silver eyes staring up at him and then all he could smell was bitter and morose. A scent so myriad and complex that it brought only one thought to mind. Wounded pride. Unattainable dreams. Waning strength. Terrible fatigue. This thick guilty scent belonged to none other than one suffering from a sense of failure. Joachim felt defeated, and the exhausted demon now had nowhere to hide that.
I have never seen him like this. With good reason, as well. This was a faux-pas if there ever was one for the demon on the top of the food chain. In Joachim's eyes he'd just dropped the ball. The precise demon who did everything perfectly to the letter... It's not shameful to need help though. How do I get you to give yourself a break? Whether he liked it or not, Alucard was now, temporarily at least, fully in charge in the hierarchy dance. So he would have to handle keeping them safe, and providing comfort and stability for the ones under his care. Was this not what he'd offered when he'd chosen to gift the elder demon respite? Maybe he hadn't considered having to cover the whole kit and caboodle, but if that was what was required? It's not like the Vampyre was in any condition to retake the reins.
“Close your eyes and meditate. I've got you, Joachim. I will use what you taught me to keep you both out of harms way. You can trust me.”
“...A-apolo...gies.”
“Shh...” He soothed, folding the other demon up in his arms and under his chin. Because it was the most comfortable way to lay, he let his own head rest on top of the one buried in his collarbones. “You do not like it when I apologize for things I cannot control, so don't be guilty of doing the same.” He chided gently. “When that Lilû drained my essence I was out of it for days. It's truly impressive you got right back on your feet after a similar encounter. When you have finished your restorative meditation, I would like you to share with me how you managed that. I think it will be a useful lesson.”
“This is... so...” The Vampyre murmured, too weak to finish his sentence.
In the blue glow of the projector light, Alucard could see the tips of the Vampyre's ears were red. They were also hot to the touch when he reached out to examine them, a feat easier said than done considering how much twitching they did to stay out of his grasp. Until experiencing his own fever a few days ago he would have never suspected, but the reddened and heated flesh did make him wonder if Vampyre's really could catch colds after all. Joachim's brow was normal, and there was no feverish flush to be found looking at his face. Just the ears. The pointed end of one he toyed with absentmindedly while he pondered what it could mean, and if he should be worried further.
“...St-stop...” A weak voice begged. Was the Vampyre having visions while lost in this fatigue induced state?
“So these Sentai then combine all their robots into a big super robot?” Trevor's voice distantly carried. He must have been pacing in the bedroom.
“Yes, exactly!” Leila explained gleefully, her excited tone clearer than Trevor's.
Considering he had his hands full and their conversation sounded innocent enough, Alucard ignored them in favour of checking the demon in his arms for anything else of concern. Given the weak aura in Joachim, Alucard had to only slide his own around the limp body to pick up the impressions he needed. Pleased to confirm there was no injury... Just fatigue. That meant all that was required was rest, and Alucard could hold the fort until then. Tucking Joachim up in more comfortably, he settled in to watch the tail end of Dancer in the Dark, idly petting his charge because that seemed like the kind of activity that normal Desire demons engaged in. For today, Alucard was going to be on his best demon behaviour.
In time he closed his eyes, listening to faint nonsense chatter between Trevor and Leila all the while keeping tabs on the mess in his arms. Joachim had slipped into a deep meditative state and even when softly prodded, could no longer respond verbally. It was for the best, and the Dhampyre felt a strange sense of pride that a powerful entity like Joachim had relented to trusting him to keep them all safe, just as he said he would. The quiet solitude gave him time to contemplate the Leila issue. If the lines of communication were so broken she couldn't even stand to look at him, he wasn't exactly sure how to start bridging that gap with her upon his return. He had time to think about what he'd overheard as well. It sounded like Eliza was sending a private jet to collect Julius and Yoko, and that the offer had been extended towards his party as well. Obviously the Church wanted to secure the safe passage of the new species of demon that the Demon Ambassador was personally invested in. Especially one who claimed to have the surname Belmont. Perhaps that had been Joachim's idea all along. Get them invested enough they'd have tails and all hands on deck security wise until Trevor was delivered. It seemed like the Coven wanted to stay in shadows enough to not mess with the Church.
It was a click and a low flash that opened his eyes, revealing Trevor standing in the doorway with Joachim's phone. “Like that?” He asked, but it wasn't directed at the Dhampyre.
“Yeah, now open this here. See this icon? Click... You should see my name, right?” Trevor nodded and confirmed he did. “Then attach it and send. The icon looks like this. Got it?”
“I think so.” Trevor tilted his head and waited for Leila's next prompt.
“Ahh, I got it! Good job! Thank you so much, Trevor. This is premium blackmail material right here.” The banshee mused, proud of whatever off-colour deed she'd just recruited poor Trevor into. “Do you mind asking your boyfriend what's wrong with my Dad? I was expecting him to jump up and pretend there was nothing to see by now.”
When Trevor padded closer to point Leila's camera in their direction, Alucard found himself holding a finger up to his lips in a request for the pair to tone it down a few notches. “It's nothing major... He is just exhausted and needs to rest. Please keep it down until he's done.”
Leila still refused to look at him or acknowledge he was speaking to her, instead softly asking in a general fashion for anyone within earshot to oblige her. “Can you bring me closer to him so I can say goodnight properly? It's probably best to call it a night, or morning, or whatever here anyway.”
Instinctively, Alucard reached out and plucked the device from Trevor's hand, pointing it so that Leila had a clear view of Joachim curled up against him. It wasn't intentional to also be in frame, but there was no way to get around that considering how close they were entwined. He even brushed the Vampyre's hair out of the way so that Leila could look upon his face. “Here...”
Gold eyes ran over her father's form before she smiled. It was an expression that seemed a little sad. Maybe she was just missing him that much after so many weeks. They were rarely apart for long stretches of time, after all. “Stay safe, Daddy. I love you.”
Perhaps it was all the stress getting to him as well. Or the fact he was so stretched thin holding the fort, he'd had a loose grip on his tongue. But when he'd meant to open his mouth and bid the girl on the other line a simple and neutral good night, instead what came out of him was the raw ugly truth that Leila didn't want to hear. Instead of wishing her a good night or to stay safe herself, he instead whispered back softly. “I love you too.”
Gold eyes locked on his. Then the call cut. Alucard sat there staring at the black screen, pondering just how much damage his mindless words had caused. The truth did not always set one free.
“Are you okay?” Trevor whispered, mindful of Joachim, as he slipped into place at his side. “There was an intensity I felt in those goodbyes.”
Such a perceptive young man, that Trevor Belmont. “I am all right. It's nothing new.” He lied. It was true they were frequently antagonistic towards each other, but Leila had never been that hellbent on pretending he didn't exist before. “Did you make a new friend?” he asked instead to distract. “She was sweet towards you?”
“She seems fun.” Trevor repeated his earlier assessment. “The village looks beautiful too. The lights strung up all around are so pretty. I asked to see this lab of yours but she told me you would show me yourself. It doesn't seem like she wanted to talk about you at all.” Trevor relayed softly, sounding almost apologetic. With an idle hand he reached out to pet Joachim's still form, studying his slackened features. “He needs to eat, right?”
“It would help if he did.” Alucard agreed. Was he trying to get Leila to talk about me? Whatever for?
Nodding and catching his attention, Trevor pulled Joachim out of his arms and instead into his own, man-handling the Vampyre until he could comfortably lay the larger body against his slight frame, silver head on a shoulder, within neck biting range. “Hey, dinner's ready. Eat up before you expire.”
Still deeply embedded in his meditation, the Vampyre managed to lift a hand to the side of Trevor's face, cupping it gently as he managed a single low response. “No.”
“There is no reason to be so stubborn. I am perfectly fine and healthy, so there's no reason to refuse. Why are you making me worry about you after I just got done worrying about Adrian? Do you think it's fun for me? Have you considered that if you don't take care of yourself, I am going to get all mopey about you instead? You hate that, right? Me laying around overcome with sadness and guilt. I'll wonder what I did to make you so repulsed by me you won't even eat when you're starving to death.” The Hunter laid it on thick. “Imagine the shock to my self-esteem. How am I not even good enough for a free meal?” Catching the hand Joachim had placed on his face, Trevor slid it into place around the back of his neck, giving the Vampyre the anchor needed to pull himself those last few inches closer to sink his teeth into the waiting artery. “Don't tell me you're refusing because you no longer like me? That will really hurt my feelings.”
However petulantly Trevor phrased his argument, Joachim gave in to him. Eyes closed and still semi-conscious, he latched on, pulling a hiss out of the Hunter who put up no resistance. Alucard found himself balling his fists up tightly, watching the love of his life just put out for another lifeblood sucking Desire demon without any consideration for his feelings. Of course Trevor's intentions were pure. His offer no different than the one Alucard had made for the exact same reasons as well. Joachim was tired, hungry and in need of some pampering. Their combined gift was the complete cure-all he required to heal, and in a few hours time he'd be back on his feet as if nothing had happened. It was wrong to think of the act in such a fashion, but knowing it was wrong did not change the fact that he felt like he was watching his beautiful Hunter cheat on him with another man.
It was nothing to him. A chore. Joachim had claimed when he confessed to feeding on Trevor.
Sure enough, it didn't appear to be that Trevor was in the throes of ecstasy being chomped on by the Vampyre, rather the opposite. There was a grimace he was fighting to keep concealed, just as Alucard could hear the change in Trevor's breathing. No the soft wet pants of pleasure, but the deep and methodical rhythm of someone trying to keep calm or mitigate pain. The sight laid out before him was strangely becoming sort of fascinating. Alucard had never seen a human be fed upon who was not also under the influence of a Vampyric or other Desire demon seduction.
“Are you all right?” The Dhampyre asked, uncertain if he'd appreciate knowing the answer. “You don't look or sound how you do when I feed off of you...”
“His fangs are a lot longer.” Trevor revealed openly. “It does sting without all the passionate accoutrements that generally come from letting you feed off of me. There is also my own instinct to contend with. Without being seduced by your spell, my body knows it is being consumed, and everything responds accordingly.” Trevor stole a glance at him but darted his eyes away once he realized Alucard was looking back at him. “Can I tell you something since I don't want there to be anything between us any more?”
“You can tell me anything...” Alucard replied, reaching out to run his hand through Trevor's hair soothingly. He didn't like watching Trevor squirm uncomfortably like this.
“The other time he let me do this for him, I started to panic a bit. I am a Vampyre Hunter and here I am, feeding a Vampyre. I had to... Pretend. To get through it without attacking him back.”
“Pretend..?”
“Yeah...” Trevor stole another glance, face flushed, but pushed through it to keep confessing. “You two are practically the same in height. You're more muscular than him, but his shoulders are broad enough for it to be a close enough substitute. When I closed my eyes I could pretend it was you, so that's how I got through it.”
So when you were offering yourself to him this way... You were thinking only about me? Alucard's fists relaxed and he flexed them while he rolled the confession over in his mind. Then does that mean..? Gently pulling Trevor back against his body, he curled a stabilizing arm around the Hunter's cinched waist and ghosted a question by his ear. “Would you like me to help you pretend I am the one feeding on you this time?”
At Trevor's behest, Alucard leaned it to run his tongue over the left side of the Hunter's neck, planting his signature kiss after each lap. With his free hand he caressed a thigh, stomach, chest, and played with chestnut hair. His lips traced the shell of a round ear, dipping inside to give pleasure there. The Hunter eased completely into his grip, becoming little more than putty. Gone were all the traces of pain from his visage, as the Hunter surrendered willingly to his spell. Long after Joachim was done, and they'd lain the still Vampyre across them both, the Dhampyre and Hunter stayed locked in their little dance. Kissing and petting one another in a make-out session more suited towards a couple of horny teens. By the time Trevor had nestled in to fall back asleep, Alucard was more or less over the jealousy. The Dhampyre was still horny as hell and furious his itching nerves were adamantly denying him the use of his dick. He stared down at his full lap of resting pretty people and glowered.
Seven plots down the road a weary salaryman trudged through the snow after having gotten off at the bus stop on the corner. Through his protective web, Alucard felt the exhausted man climb inside his dwelling and disrobe, collapsing with nothing left into his futon. Beside him, his wife rolled over and it seemed like she was both understanding but disappointed. There had been a hopeful energy to her, like she was expecting something great. Joachim had said they were trying to have a baby earlier. Perhaps she was keeping track of her cycle and this was a potential ovulation day? Alucard wasn't the expert on this by any means, and was just speculating to kill the time. Regardless, the husband appeared to be too tired... So the Dhampyre gave him a shot of essence to rejuvenate him a touch. He stopped focusing on them to give them their privacy when he felt the man climb into his wife's futon.
Godspeed, Good Sir.
At least one of them should get laid.
Notes:
Hello Everyone! A few notes and then a holiday well-wish.
First, I did not pull Leila out of my butt, but I did pull everything else about her from there. She is a deep cut from Castlevania B-side Lore.
Second, the chapter lengths are probably staying veeeery chonky going forward. The flow seems to demand beefy chapters.
Third, if anyone is curious, if I had to say, (based on my notes) we are about 60-70% done this story. This is the more dodgy and dangerous part, cause I have to pull stuff together without having written myself into a hole. We are definitely in the last "arc" so to speak. This all started as practice for writing, and now I am facing the dragon with my makeshift sword and shield.
Since this is all going to have to be carefully plotted combined with beefy chapters, I believe the updates will probably stretch out longer than they have been. Not like the huge 1 year hiatus I had early on, I promise. But maybe 3-4 weeks depending.
So with that all said, I wanted to thank you all for sticking with me. I want to thank all the newbies who jumped on the wagon once it got rolling again. I want to thank the people who always encouraged me with their comments and hot-takes. And I would like to wish you a good December 2023 regardless of whether you have a celebration in here or not, and a happy New year just in case I don't check in before that.
Stay toasty!
Chapter 48: Last Night in a Strange Land
Notes:
I am opening up the floor to my readers. As you've noticed, everyone on the Demon messager App has their own unique handle. ie: Yoko = YoBear & Hammer = Hambone. I have two characters that I have not picked out handles for; Julius & Joachim (Trevor has one already chosen for later) I am taking suggestions to help choose an appropriate one for the J's
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Bargain Inn, Shinjuku Ward Tokyo
Having found out pretty much nothing online, offline, or from mysterious 'connections' about one Alpha Rhysand, a supposed Manbeast leader mixed up with the High Priestess Estefania, Julius had instead spent all his free time listening to the sermons of this Elder Erwin instead. A given seeing how his was the other name the young witch Sabrina had dropped when prodded about people around Estefania's sphere of influence. A self-proclaimed Shaman of Eurasian descent, Elder Erwin had no known place of residence, seemingly always on the move or broadcasting from out of an undisclosed, frequently changing location. And boy did he like to broadcast.
There were thousands of video sermons of his online, produced what looked to be at all different levels of professionalism and proficiency. Some were shaky cellphone cams, while other's polished and edited with finesse. Yoko hated to admit it, but having listened to the man – courtesy of Julius' new obsession – prattle on as background noise for the past several weeks, she was finding it a little disturbing how both calming Elder Erwin's voice was, as well as how much she agreed with his message. At a surface level, at least. It seemed like just basic common sense, goodwill towards your fellow men, all supported by esoteric teachings and a selection of various religious texts curated carefully for each core lesson he was addressing in a particular video. The underlying feeling Yoko could not shake however was that it was too curated... too perfect. Almost like no matter what creed or faith you followed, the man had something of yours to support his.
Decidedly, it seemed more like a grift to Yoko's ears. Or it would have, if Jules hadn't failed to find any way to donate to the 'cause'. Elder Erwin seemed self-funded and he never asked for a collection. There was never a call to open your hearts via your wallet to help him spread his message. There was no way to send him money on any of his websites or affiliated media either. So on the surface... It seemed like he was just doing it for the fame or perhaps even... Out of genuine goodwill towards human and demonkind and a dream of a better future.
Except for the fact that apparently High Priestess Estefania was afraid of Elder Erwin finding out she was trying to reach the Castle. Which meant this man also knew something about the Castle. Was he another Graham Jones or Celia Fortner? Were these crackpots being manufactured in a factory the Church was just not aware of or something? It was getting kinda ridiculous!
Yoko gave a sigh of relief when Julius finally decided he'd listened to enough sermons of Elder Erwin for the day and shut off his tablet in favour of his phone. It was practically Yule, after all. Her ears deserved a break.
To be quite honest, it didn't exactly feel real yet, this holiday season supposedly filled with good tidings and peace on Earth for all humankind. And while she was not a child as well as having been back and forth between her homeland and Japan these past two years, this was still markedly going to be the first time in her life that she risked not being present with her family for Yuletide festivities. Her sisterhood, precisely. Not to knock her newfound cousin and double-score grandpas. Or umm... Her twofer grandpa's freaky Vampyre handler, which she guessed she had to include since finding out he was demon husbandos with Alucard. Depending on how much more grilling during round three she and Jules were to suffer through once they got back to HQ, they would probably both miss out on whatever celebrations each had planned even if the Iron Maiden's jet arrived tomorrow. Yes, everyone would of course understand why, but her stomach would never forgive her for missing out on all the feasting. Plus she like super low-key had been fantasizing about inviting Hammer for the first time. Really put his professed love for her to the test by subjecting him to like a hundred Aunties and cousins.
Given the newfound link between Belnades and Belmont, their claims confirmed irrefutably in black and white by the Church's genetic testing and the Belnades extensive records, Yoko was also holding out hope that she could talk Jules into attending as well to really welcome him to his sisterhood-by-proxy. Hell, why not go the whole ham and invite Grandpa and Step-Grandpa along for the ride as well? Welcome all the old and newfound family members in one go? Yoko dug huge parties, and she had seen Jules get down on the dance floor more than once. The old Hunter had moves... And hips that don't lie.
Staring at the Hunter in question, perched as he was around her cramped desk set-up in the sparse accommodations of her tiny hole in the wall rented room, she flopped lazily onto her equally cramped bed with a long suffering sigh and decided right then and there that Julius Belmont was in some serious need of festivities. “Jules.” She prodded to wrest his dark glowering attention away from his phone screen, while the man balanced a throwing knife on the tip of his index finger. “Are we really going to spend our penultimate days in Japan staring at the ceiling of this cheap hotel listening to endless online lectures from a maybe cult leader?” Not to knock the budget hotel that had been their base of operations for two years, but it was sparse, cramped, and being clean was really all it had going for it. “We're not under house arrest thanks to you. Very huge thanks, by the way.”
“I do have a vested interest in not being found guilty of misappropriating field-service funds.”
“Honestly, saaaame. Happy to have wriggled out of that, even though you can't deny that us being left in this frugal location while the rest of our coworkers get to stay in the classy-ass hotel with the swimming pool, gym, rooftop bar, and swanky conference rooms is in itself a form of punishment. I suspect petty revenge on behalf of the Financial Advisor for causing an expensive investigation in his department.”
“I would count ourselves lucky we're still on payroll while the investigation into Gramps and Alucard is underway.”
“Good point, but why aren't you at least invited to the fancy hotel? You are literally banging the boss.” Yoko narrowed her eyes before sitting up abruptly. “No, don't tell me. Is this how she keeps you coming back to her lizard-person embrace? She only pampers you on her time?” Leaning forward to delight in the flat stare Julius was giving her, she ventured further down the rabbit hole. “Jules, be straight with me. Are you like honey-potting her for her money? Honey-dicking? However you wanna phrase it?”
“I know this is going to be extremely difficult for you to believe, but I actually do love her. She has been there for me in my worst times.” For a moment there, Julius actually had her feeling warm and gooey over Eliza of all people. Then he added in a rushed mumble. “Plus we're going to retire to her luxury villa on the Amalfi Coast in a few years.”
“You con-artist!”
“I really love Liza, I promise.”
“You love Italian wine and olives, you hustler!” She retorted without missing a beat. “But you know what? It's fine. I accept your gold-digging ways because you are my family. And if Iron Liza is going to be my family because of your cushy retirement plans then... She is also welcome to the Belnades Yuletide celebrations, okay.”
“What are you blathering on about, Yoko?”
“Yuletide.”The sorceress stressed. “I am formally inviting you and Eliza to my Coven's festivities. It will wrap up before Christmas hits so she can spend that with her family. I just want you to have the opportunity to get a taste of yours.” Sighing loudly and long once more, she added glumly. “If we get back on time and can even get away for the holidays with this whole ongoing investigation.”
“Oh...” Julius blinked his bleary red-rimmed eyes at her a few times, looking genuinely taken aback. “That's actually... Well, it sounds quite nice. A lot better than Chinese take-out and some lukewarm beer to wash it down.”
“Right?” Feeding off his apparent interest, she revealed the depths of her fantasy Hero's Return. “Given how there will be a hundred give or take Church Arcane Specialists on site, Dracula's slayer, and possibly the freaking Iron Maiden herself, if she accepts... Do you think if Alucard is well enough he would come and bring Grandpa? I know he gets a little weirded out by the fangirling that goes in hand with half of my family. Our family. No, actually, considering it seems like he's fixing to marry Trevor Belmont, his family.”
“Well... Considering Alucard has demonstrated in no uncertain terms that he would literally die with or for Gramps... I would advise just asking Trevor. Alucard will fold like a wet paper bag if Trevor wants to take you up on the invite.”
He's right but... C'mon that is kind of a buzzkill to just outright state? “Jules, man. Maybe work on your delivery a bit.” The sorceress suggested, the wind coming out of her sails at the mere allusion to the... Bathroom of Misery memory. “Too soon.”
“Sorry, Yoko. I am in a bit of a sour mood on account of being accused of not doing my family's life work and wasting the time and money of some fat bureaucrat whose never so much as slayed a mouse. Plus as an added bonus, my longtime girlfriend who I do actually love is angry with me for both being nearly disembowelled and careless enough to wind up even being accused of these things. Mostly she's pissed about my guts almost spilling out over a cave floor, so I guess that's heartwarming. But I got the reminder that I am 'not as young as you used to be' by another for the first time in my life.” The elder Hunter confessed in a rare display of venting. “To pile on top of that, I'm also in a foul mood because the demon I am hunting got away. Three times now. I have never... ever... Failed to get my mark that many times in a row. Rubbing in the painful truth that I am not as young as I used to be. It kinda sucks, Yoko.”
“You mean the Lilû, right? Oh, come on, lighten a little off the doom and gloom. Let's be fair, Jules, it got away from all four of us. It took down Señor Crazy, and realistically, is probably what took out Alucard while he embarked upon the roaring rampage of revenge. Most of the whole night is a hazy blur for me, to be frank, but I remember that Lilû fucked me up and I was only tethered to the Vampyre.”
“Lilû is not what got me, though. What's really bothering me is I keep thinking about it's temperamental spectral friend.” Julius revealed after a quiet moment passed between them.“The two of them, Lilû and the unknown semi-corporeal entity, had a familiar aura and I do not just mean in relation to one another. Nor is that aura something I have personally felt before, I'm fairly sure, but... Is it odd for me to say that it felt more like it was my blood that remembers it? I can't seem to explain it any better than that. It was like the blood in my veins was boiling in it's presence.”
“You are a Belmont, and according to the Creep, Lilû is the great progenitor of modern Desire demons. It is not outside the realm of possibility that you or your ancestors killed some demons closely related to it before. Could be like the Belmont version of muscle memory, but only for smiting.”
“You are probably onto something with that theory. To be honest I feel like the spectral lackey was... Vampyric in nature, but like no Vampyre I have ever crossed before. My gut instinct is telling me I am right on that conclusion.”
“Did you put that in your report?”
“Of course I did.”
“Did you put that Lilû looks like you? Like... Trevor?”
“Didn't you?”
Yoko faltered for a few moments, grappling with a guilty conscience over the battle of duty against loyalty, but answered honestly. In the end, solving this puzzle would save lives, so the more puzzle pieces offered up, the faster the greater picture would be revealed. “...Yes. The truth is the truth. I even included that the Coven's High Priestess seemed to know him, and assumed he would go with her willingly. There was no point in hiding anything out of some familial sense to protect Trevor Belmont. I don't even know what kind of protection exactly that Gramps could use, other than from the obvious kidnappers.”
Unfolding himself from the cramped writing desk, Julius came to take a seat beside her on the small bed and looked Yoko square in the eyes.“Liza slipped up. You caught it too.”
For a moment Yoko had to think back. It had been hours of being grilled, after all. Everything had started to blend together after the ordeal. The current bored stagnation game they had going on definitely had not helped. But like a lightning bolt struck, her eyes, hands and mouth all snapped wide open. “Yes! She did.” Yoko quickly agreed. “Lilû is definitely a new find, yet the Iron Maiden said they have something like it on file. But Lilû was an undiscovered demon, so how did they match the samples from it directly to something they had on record already?”
“That's right... Remember when Liza mentioned that Ambassador Țepeș' office submitted an application for a new temporary demon passport?”
“Yeah, which was weird since Al is out of commission..?”
“His office made the application a few weeks ago, not necessarily Alucard himself. Considering what we've seen of Alucard's Vampyre parent and his intimate knowledge of Alucard's personal and financial affairs... Methinks the Creep runs more of the show than originally believed.”
“Jules...” Yoko hedged, a deep suspicion of what the answer would be taking root, but needing to hear it out loud anyway. “Do you know what kind of new demon is being registered, pending review?”
“No... Everything about that application is classified. Which is in itself a very telling sign. What I do know is that the initial paperwork request for the proper forms was made the same day we dropped both Alucard and Trevor off after the rescue. The completion and return of the application, oddly, was only a few days prior, and Liza was the one who fast tracked it. Like it was something she had been watching for. So I have an idea what kind of shell record was started for Lilû to be matched up to when our samples were processed... I'm sure you do too now.”
“We took samples from both of them that night. If Lilû was certainly a new species, but yet we have a similar demon on file in the span of a few weeks... Plus, don't demon passport applications need to send a blood sample as well? And didn't Joachim seem to have a strong opinion about how to properly store tissue and blood samples in order to keep them viable for genetic testing?” Scrunching up her face in a paltry attempt to refuse reality, the sorceress caved, whispering weakly. “Then it's really not just that they look alike, is it?” Yoko watched Julius for any subtle tells, finding only a grim thin line that could pass for a smirk. “We're not going to hear about this until this 'pending review' demon is actually subjected to that thorough review, are we?” Judging by Julius' darkening look, she was on the mark again. “Trevor seems human to me.” It felt important to state that fact out loud, Gramp's talons included. Sonia Belmont was by all accounts human as well, right? That had to count for something. Trevor Belmont was the first to beat down Dracula successfully. No matter what the contents of their samples revealed, it would not change history. Trevor Belmont was a hero. Not the infallible titan of the legends by any means, but a hero in his own right.
“Some days Alucard seems real human too.” Jules pointed out in a low tone of voice, before he let out a sigh and the black clouds around him seemed to drift away on the air he'd expelled. “Until this demon is presented back at HQ, we're on payroll but off the case, Yoko. We've got nothing but time on our hands, girl.”
“That's right...” Nothing but endless time to kill waiting for a private jet to touch down and a host of Church affiliates to pre-clear customs. “Well if we can't do anything useful due to being benched by the higher ups, but we have been cleared of any wrongdoing... Why are we conducting ourselves as if we have been found guilty of such dastardly white collar crimes? You did mention when we left the conference room that we were not being tailed by any of our cohorts. So why are we penned up in here being bored out of our minds, Jules?”
“I just thought considering I've got a DNA match with a messy mystery man and probably an ancient demon, that I should be on my best behaviour for a little while, lest I give an armchair expert the excuse to scrutinize my methods even further. If it turns out my ancestors were bedding down with ancient demons, you know there are going to be some smug bastards waiting in the wings to knock me and the Belmont legacy down a few pegs, now that I am no longer needed to slay the Master of the Demon Castle. So I figured, why not behave for a bit? At least until I am placed back in the field.”
“People sure have short memories, huh? It was only thirty years ago.”
“Time marches ever forward, so they say.”
“Well if this Coven gets a hold of even a tendril of the Castle, I know who those smug bastards are going to run crying to.”
“Might as well park this whole convo until we're back in Wallachia and have the results of all the labs tests in.” Jules stated with an overwhelming sense of finality. Even his face brightened into a passable smile. “You want to go out, I imagine? It is in our best interest to lay low, you know?”
“So let's not be loud and flashy about it. Surely good behaviour can include going out to eat? Getting a few drinks without going overboard? Meeting up with Hambone?”
“Well... It can't be held against us, provided we use personal funds to go out drinking and snacking with a friend.” Jules reasoned out loud. “What did you have in mind?”
“Sushi and sake with Hammer. We'll not be near anywhere with good sushi for a long long while.” Yoko answered readily, having already plotted out the perfect day. “I would like to invite Soma and Mina as well since who knows when we'll see them again.”
“That's... A little risky, Yoko.” Jules inhaled sharply as he rolled the idea over. “We kept Soma out of this whole Cult debacle and now this Coven as a personal favour to Alucard. He doesn't want his parent's mortal reincarnations to get dragged down by their pasts mistakes. Soma is not on any Church radar that we know of. It would be a huge favour to the kid to keep it that way.”
“We are not being tailed, you said. Plus we've been in and out of this country for two whole years. Wouldn't it be weirder if we didn't make any friends with the locals that we would want to say goodbye to?”
“A thirty year old and a sixty year old hanging out with a pair of kids fresh out of high school doesn't seem suspicious to you at all?”
“You mean the local Shrine Maiden we met for work and her American transplant boyfriend who you man-bonded with cause you lived a good chunk of your life over there?” Yoko spun her version of reality around. “Seems pretty plausible to me that we'd have gotten close and fond of the Shrine Maiden at the Cult's primary crime scene and the crux of the Eclipse. The Maiden was already cleared of any wrongdoing or suspicion of involvement with Graham Jones and Cynthia, and thanks to Mina, we did successfully keep Soma out of the whole thing to boot. Al owed us big time for pulling that off.”
Julius mulled over her words in stony silence, but Yoko had been with him well long enough to recognize the little gears turning over her suggestion in his mind, as well as his eagerness to cave in to her demands. The man had grown to harbour quite the soft spot for Soma Cruz during the Eclipse, seemingly at peace completely with the fact that what mere mortals could only conceptualize as the soul within the young man was none other than the very demon Jules had sacrificed his 'Self' to slay. She'd never once seen the elder Hunter face the boy with blame in his eyes or on his tongue.
“You know, I do believe it was his latent powers manifesting that jostled some of my memories free after thirty years...” The man's careful considerations were suddenly interrupted by the whir and buzz of the phone that had been held limply in his hands this entire time. A cursory peek at the lockscreen display gave him a start, and Yoko sat up to watch him scramble to unlock and read the notification in depth. “Perfect.” Jules voice softened with contentedness.
Before Yoko could get uppity and nosy on her own, Jules lobbed the phone in her direction so that it landed gently face up on the bed beside her. Wasting no time to peer over at what had caused the goofy grin plastered on Jules' face, Yoko skimmed the dodgy, cryptic demon-run messenger app that Alucard – and Joachim, she'd also learned – utilized in lieu of trusting actual service providers to communicate safely and discreetly. It was an app Alucard had installed on each of their phones, and one that the Church's tech division had tried and failed to copy over and access. For the first time in weeks, Alucard's contact was lit up, his latest message sent mere minutes ago a simple thumbs up... The response to Jules' pending 'Alive or...?'. It prompted her to dive for her own phone charging on the nightstand and grin goofily at the response he'd given, tailored to her own sense of humour. She'd received an ancient meme picture of a man in a hospital bed. The original caption of 'I lived Bitch' was included, unaltered.
“He knows me so well for a guy whose only opened up to me in the last six months of the my whole life that I have known him.” Unable to resist, she texted back to congratulate his continued existence and inquiring about her dear suffering grandfather whom she knew for a fact had been just absolutely miserable and bereft the whole time he slept. She made a point to mention that too. How much pining and moping Trevor had been doing. Hey, Alucard was probably preening while he read it, she reasoned, seeing as how she'd never seen a person as disgustingly pleased with themselves as Alucard had been every time he captivated Trevor's complete attention. Hoping to have some of cupid's arrows rain in their direction, she'd even sent him the pic of Trevor glumly folded into the office chair wrapped in Al's discarded coat.
A ping back returned her a short but positive affirmation of his good health. A few seconds after that an unexpected bonus pic of Trevor curled up asleep upon Alucard's swole chest downloaded. One set of the Dhampyre's long fingers were threaded through the young hunter's hair, while the other hand laced with Trevor's relaxed grip. It was a sickeningly sweet sight... Waitaminute. Yoko narrowed her eyes and squinted closer to the screen. How had the picture been taken if Alucard was petting Trevor and holding his hand? Isn't that the totally wrong angle for the laced one..?
“Jules, get over here.” She beckoned, showing him the photo once he settled beside her.
Without wasting a beat, Julius bellowed a victorious sounding laugh and clapped her on the back like she was just another one of the guys. In other words, it stung and she was a little miffed about it. Not realizing she was also now glaring at him, he raised a single finger into the air. “Tell Hammer to give me back the fifty bucks I lost to him on our last bet. Since my defeat, we've confirmed Al does have a sex drive and preferences, so I knew I had got this one in the bag.”
Still not quite puzzling it out, she pointed at the hand laced with Trevor's resting loosely on Alucard's impressive pectorals, impossible to ignore even covered up by an unwanted, rude shirt. “Why does that hand not bend like normal?”
“Yoko...” Julius' mirth switched gears, now instead deriving amusement from her. “Look at the claws on both those hands, girl. Let alone just using basic logic. Alucard doesn't have three hands.”
Obeying the command, she did, and found the one losing itself in Trevor's chestnut locks had the familiar refined oval claws she recognized as belonging to Alucard, which could only mean the other more threateningly tapered-tipped ones, retracted or not, belonged to the other Moroi in the house. Joachim.
“They are... Jules. Was I just accidentally sent a pic of all three of them... cuddling on the couch?”
“Your boyfriend owes me money, Yoko. I called it. Al's Vampyre parent is truly his Vampyre Daddy.”
That caused her to snort so hard she could hardly remember to breath.“Do you think he meant to do that? Do you think he realized?” She asked, zooming in and out on various parts for research. They were both in casual, borderline lounge wear. The more she looked, the more she was sure that under a shared blankie so was Joachim's obscured frame. Three grown dudes in their PJ's cuddling up. She was in love with it. “I don't think he noticed Joachim's hand was in frame.” Gasping at the edge of the cliff she wanted to hurl herself over, Yoko turned sharply to the elder Hunter, eyes blazing to ask. “Should I ask him about it!?”
“Yessssss.” Jules hissed with a wicked grin and a diabolical glint in his own irises.
Fingers twitching with mischievous energy, she tapped out a coy response.
YoBear: Ahh, how cute all piled up together. Grandpa and weird Uncle Creeps have been so well behaved while you were sick. Two peas in a pod. So it's nice of you guys to include your babysitter in the romance action now that you're awake.
Al's Diner: ...
YoBear: I do actually mean babysitter in complete seriousness. Gramps has been nothing short of coddled like a toddler. I think I saw them hold hands more than a few times, and even do that little demon nuzzle. So I gotta ask, is dating the babysitter like a kinky roleplay? Is the little hand holding and face rubbing just general demon foreplay? I didn't know Vampyres could be so affectionate <3
Al's Diner: ...
YoBear: Do you remember by any chance that the very first thing you did when you were reunited with Joachim was climb into his lap and take a nap? I thought it was weird at the time, but now I see this kind of intimate physical affection between you two demons is just a regular Thursday afternoon after all. Have you always cuddled up sweetly to Joachim? Is that why you're friends? I didn't know Dhampyres could be so cuddly and lovery-dovey either. So cute <3
Al's Diner: What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?
YoBear: I am Spanish. So are you guys like a throuple now or what?
“If he doesn't answer it's because he threw the phone in the trash.” Julius snickered knowingly.
It was a factoid that Jules hadn't need to share with Yoko. In truth, there were plenty of memories of hers that involved fishing out and returning Alucard's various cellphones over the years from such receptacles after other identical knee-jerk reactions to annoyance. The first time she had been knee-high playing with a toy Pegasus when the Ambassador had chucked his phone after a curt conversation she no longer recalled the words to, but could never forget the tone. That aloof and otherworldliness aura he'd exuded she would come to associate with the untouchable Alucard as he coolly accepted the device back from her small hands that day... Only to have that image smashed during these past six months once Trevor Belmont walked back into the Dhampyre's world, revealing him to be a just another giant dork with a hardcore crush.
After a measured moment of wait, Yoko and Julius turned towards one another and nodded, speaking in unison.
“He trashed it.”
After a good laugh, the sorceress gathered her wits and in good cheer for the first time in days all but sang. “This is as good a sign as any that all's well that end's well, right? The kids are all tucked in. We're not detained. We're going to go home soon on a private jet, no less?” Enthusiasm just dripping, she continued. “So it's going to be all right if I text Hambone and Soma and we see if everyone can meet up?”
“All right, fine.” Jules relented at last. “Let's just leave this place on a positive note instead of with our tails tucked between our legs.”
A few hours later, that was how a freshly bathed and neatly styled hunter duo found themselves climbing into Hammer's jeep to pick up a pair of newly minted full fledged adults out in front of the Hakuba Shrine. The young couple who were still so fresh that they were all blushes and flustered about being referred to as an item looked good on the drive over to the restaurant Yoko had vetted beforehand. Soma talked about extending his student visa in order to attend university there, while Mina's family had graciously offered to host the young man in order to relieve some of the financial burden that would entail. Her father was rather fond of the boy and, sexism aside, seemed to be keen on Mina marrying Soma so that he had a male heir with which to hand over his business ventures to. The kid was looking at Project Management anyway, so it would certainly be up his alley if things worked out that way. Mina on the other hand, chimed in that she was more interested in pursuing Hospitality, and that she was looking forward to taking over the baths and lodgings on the temple grounds.
Yoko could see their happy little normal life all plotted out, and felt a sense of satisfaction that was mirrored on Julius's weathered face. In a few years maybe a baby or two or three would follow. The spirits of Alucard's fate maligned parents were finally going to have their day in the sun. Many days in the sun, by the sounds of it. As she listened to the young couple update the elder trio on their lives and plans, she found herself wondering idly if Soma and Mina were to marry and have children, would they all be Alucard's family? Would they be his little brothers and sisters? Alucard didn't seem to treat or think of Soma as his father from what she could tell. But then again... He did always seem a little forlorn and quiet around little Miss Hakubu. Maybe he had been a Mama's Boy. That would also be kind of cute.
All in all, it had been a nice visit, lovely meal, and if life did indeed take them in opposite directions, Yoko felt that sense of closure she was seeking as she watched them step out of the Jeep together, hand in hand, as they were dropped back off at the shrine. The kids... Were going to be all right.
“Oh...” Soma hedged, releasing Mina's hand to trot back to the Jeep window. He peered in at Julius and shuffled a little uncomfortably, but his voice was even when he spoke. “Maybe this is too forward given I barely know him but... Do you think you could let Mister Arikado know that I would like to see him too before you all go?”
“What makes you think Genya Arikado is going anywhere?” Jules replied so smoothly he gave nothing away.
“I do not want to intrude on him... I am certain Mister Arikado has his reasons but... When my powers were awakened by him, I felt the echo of my energy from within his body. I never got a chance to ask him why it was that I felt my power in his veins. It's not like I will ask him if he prefer I not... But I just know that he is not really... Genya Arikado. So I would like to say goodbye to him too before he leaves as well. Hopefully as who he really is but I won't force it. Just... If you could maybe ask him?”
Jules answered only after Yoko resorted to pushing the back of his headrest in annoyance at the long drawn out silence. “Okay, Soma. I can't make any promises, but I will let him know you want to see him.”
“Thanks. Keep in touch, I hope?”
“Absolutely!” Yoko chimed in from the back seat, waving as the Jeep pulled away. “Well that was a pleasant use of my afternoon.” Continuing to speak to the two men chauffeuring her around, she watched out the back window as the two lovebirds climbed the intimidatingly tall shrine steps together. They'd have cute babies if they decided to go that route. “Sooo... What say I beat both you losers in a pool hall?”
“Game on, Yoko.” Hammer quickly rose to the challenge. “I intend to leave this country in a blaze of glory, just so you know.”
“What makes you think I am sharing any of my glory?” Jules cut in with a scoff.
While maybe the whole internal investigation thing would cast some shade on the memories made in Japan years later when she'd be in the position to look back, at least it was gearing up to be a pretty pleasant use of her evening, in spite of that. Today would be a rosy recollection one day.
*****
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Shinjuku Ward
Down the street there were seven children and three adult women getting off the city bus a bit out from the posted stop due to a snowbank. Eleven older men were out shovelling driveways and sidewalks clear. Three cars with a combined nine occupants were cautiously moving through the snowy streets of the neighbourhood. It was so cold and frigid out that everyone, humans, small animals, avians included, plodded along at glacier paces. Even caving to admit how difficult and complex a task monitoring a city borough was, let alone how taxing, there was a relief in knowing within this muted quiet burb, nary a whiff of danger could be sensed. Over the course of the night he'd grown accustomed to the overloading of his senses, but a far cry from comfortable. Feeling boots fall heavy on his back, or puffs of warm breaths on his cheeks, or the wind under his wings while not actually being in direct contact with the sources of these sensations was utterly exhausting. A little disturbing, even, and filled with plenty of confusion. He felt that if he lost his focus he would easily be swept up and swept out by the cacophony. They'd find him drooling and rocking himself soothingly in a corner.
What did not exactly help matters was having the warm inviting body of Trevor Belmont curled up against his side, looking so distractingly attractive as he slept. Even if he was also, by happenstance and lack of space, also curled up practically nose to nose with a normally vexing Vampyre. A Vampyre who was disturbingly still some six hours later after a meditative rest and a bloodmeal. That was probably... Not a great sign. Probably a cause for more concern than his overtaxed concentration was capable of sparing towards it. It was probably a good idea to try waking him just to confirm he could be woke... If not, well at least the soil was still in his coffin. When it came to Moroi, there was very little a dirt-nap could not solve, after all. He wasn't just entertaining that idea over a sudden desire to bury that old familiar face in dirt Alucard kept finding his gaze resting upon against his will. Why did he keep staring at Joachim when there was a sleeping sexy Trevor right under his nose? One who couldn't tell him to stop leering at the moment.
Maybe he was overthinking and over-worrying simply because he had never seen the Vampyre collapse like he had earlier that morning. It had been quite a shocking sight. Then again, maybe if he hadn't thrown his phone across the room in a fit, he would have a suitable distraction to his wandering thoughts and would not be so fixated on the juxtaposition of a sleeping warm-hued Hunter against an unconscious cool-toned Byronic demon. Distantly, given his mind was stuffed full of external sensations and awareness, and in spite of genuine concern harboured for the drained demon, Alucard became cognizant of the fact he was... Kind of enjoying himself? In a perverse way he should be ashamed of. While hating to admit it, the bratty little sorceress had struck the nail on the head. When not putting on airs, he was – selectively, mind you – a 'cuddly' guy. If the right kind of person he desired to cuddle was available, why deny oneself the pleasure? As to her other insinuations, so what if often throughout the hundreds of long suffering years in Alucard's existence that right kind of person to cuddle up against had been the same Vampyre in question? It didn't mean what she teased. Friendships were different back in the fifteenth century. Men were allowed to emote back then and even hug while doing it. Besides, had Yoko never heard about safety in numbers? It was perfectly normal for Desire demons to dog-pile, with or without casual group-sex or a full blown orgy as a precursor. Touching one another so casually was natural. Completely normalized. A basic instinct. Plus, Romanian winters were cold!
Although I have been rather abnormal for a Desire demon for a good long while, but she doesn't need to know any of this. She'll never let me hear the end of it if she learns the truth.
It was a faint whimper that took him out of his glowering, bringing his attention near completely to the warm-hued beauty nestled in his arms. The world outside was pushed to the far corners of his mind as he gauged the tension in Trevor's twisting, darkening features. What was on display seemed to play out usually how his night terrors started however... The man did not tend to suffer from them whenever Alucard settled down next to him. Or really, being honest, when anyone settled down next to Trevor. The Hunter never did seem to get much rest when sleeping alone. But here he was, twisting his features and trembling, murmuring in an incoherent but pained tone whilst he was cradled safely. As the words grew more defined, Alucard leaned closer.
“No...No... Please...” Trevor whispered feverishly in a blend of German and Romanian. There were a few French whimpers he caught but could not understand intermixed as well “Not the dark again... Don't leave me in the dark.”
“...Trevor?”
“I'm cold... Stop... hurts...” The Hunter's clenched eyes teared up, stray droplets escaping through long lashes here and there. “Why am I always being left alone..? Please... Please won't someone just stay, even a little while? What terrible thing have I done to deserve this..?”
In a rush to sit up and shake the Hunter awake, the Dhampyre nearly bucked the Vampyre off onto the floor. He did not in the end, but it would have been an acceptable sacrifice if it meant freeing Trevor from whatever terror had him in tears. Bleary blue-grey eyes shot wide-open, scanning the room wildly with open uncertainty until the Hunter gathered himself enough to realize he had been woken from a nightmare. His stricken features turned rosy as he drew in several measured breaths, shaky as they were, in an attempt to calm himself. In the end the brunette couldn't quite conquer his fear alone, and was more than eager to crawl up into Alucard's waiting embrace once encouraged. Quietly he sat for several minutes, trembling intermittently, as the poor thing tried to bring his nerves under control. At least the hands Alucard ran over the long line of his body seemed to offer Trevor some minor comfort.
“...What were you dreaming about?” The Dhampyre whispered into the chestnut locks of hair his nose was buried in, hoping to prompt the Hunter to unburden his troubles. It sounded like his imprisonment... Something Trevor professed early on to have few memories of.
Haunted eyes snapped onto his, almost as desperate as the sound of Trevor's voice had been while crying out. “Are we finally going to have that talk..?” It must have been obvious with just a short glance that Alucard was recoiling inside, as Trevor's shivering intensified and his mouth clamped shut. “Then I don't want to think about it right now either.”
“That's okay.” Alucard soothed, dropping the subject entirely in lieu of running his hands gently along any part of the Hunter he could reach. “I am right here... It's a little grey outside because it is winter, but the sun is trying to come out of the clouds. We'll take a walk later, if you like. Get some muted sunshine? It may help shake off the oppressive emotions.”
“...I'm sorry if I woke you.” It was a tiny miserable little voice that offered the apology, shyly admitting. “That feels nice...”
“You didn't wake me, so don't worry about it.” He replied sweetly, but had a sense that it would be better to keep talking, lest Trevor climb back inside his own head to contend with whatever dark memories were haunting him from within confines of his skull. “I've actually just been observing outside while you two slept. Being nosy, getting into other people's business. It's kind of like reality television out there. I know Yoko showed you that trashy excuse for entertainment.”
After a reticent sounding laugh escaped, there was a long silent moment before Trevor piped up in a more steady voice. “Is it hard to protect us like this?” The question was followed swiftly by another. “Hard enough that it made Joachim faint like a fair maiden?”
Taking his time to let out a wistful little chuckle, his smile was wide when he answered honestly. “It is very draining while taking quite a fair share of my focus, and I am well rested and fed. Credit where credit is due, the fact that he was doing all this as long as he has been on top of having that Lilû sap his energy... I am a little jealous of that fortitude. Especially since someone once told me it was a father's duty to protect his family. I thought I would be a little better suited to the task after all this time.”
“If I keep practising this aura thing, maybe I can maintain some big fancy wards too one day. Even if it's just for a little while, only enough to give you two a small break, I'll keep trying so I can help you both, deal?”
“You Belmont hunters can literally do anything you set your minds to, so I'll hold you to it. Deal.”
“I am a retired hunter, Adrian, and my duty to pass on my legacy has been fulfilled. Yoko and Julius seem like more than worthy heirs.”
“What do you mean?”
The brunette's body in his arms finally relaxed somewhat, a pretty head falling to the side to look down at him from the Hunter's perch upon his lap. “I'm saying I don't particularly want or need to be a Belmont these days.”
“Who else would you be, if not Trevor Belmont?”
“Hmm...” The Hunter mused, mischief chasing away the haunting that had been held in those blue-grey eyes. Alucard let himself be pushed a little further down against the couch armrest as Trevor seemed keen on hovering over him, long wisps of glossy chestnut hair tickling his face and neck as they glided along his skin. “Well... I agreed to something a long time ago, perhaps you recall? Do you remember what you suggested to me after we escaped that sunken city with the Moroi dragon, barely hanging on to more than our lives?”
Pursing his lips, Alucard stifled his own uncomfortable squirm at the distant memory. The desperate climb out of the underground lake back then was too close to his most recent experience for comfort. That being said, because Trevor had asked it of him, he wracked his brain, recalling the rotten water-logged tower giving way while he and Sypha had attempted to plot out their party's escape from its lofty vantage point. Bony dragon coming for him, enraged that he and the Mage had escaped its brutality. Then there had been such a gallant figure of Trevor Belmont stepping in to protect him... The first time another person who wasn't his parent had ever ascribed value on Alucard's continued existence. Up until then he'd been intrigued and fascinated by the starving, wounded youth that had stumbled into his mother's abandoned laboratory, but that had been the moment Alucard knew what he was feeling was indeed love. He recalled collapsing side by side at the edge of the city, staring into the abyss below. Sypha's soft stream of tears... And the dragon's last gasp of rage. Trevor falling into certain doom and Alucard following after him, catching him against all odds. The life of a hero returned for the wretched life of a demon spared. Loyalty forged in blood that only strengthened every day that passed afterwards.
“You... ended up being the princess after all.” Alucard replied, certain that he was on the mark.
Trevor's coquettish grin became so much more when paired with the fond heat contained within his eyes. “I did. Except there was a problem being that I am not royalty...”
Alucard's breath caught as the misty memory solidified in his mind. In nearly the same cadence as he had spoken the words centuries ago, the Dhampyre remarked once more. “You'll have to marry me first, if you want to be the princess.”
“That's correct. I said I would consider it if we survived, did I not?” A soft exhale later, Trevor dipped until they were a hairsbreadth apart. “We lived through it, Adrian.”
There's no way... The Dhampyre sat up straight, capturing the face before his in both hands. He's not really suggesting that, is he? But what if he is? What do I do? Do I just say yes? Is he saying yes!? Who the fuck is proposing to whom here!?
“Are you leaking air?” Trevor asked suddenly, with a bemused look on his face.
Alucard raised an eyebrow in confusion, but then realized... he was indeed letting out a sort of muted... girlish... squeal of sorts. Or perhaps more accurately described as leaking air. Ignoring that embarrassment, out of the million of eloquent or suave things that could have come out of the fool Dhampyre's mouth, the stupid thing that bubbled to the surface above them all was a barely audible gasp. “Are you saying that you want to be my prințesă?” It sounded so dumb coming out, yet he was rewarded regardless.
“ Prințesă Țepeș does have a nice sound to it.” Trevor considered out loud, turning his vision towards the ceiling as he thought. A moment later he was wearing that openly bemused look once more and fixing Alucard to the spot. “You're doing it again. Leaking air. What is that noise you keep making?”
“I think that is just the sound of pure joy escaping.” The Dhampyre surrendered completely to the moment, uncaring how uncool it was to be uhh... Leaking air.
“Oh, is that what that is? Duly noted.” The Hunter mused, but there was a faint colour creeping into his visage now. “So do boys also get pretty little rings like the one Hammer had made for Yoko?”
“My prințesă can have whatever the hell she wants.” He answered readily, the possibilities and plans already spiralling out towards the absurd and extravagant. Trevor would probably hate every part of the wedding spectacle his obsessive brain was building up, however. Trevor – formerly known as Belmont – would probably prefer something small and meaningful. “What if I made you one like how I made your whip? No one else in the whole world would have a ring like yours, then.”
“Hypothetically, let's say that I was going to accept something like that, would you then help me make a similar unique gift for yourself? I admit I don't have a working knowledge of metallurgy.” Trevor answered with his own question, swallowing down his open amusement at the 'pure joy' escaping Alucard. “It could be like those promise rings I heard about. The very idea of them I think is kind of sweet.”
“I also think they're romantic, personally, so yes. My promised prințesă, then.” Agreeing immediately, Alucard pulled the Hunter in for a rather enthusiastic kiss. He could get used to being proposed to be proposed to. “This is real, right? You're not playing a joke on me?”
“No jokes... I was simply putting it out there that I am not against the idea of trading Belmont for Țepeș, that's all. If the mood was right and I was sufficiently seduced. Who knows what would come out of my mouth if you asked me then.” It was a salacious tease and the Hunter gauged the effects of Alucard's excitement and arousal from under the shade of his long eyelashes, evidently pleased at the effect he'd had on the demon before him. “I have never been engaged before. It might be fun to be betrothed for once over what happened between Estée and myself. Ahh... I believe the English term is a 'shot-gun' wedding?”
“Now I cannot wait to get back home to my workshop.” The Dhampyre confessed, mind completely off the surrounding area he was supposed to be monitoring for Lilû threats and instead on themed wedding décor and endless cake sampling. Was there ever a wrong time for buttercream? Absolutely not! There was a niggling little thing that kept wriggling into his pure joy, however. Biting the bullet, he had no choice but to bring it up. “Speaking of memories, do you not recall getting huffy with me back at my parents villa for reminding you about agreeing to marry me? What changed?” In a rush, he clarified. “I'm glad it changed, by the way. I just want to know what changed and why?”
Trevor fidgeted in his lap a little before answering. “I guess I did a lot of thinking while you were recovering. About how once upon a time we could have been this little unorthodox family with Sypha and our children. You were jointly willing to work towards a creative living solution because you both held love for me in your hearts. So I thought... While I still have the chance, I should be willing to do the same here and now. Turns out I am more than all right with the idea... Of creative living arrangements... Because I love you. So no matter what the end result looks like, why not be open to committing to you in this ritualistic way, if that's what would make you happy? I do want to make you happy.”
Holy shit, Trevor Belmont. If you're telling me you will say 'Yes' to a perfectly planned proposal than prepare to be wooed. The Dhampyre's grin may or may not have come off a little sinister, who could say, as his amber irises bled crimson with desire. “Define creative living arrangements for me, Trevor.” Hey, he had to ask. Who knew what the Hunter was expecting. Really, the fine details wouldn't matter in the end, as he already knew his prințesă would get whatever she wanted in spades. Honestly he just wanted to know what she desired, and which credit card he was going to charge it to.
“Oh, you know if you have to ask...” The flirtatious soft voice trailed off in thought. “Perhaps you'll need to take your horse-blinders off first before I answer that. But I'm confident I can help you get there as well.”
“You'll help take my... blinders off?”
“Mmm-hmm.” The Hunter confirmed, sounding rather convinced of whatever scheme he had in the works. “Presently, I'm only asking you think over what we talked about right now in your own time. For the sake of maybe, maybe not, alternative family arrangements. That's all.”
“You say the strangest goddamn things, Trevor Belmont, but I adore you anyway. I hope you know that.” Alternative creative family arrangements, right. Whatever that means. At least it seemed whatever bizarre little train of thought the Hunter had hopped on so suddenly had successfully distracted him from the night terror earlier. Alucard would rather have a perplexing and oddly playful Trevor Belmont over a haunted and trembling one any day. Noticing the Hunter had shifted his attention to the meditating Vampyre, having concluded their conversation about marriage proposals was now over, Alucard breathed out a long sigh and warned lowly. “Be careful with him... He's still in a deep state. It's a little concerning.”
Trevor did not spare him a look but did make a thoughtful noise as he shifted Joachim up more comfortably between their embrace. There was obviously something fascinating about Joachim's lips, as the Hunter traced them delicately, with a particular focus on rubbing his thumb along the semi-defined line down the centre of the bottom one. “This is a striking facial feature, don't you think so?”
“I do not.” Alucard refuted immediately, feeling like this should have broken the new tolerance he'd found to endure these two fawning over each other in front of him since he'd strangled the Vampyre... But he still wasn't upset. Perhaps only because he still felt guilty and ashamed of himself for doing it in the first place. Very curious. “The medical term for that is called a median cleft. While his is an extremely mild and merely cosmetic example, that double-lobed lip is still a birth defect. He is defective, Trevor.”
“Well, I am defective too then.” Trevor retorted, wiggling the clawed fingers that were not caressing that plump, bloodless lower lip. Satisfied when Alucard winced after putting his foot solidly in his mouth, Trevor returned his attention to the relaxed expression peeking through a mess of silver hair. “I think it is an alluringly handsome defect that suits him, and I am surprised that an artist like yourself is not of the same mind.”
“You need your eyes examined if you think he's more handsome than I am because of a deformed mouth.” Flattering him by calling Alucard an artist was not going to let Trevor get away with this one. They were coming off as absolutely obsessed with each other, the Vampyre and Hunter.
“If you're going to put words in my mouth, fine. By what standards and parameters are we using? My own personal preference, or conventional beauty as a whole?” Always a question countered with a question when it came to this Belmont and any debate.
“By any standards, Trevor. I am way better looking; Anyone would say so.”
“By any standards, you say.” Alucard watched Trevor brush the hair from Joachim's face and openly compared their visages near side by side, which the Dhampyre quickly realized provoking Trevor into doing was a mistake. “Then if we're using conventional beauty standards, would not virile traits that convey strength be considered more attributed to male beauty, or handsomeness?”
“I hope you are not implying he is more virile than I am now.” Seriously, what the hell? How did they go from talking about proposing to propose to comparing looks all of a sudden? This was the third time in recent memory now Trevor was obviously measuring he and his elder counterpart against one another, and just as he felt the first time, Alucard wasn't certain he cared to be in such a position. There was a certain fear that Trevor was going to tell him something he didn't want to hear, and Joachim's warnings from before he throttled the other demon needled him from the peripherals of his mind. What if he lashed out in the same fashion..?
But why should I even care? He's passably handsome just like a million other men, that Trevor or anyone else would acknowledge. I am not threatened by passably handsome. He was not, so what was so bothersome about the comparison? They were essentially the same genus, so of course there would be similarities. So yes, he was good looking, but Joachim was certainly not Alucard's type. Too tall for one thing, even with a seriously snatched waist he did like. Begrudgingly. But that niggling apprehension kept growing... What was Trevor's type? Alucard... couldn't say even after giving it serious thought. The only hints were a red-haired wife with what the Hunter had once described as 'unusual' facial features, a feisty, boyish Spanish Mage who did not fit the standard female mould of the fifteenth century in any regard, and finally himself... A rare hybrid of two species, and the only male out of the bunch. With assurance, it could only be said that Trevor liked unique looking women... And the Dhampyre. But what if, when viewed side by side like this, Trevor found qualities in the Vampyre so similar to the Dhampyre..? Would that not mean that what had provoked Alucard to attack in a fit of jealousy... Was what he was told the other night really the truth? Joachim, with his 'striking facial feature' had been... Correct, after all? This is a dumb hill to die on, buddy. Being attracted to someone doesn't mean it goes any deeper than that.
Until it did. Hopefully the grimace threatening his features was kept away.
“You're so ridiculous sometimes, you know that?” The Hunter chastised., breaking him out of his loop.“If we're going by faces, then his jaw is more squared and his brow more defined than yours. His nose is also a touch more blunt and masculine in shape. Your features are more regal and refined. Aquiline traits most would deem much more comparable to prettier things rather than handsome ones. So going by the majority rules, Joachim does have a more handsome face than yours. This median cleft lip you are so quick to write off as a detriment enhances his more common features and gives his whole look a certain je ne sais quoi.”
“You're the ridiculous one here. I can't believe you spent all early morning making out with this face when you think I am less attractive than your new best friend forever.” Alucard turned his head with a huff, unable to even look at the pair of them in that moment. “You're just using me for my body, aren't you?”
Chuckling lightly, the Hunter grasped his chin with one hand and twisted his head back in Trevor's direction. There was so much fondness and amusement in those pretty little steel jewels that even Alucard's growing temper melted before their mirth. It was impossible to stay mad at such a pretty porcelain doll. Particularly one that had just agreed to being his promised prințesă. “You started it by pitching a fit over a compliment not aimed at you for a change of pace, but to be clear, we're talking European male beauty standards right now, not my personal preference.” Trevor leaned in with mesmerizing slowness as their eyes locked, his quick little tongue poking out to lap at Alucard's own lower lip, sealing it with a bruising, sucking kiss. They never broke eye contact from start to finish. “He may win the European pageant, but I prefer a pretty face, Adrian, and yours is the prettiest I know.”
“...And?” He prompted, refusing to let this issue drop until he heard exactly what he wanted to hear.
To emphasize, the pair of smaller hands ran up his chest from belt to collarbones before the Hunter answered. “This body is extremely masculine, Adrian. You're built like a Roman god and I think it has more of an effect on my decision making than I should allow it to have. That the laws of decency mandate we wear clothing is a crime in your case. If I could, I'd just bask in the sight of you all damn day.” Trevor flattered shamelessly. “Are you happy now?”
“Damn right, I am happy now. No way in hell I am not the prettiest.” Grumble trailing off, he studied the brunette returning to continue to playing with random features on the still Vampyre's form. Be it his hair, the claws on his fingers, the material of his clothing, or back again to that malformed birth defect that absolutely – upon a closer inspection prompted by Trevor bringing the feature to focus – was not inviting others to lick along that semi-defined seam while sucking that plush pouty lip. No way in hell. They're not even chapped the slightest. How does he keep them that soft, even in winter? Mortified for a minute, he self-chastised. Argh, just stop thinking about the lip.“I said be careful with him in that state. He's never meditated this long and if he's in too deep, your touching him like that may trigger a defensive reaction.” Quit caressing the defect, Trevor.
“It should be fine then as he is not meditating. I watched you do that enough times when we travelled together. Joachim is clearly asleep.”
“That's not possible. Vampyre's do not sleep or dream. Everyone knows that.”
“You sleep. I have seen you dream too.” Trevor countered, gently poking and prodding the still form of the demon. It was a growing strain to repress the urge to rip those hands off from Joachim and place them on his own form. Why wasn't he petting his Dhampyre instead?
“Th-that...” Alucard trailed off, picking back up with more firmness in his tone than he'd meant it to carry. “I am a Dhampyre. For all we know, I am human enough to do those things. Besides, I only started sleeping when I started laying down next to you. If anything, you make me sleep. I didn't sleep in the strictest definition of the word for centuries after you vanished into thin air.”
“Well, he is undeniably a Vampyre. And undeniably asleep. What's the common denominator here?”
“Are you suggesting that you are Ambien for Vampyres?” Alucard dismissed sarcastically. “He's just in deep meditation, that's all. I'm sure he'll come out of it if you annoy him enough, carefully.”
Trevor succinctly ignored his warning about caution in favour of prying open an eyelid only to find the silver iris there rolled back. Next he lightly shook Joachim with increasing force before eventually dragging a choice selection of Joachim's interests through the mud. Blackjack cherry frogurt, Hermès wallets, and the classic Lotus Seven were all besmirched. When poking fun at Kaiju films and tabletop RPG's did nothing, Trevor went in for the kill. “Niccolò Paganini was overrated.” The Hunter stated firmly, with a tension visible in his body, as if surrendering himself for a guaranteed harsh rebuttal of the physical variety. It did not come.
“...Maybe Vampyres actually can sleep?” Alucard ventured, in spite of all previous evidence to the contrary. There was no way Joachim would take that insulting statement about his musical role-model lying down. Alucard had also felt the brief urge to backhand Trevor for even suggesting such a thing about the great virtuoso, in jest or not.
“This is a golden opportunity...” The Hunter murmured.
“To draw a dick on his face? I agree. I have a sharpie in my top desk drawer.”
“Is that a thing?” Trevor asked but then shook his head and did not wait for a response. “No, this is a golden opportunity to finally get a good look at this...”
“Don't!” Alucard's outburst froze Trevor's reaching hand, pale finger looped under the fine chain the ring Joachim never removed from his person was strung upon. The ring was still concealed beneath the Vampyre's shirt when Trevor was startled still. “Leave it alone. He never takes that off and the only person he's ever let touch it that I know of was you, very briefly, and it set him off when you did it. I can't handle insane Joachim right now.”
“He's asleep, Adrian. If you keep quiet he will be none the wiser. So keep it down.” The Hunter persisted and pulled the ring free. He lay it in his palm, still secured around Joachim's neck, and studied it with a troubled look.
Speaking cautiously low, Alucard fretted. “What if he's just in a deep meditation and not sleeping like you think after all? What if you just pressed the... you know... Walter Bernhard button?”
“Acceptable risk.”Trevor stated far too quickly for Alucard's liking. Had the Hunter really not understood how lucky they had been the previous time to survive the Walter Bernhard button push? That the transferred fanatic devotion to serve and protect a deceased Walter was all converged upon that dainty piece of jewellery? “Joachim said that Walter gave him this ring... Proof of their love or whatever?”
“Stop saying that name out loud. It's bad enough you're touching the ring.”
“Proof he was Walter's slave, is more I think he what he said. Did he not sound too feverish when disclosing such a thing about a dead demon?” When Alucard refused to answer, wanting the conversation and the fascination with the otherworldly ring to end as quickly as possible, Trevor simply carried on his tangent. “I am a Belmont, and we are very good at sensing curses and the like. This ring is hexed. Walter gave him a hexed ring, and if he's had it since he was imprisoned in the waterways where my ancestor Leon recorded finding him, than he's been hexed for over a millennia. If Walter gave it to him earlier than that... Who knows how long he's been hexed by the old Vampyre.”
“That demon is long dead, so I don't really see the harm. Please put it back and stop saying that name out loud.”
“Adrian, he is your friend. By all accounts, you oldest and most loyal friend. You're also a powerful Dhampyre with a specialty in the dark arts. How did you not realize your best friend has been hexed all this time?” Narrowing his eyes in what was perhaps disappointment, the Hunter ventured. “Or, have you just been ignoring it?”
A little of column A and a little of column B, yet he simply shook his head. There was a more urgent pressing matter to focus on. That being Trevor trying to get them killed. “Joachim and I just skirt the Bernhard dilemma, okay. It's not safe for anyone when the topic comes up. So please, I am begging you, drop it right now.” Again, how in the hell did the pair of them go from playfully dreaming about future weddings on the horizon to facing an impending violent Vampyre outburst so fast? Did Trevor have a death wish or something? He must, as nothing else explained why he was dragging them both towards the gibbets.
“Haven't you ever considered that perhaps he doesn't actually love Walter? That frenzied devotion likely stems from this ring. Maybe the hex is forcing him to say he is slavishly in love with Walter. Maybe that is why he gets so intense when the topic comes up. The heart and mind rebelling against the Force of Will his body is being compelled to surrender himself to.” Trevor's blue-grey eyes narrowed in a glower, darkening ideas swirling just behind his gaze. “Wouldn't that drive you crazy too? If you had to say you love someone you might actually despise, every single minute of every single day you were alive... For a thousand or more years? I know I would go mad.”
“I haven't considered because we don't talk about this. We don't think about this. We avoid exactly this conversation at all costs. It's been working great for us for hundreds of years. So put his goddamn cursed ring back right now before we have no choice but to talk about it.”
Anxiety reaching it's limit, Alucard reached out to snatch the ring from Trevor's grasp, which the Hunter's hand instinctively pivoted, pulling on the chain in the process. Now what had started as a desperate attempt to get Trevor to just let crazy bygones be bygones exploded into what no doubt, from the widening silver eyes awakened abruptly, appeared to be a Hunter and a Dhampyre fighting over the Vampyre's prized, precious ring. Alucard felt the weight of Joachim Force of Will crush him in place helplessly as he watched the still widening silver eyes, mad now in every sense of the word, fixate on the one being such a Force of Will would have no effect on. No, to strike at a Belmont as closely related to Leon as Trevor, even a Vampyre like Joachim would have to use his bare hands.
“L-let's just... Take a deep breath or two.” He begged in a suppressed voice, powerless to push back against the energy tightening around his paralyzed body.
Crazed and crimson eyed, the Vampyre's clawed hand flew out and seized Trevor by the throat, lifting him completely off the couch and dangling him, teeth bared. With an audible scraping sound, every pointed edge of Joachim's body stretched to their limits, a Vampyre's full fang inches from Trevor's throat. Terrified of what could possible occur next, Alucard helplessly watched as the brunette was left to deescalate the situation all alone. Trevor seemed to be splitting his effort between trying to calm his nerves as well as study the threat. Alucard trembled. The only solace he had in this useless state was his complete confidence that if there was anyone who could be trusted to wriggle out of the imminent catastrophe unscathed, it would be Trevor fucking Belmont. He truly believed that.
As if to prove his faith was well placed, Trevor managed a gentle disarming smile in spite of being choked out, and even placed his hands on Joachim's grip soothingly. For a fraction of a second that seemed to stretch on for ages, nothing changed. Then there was a flicker of some emotion in the Vampyre's eyes, as briefly his scent perfumed the room. It was heavy with reluctance. The arm lowered Trevor but kept it's iron grip around his neck. Silver and crimson bleeding in and out over one another in a fight to regain composure. The full fangs retracted back into Joachim's gumline, and while the hand wrapped around Trevor's throat trembled slightly now, it was clear the Hunter was not being held tight enough to cut off his breathing.
“Je suis désolé, ma Bête” A hushed voice appeased. “Kitten warned me not to touch your property. I thought it would be all right to look at it since you let me last time.” Still hushed, still plaintive, Trevor continued. “I should have asked first.”
The eyes watching every muscle twitch in Trevor's face were cold and hard, but decidedly back to silver. It was a hopeful sign. “Only you two.” Joachim spoke through clenched teeth, cryptically. He looked to be in great pain, as if something was tearing him from inside out. “Anyone else would be dead already, but because it is you two...” The threat was issued clearly, as Joachim's Force of Will released Alucard and his hand fell away from Trevor, but the tone used to convey it was soft, wounded, and downright vulnerable sounding. “I will tell you only once. Never touch Walter's ring without my permission again.”
That... was it? No ghostly swords tearing the building down to rubble around them? No metal shrapnel pulled from the swears and surrounding homes? No broken bones or even broken skin? Not a scrape or a cut was doled out. Hell, maybe not even a bruise, given how controlled his grip on Trevor had been. It seemed like Joachim was going to let the brunette off lightly after all. That snake charming Trevor Belmont was free to live another day in large part to his charisma. A goddamn escape artist in more ways than one.
“Okay.” Trevor nodded in a soothing tone, while reaching out towards the Vampyre that had just spared him plaintively. The Hunter looked hurt when the Vampyre gave him a wide berth to exit the dark office without so much as a second glance. If his training was coming along as well as the Vampyre had claimed it to be, then he should have felt the wounded, unstable energy crackling around Joachim all on his own. There wasn't even really a point in Alucard saying 'I told you so' out loud. From Trevor's expression, he keenly felt and was guilt-ridden by Joachim's explosive reaction.
While maybe Trevor hadn't wriggled out of danger so much as Scott-free, he was still the proud owner of all his limbs, fully intact. Still better an outcome than Alucard had been fearing in the lethal moment.
“Come here.” Alucard urged, standing up to pull the forlorn smaller man back into his arms. “It's okay. We should consider ourselves very lucky it was just a brief scare, that's all. Nothing too terrible happened. Just some shaken trust, hurt feelings and some unsteady nerves.” Honestly, it was surprising there was no bloodshed. A lucky break if there ever was one. “Perhaps my little prințesă will listen to her prinț one of these days? Sometimes he knows what he's talking about.”
“Is it all right to let him..?” Wary of sensitive Vampyre hearing, Trevor took his larger hand in his own, laying it palm up to spell out letters as opposed to voicing his concerns.
He did not want to hurt us. The ring made him do that. It is hexed, and we need to get it off him somehow. You owe it to him. He takes care of us.
Inhaling sharply, Alucard let out an annoyed noise somewhere between a groan and a moan. Flipping the Hunter's hand over palm-up, he spelled out his own reply with a hard finishing poke when he was done. Drop it. You are one lucky bastard, but even you will run out of luck eventually. So long as you leave it alone, he is fine. Trevor did not appreciate his answer but Alucard pulled away, refusing to have a silent argument written out back and forth on sweaty palms for the next forty minutes which by the look on the Hunter's face is exactly what would have been in store had Alucard not drawn the line. If the Hunter knew so much about hexes as he claimed, then he should have known that any wizard, warlock or witch worth their salt would have ensured part of the hex made the victim protective of the cursed object. What good was hexing someone if they were going to sell or toss the very bauble you were using to hex them in the first place? Trevor should have known better, so instead of butting heads with a stubborn Belmont, he turned on his heel and went hunting for his abandoned phone, found intact and without any scratches due to the heavy-duty case. Only took a few dozen cracked screens since smart phones came into fashion for him to invest in various temper-tantrum proof cases moving forward.
“Give him a few minutes before you get back in his face about whatever. I mean it, Trevor.” Leaving it at that, he glanced at the phone in his hands. There was a message from Julius waiting but little else. As he was about to click onto the notification a long dormant contact on his messaging app lit up and jumped to the top of the queue. “What the fuck..?”
Banphrionsa: No extras. Don't tell me about your day. Just tell me how my Dad is. Can't reach him. Worried.
Well that made sense. Joachim had been out of commission until just now and his phone was still sitting next to a bowl of half eaten popcorn. Debating how best to answer, Alucard stared at the little green circle indicating Leila was live and waiting. She hadn't messaged him in years. That was not an exaggeration either, it had been literal years. Was this progress or was it that she really was just that worried about Joachim, having seen him unconscious the night before, that she'd caved and ended their longstanding cold war? Since it was her choice to reach out first, perhaps he could use this opportunity to soften her up towards him a little before he returned? It could certainly make things less awkward and tense, right? It's not like he was asking for a miracle either, just that she tolerate he also breathed air and sometimes it was air in the same room as she was, currently. While he debated how best to try and make some inroads with the brat, her next message popped in. All good will and dreams of compromise evaporated with it.
Banphrionsa: You're useless. Alive or dead. That so hard, or is giving me a one word reply too much effort for his Ambassador-Dictatorship?
Al's Diner: Ask him yourself.
“Fuck, this girl is so impatient.” Stomping out of the office with his own phone, he typed out the hasty reply on his way to the kitchen where he could hear Joachim mixing up batter of some kind and shoved the phone at him. It was already dialing Leila. “Your pain in the ass, Sire.”
The emotionless expression on Joachim's face melted away the moment her voice could be heard shouting expletives at an impressive curse per second speed. The girl definitely had her mother's lungs. “Oh my. It's me, Angel.” The Vampyre informed the banshee mid-tirade. She sweetened instantly much to Alucard's chagrin. Leila was going to take way more work then he had the patience for at current. “Have we not discussed this at length? You should not speak to Kitten like that. I don't want to listen to such crude language or suffer screaming matches non-stop once we all arrive home. Give it at least a week to let the new Little One settle in before you start letting the banshee in you out.”
Over the air he could already hear her accusing Joachim of blatant favouritism, being too forgiving of his 'stupid pet's problematic behaviour', and even going so far as calling Alucard his 'abusive spouse-beater' deadbeat-husband. Which was partially, true, he would admit. He had perpetuated a shameful, horrible act of unwarranted domestic violence, and Joachim had been too forgiving of his crimes, as per usual. Not to mention, knowing he was Joachim's favourite was an advantage he used often.
Like right now.
“Listen to you father, Leila. He's full of wisdom.” He instigated loudly, suffering a smack from Joachim's battered covered whisk for the quip. By the stuttering choking sound Leila was making, it was totally worth getting batter splattered over. He walked away as she was breathing more fire into the receiver in order to find Trevor changing into one of the few articles of clothing that had not been packed up and shipped ahead of time. “I just got yelled at by a banshee.” He informed the Hunter loudly enough there was no way Joachim, and by proxy, Leila, had not heard. “A really bratty antagonistic banshee. I'm in a bad mood now. Can I help you take off those pants? It would improve my day if you said yes.”
“I just put these pants on, sorry.” Trevor replied flatly in a conversational volume, tilting his head. “I found her sweet and funny when we spoke. What's your deal with her?”
“She's just like her mother, that's my deal with her.”
“Where is her mother? Back in the village?”
Ready to respond sardonically to the next defence of Leila Trevor would spit out, Alucard faltered a bit at the question, unsure how to answer with any tact. “Her mother is dead.” Looks like blunt was what he reacted with, but by Trevor's measured look, the Hunter wasn't exactly pleased with his approach here either. Softening his tone, he explained simply, but with a touch more compassion for the dead. “Her mother was a famous vocalist. The first demon popstar whose albums sold multi-platinum across the globe back in the 1960's. I know that doesn't mean anything to you, so let's just say she was really famous bard and people would travel across countries and over seas to come listen to her sing and perform. She was also the Demon Ambassador back then”.
“...How did she die?”
“...Ambassador's are sometimes targets for assassination, and so was she. Her death was a political point made by deeply conservative parties. Ones that were firmly of the opinion there shouldn't be demons in human spaces, be it local or a world-wide stage. Certainly we shouldn't be giving human awards that recognize human achievement to... Non-humans.”
“...Oh.” Trevor's expression fell, his lower lip chewed by troubling thoughts. As there was truly nothing that could be said about the former Demon Ambassador's tragic end beyond weak pointless sympathy, Trevor spared them both the empty gesture, instead focusing on what remained. “After her death then, Joachim took in her daughter, I assume. And they now both live with you... Does she hate you because you are the Demon Ambassador now instead of her mother?”
Trevor did not have the story quite straight, but there would be another time to go over this tragic tale in more detail later. “I am certain that does not help the matter, but no. While it would be nice to blame the situation, or the fact that I was supposed to protect her mother when she was murdered by a hate group... Leila does not like me because I have not been conducting myself as a likeable person for a long time now. She hates me because I am detestable to her... And she's not wrong to feel that way.”
“Joachim said that you would blame her attitude if I asked about why you two do not get along.” Trevor smiled briefly. “Looks like he was wrong in that assessment.”
“Until very recently, I would have. I think almost dying made me reevaluate what I've been doing the last two hundred years.”
“So you're trying to be a more likeable person, you said?” Trevor's smile returned again for another brief flash of warmth. “Based off the tone you used while speaking to her, you're going to have to work harder on conveying that intent... If you need to smooth things over with 'Darling Leila', I can help coach you there too, if you'd like. Women all seem to love me, and I am fond of them.”
“How about you just drop this tangent too, along with any ideas about buttering up any women in the future, on my behalf or not?” Alucard suggested sternly instead. “You are all over the place this morning, you know that? I have no idea what's going on inside that thick skull of yours.”
“It's because I am nervous.”
“Nervous..?” Trevor's abrupt confession had been rushed and under his breath, and before Alucard quite cottoned on to what had just been shared, the Hunter was ducking beneath his outstretched hand to retreat back into the living room. There wasn't a whiff of such a thing as unease in the scent around the other man, but similar to Joachim, Trevor had always been skilled at hiding such telling emotions from sensitive noses.
Is he still shaken up about his night terror this morning, or because his new best friend chewed him out? Or... Well. There is that Church scrutiny he's about to be subjected to. But that's Joachim's fault, not mine.
Following Trevor's lead, he changed into a business casual suit eschewing both a tie and, for once in his life, not even buttoning his black shirt up to the neck, instead leaving the definition of his collarbones and the dip at his sternum on full display. While the Hunter seemed to prefer the scoops and v-shaped necklines in modern fashion, similar to how he seemed entirely incapable of lacing his shirts up passed his chest back in the fifteenth century, Alucard was no longer convinced it was out of comfort or an afterthought. Trevor knew what he was doing when he under-dressed like that, and two could play at that game. The sudden desire to ooze sexuality certainly had nothing to do with his promised prințesă suggesting she use her wiles on another woman, to Alucard's benefit or not. Definitely not. Most certainly not because Joachim supposedly had a more handsome face either.
Hovering just outside the kitchen watching Joachim slice up fruit by hand as his ghostly tendrils buttered a pan and started to pour out those thick Welsh pancakes, was Trevor. The Hunter twisted the ends of a captured section of hair around his finger, winding up, untwisting, only to wind up all over again, every ministration mindless... Perhaps more accurately described as nervously. When the Vampyre placed the fruit bowl on the table and finally met his eyes, the Hunter looked the perfect image of contrite. His body language spoke of soft vulnerability, innocence lost, inviting another to comfort him and forgive a honest mistake. His scent betrayed nothing still, but Alucard could see that slow nigh-imperceptible sway of Trevor's body, and that the mesmerizing effect had captured Joachim.
Is he actually..? What a manipulative little monster. A goddamn incubus, that Trevor Christopher Belmont!
Even if the Hunter could not pick up scents like the two Moroi were capable of, out of habit alone Joachim let out a brief mist of a calming aroma, as he would when dealing with Alucard. A courtesy show of his mood, or brief warning of his temper. Here it was to signal that the Vampyre was no longer angry and Trevor's show of guilt was not necessary. Seriously, not even Alucard could be so easily forgiven for touching Walter Bernhard's ring by his Vampyre Master. If Joachim was clearly indicating who was his current favourite, then maybe Leila and he would be better suited joining forces after all, jointly taking out this threat to the hierarchy before it's power continued to amass. Alucard, for one, had gotten used to enjoying the status of golden child and all the attention he got from it.
“It's onerous enough with Kitten moping and groveling at my feet, let's not have you start as well, Belle Lapin.” When Trevor made no move from the door, the Vampyre pulled out one of the kitchen stools and motioned him to sit. “I am over it, so you should be as well. Now, let's eat. It will be our last brunch in this house together.”
“What do you mean?” Alucard asked, stepping into his soon to be former kitchen by all accounts. Joachim was pulling a stool out for him as well, which he took with a tight smile, wondering idly if being shifted down to second-favourite still got you chairs pulled out or doors held open regularly, or this was just a passing courtesy. The Vampyre returned his phone before he could wonder too long about such a silly concern, which was already displaying an official communication from the Church HQ to his office's official email contact. Eliza was sending her private jet tomorrow, with a departure time set for the early evening. The request to arrive early in order to pre-clear customs and arrange a security detail was waiting for his agreement. “Oh... I guess this is really the end of the line for my Japanese stint, huh.”
“We are leaving soon?” Trevor asked in a low voice. Blue-grey eyes kept shifting back and forth between the Dhampyre and Vampyre expectantly.
“Yes, tomorrow eve.” Alucard answered. “A little sooner than I was expecting, if not downright sudden, but by Liza's secretary's message, they are aware it is short notice and can delay a day or two if necessary.”
“Can we just get it over with?” Trevor murmured his question, now fixing his gaze on the fluffy fat pancakes placed before him. “Let us get this 'pending review' nonsense done with and hurry to your village?”
Alucard felt a pull on his heartstrings and found his hand reaching across the table to lay over Trevor's. Unlike earlier, there was a palpable nervous edge to the Hunter's question and his scent enforced it. “No one is going to hurt you, all right? I will not allow it. You are going to be with me the entire time and if there is anything you do not consent to, they will not be forcing you. The same goes with my own person, so don't worry about that. Our visit is voluntary and my presence is diplomatic. I am free to leave when I choose.” He waited for Trevor to meet his eyes and nod before he removed his hand and let the brunette pick up his fork. “We are in agreement, then. Let's advise them the short notice is fine and just get it over with.”
“Your car has been sold, Kitten. I will be dropping it off with the buyer later tonight. Will your human pets be giving you a ride or shall we schedule a taxi ahead of time?”
“They're going to be my security detail until we land in Romania and our guys take over.” Alucard chuckled, typing out his reply for Missy and volunteering Yoko and Julius for the task whether they wanted it or not. It would be better for Trevor to have them around instead of faceless Church officials, given his already evident discomfort level. Eliza wasn't going to be able to say no when the pair were already boarding the same jet. Popping back over to the messenger app he quickly superimposed a picture of Yoko's face over that of a burly bouncer and hit send, thanking her in advance for keeping him safe. She would get a kick out of that, he mused.
Before he could finally tap on Julius' pending message Trevor pushed away his half-eaten pancakes to instead stare at him with his chin resting on a curled hand. “Would I have to... speak?”
“To Yoko and Julius..?”
Trevor shook his head and withdrew, folding his arms around himself instead. “For this 'review'. Or to board the plane?”
The question hung in the air as Alucard was a bit taken aback. The relief he'd felt in hearing Trevor's voice after the poor thing had fallen mute with trauma was still fresh in his mind, as was the agony of being deprived of his voice. Would being subject to the kind of inquest the Church had likely arranged perhaps be too much for the Hunter? Alucard wouldn't risk another shut-down if he could help it. Reaching out again, he took both of Trevor's hands this time in his own, and rubbed his thumbs soothingly across the tops of them. “If you do not wish to speak to the examiners, then don't. You are not being forced into anything, and I mean it when I say that when you've had enough and you want to leave, we are gone.” Doubling down on his promise, he even put it out there that this was entirely a voluntary act of good will. “If you don't want to go at all, you won't. I can tell Eliza that much. There are other ways of smuggling you overseas.”
Trevor's eyes closed as he inhaled slowly, opening again with a little sigh. “That would be problematic for you and for my grandchildren, I imagine. They took some of my blood and hair because they said it would help prove I am their ancestor. If I do not show up to have the Church verify that I am Trevor Christopher Belmont as well as the source of those samples, then their story about the witch coven and myself is just that; A story. Correct?”
“Verifiable evidence is... Preferred. But--”
“Then we will go and the Church can do whatever they like to test if I am the genuine article.” Trevor cut him off with a smile. “If I don't have to speak to prove it, then I won't... Thank you for giving me the option to refuse, however.” Pulling his hands back, the Hunter took a moment to study him, soft gaze trailing down and back up again at a leisurely pace. Once they were looking into each other's eyes, a smile containing an entirely different kind of warmth pulled at the corners of the man's pale pink lips. “You look nice today.”
Before Alucard could pounce on him the Hunter was on his feet and had collected their dishes to wash, moving out of range. As he swept back to collect coffee cups he paused at Joachim's side and gently fingered the bruises along the Vampyre's neck. They were already a mottled fade of green and mostly yellow, courtesy of Trevor's gift of a bloodmeal. Pale hands rising higher, Trevor examined the similar injuries to the side of Joachim's face, going so far as to brush and tuck the hair on that side behind his ear so as to get a full look at the remaining damage. The subtle way Joachim shivered at the touch caught the Dhampyre's attention, as Joachim never responded that way to casual touch as far as he was aware.
“These are looking so much better already. What an enviable ability of you Vampyres.” The Hunter whispered, repeating the motion of brushing silver hair behind a pointed ear without evident reason this time, as the strands were already pulled and tucked away neatly by the first pass. Tapered fingers paused around the curve behind the Vampyre's ear before they changed course to instead ply the pointed tip between thumb and forefinger. If Trevor noticed the little stifled shivers his actions caused, he gave no sign. “Joachim, is there a reason why your ears are so small compared to Adrian's? They are more like mine than his.”
Between Trevor's toying fingers, the tip of the captured point tinged with a rosy hue. Not long after so did the one on the opposite side of his head. Acknowledging that this was the point he should have probably started to feel possessive and jealous, Alucard instead found himself passively interested in seeing where this sudden pivot was going to go. Those ruby-tipped points were oddly eye-catching. Didn't they do that this morning too? I thought he had a fever because of their colour.
“Kitten was born a Dhampyre, that is why he has more typical Vampyre features, unlike myself who was changed. My human-shaped ears mutated along with other parts of my body during the process. I believe it took around a decade for them to end up how they look now.” It was a simple explanation that satisfied Trevor's curiosity and was news to Alucard. Sure he had noticed the physical differences in their bodies in spite of both being Vampyric, but the thought had never occurred to him to ask if there was a reason why. Was it because they were mutated that those impish little pointed ears flushed so prettily when plied? Seeing as how the colour was starting to creep down from the tips to the lobes and now to dust his cheekbones, perhaps that was just how Joachim blushed? Who would think six hundred years together later, you could still learn a thing or two about a guy. Alucard didn't even now he could blush, if that's what it was. “If Walter had changed me while I was still younger, than I may have been able to mutate more closely in resemblance to Kitten. But if he was going to change me so late, I wish he had waited a year or two more. Then I may have been able to grow the kind of beard like our sweet Princeling is sporting.”
The freely shared lament drew out a rich laugh from Trevor, making him charitable enough to openly divulge his own apparent disappointment and body dysmorphia. “We're in the same boat. I don't even have hair on my body under my belt, let alone a beard. Look at my arms. Completely bare, right? I thought that was normal but once all the boys at Church started becoming men I learned that it's not. Real men have body hair, Joachim. I feel like I resemble a child sometimes.” Mumbling more under his breath, Trevor murmured something despairing to the effect that even women had hair down there.
“And here I thought you were just incredibly manscaped.” The Vampyre choked out. “The world takes all kinds, Little One. Even nubile seal-skinned creatures like yourself.”
“I am not that little, you giant.” The Hunter bit back, defensibly. “It seems I have to routinely remind everyone I am a grown man. I had two wives. Five children.”
Alucard mused in his own world as a happy observer to the current conversation. It was news to him that someone like Joachim ever stood in front of the mirror and despaired about the overall state of his appearance, but kind of comforting to know that there were mundane and inane things even an ancient Vampyre fretted about uselessly. It was cute, as well, how equal parts confident and shy Trevor could be at the same time about his body. That the body he flaunted so easily when he wanted something, knowing it would help achieve a positive result, was also somehow a source of personal angst. The Dhampyre wondered idly what that was like while listening to them lament their self-proclaimed shortcomings. How did it feel to be staring into your own reflection and hating some innocuous feature looking back at you. On a lighter side, he had a moment to appreciate how charming it was that Trevor always included the babe that had died in Esteé's womb in his personal count of children. It was such a touching sign of respect towards a snuffed desired new life. His smile vanished the moment the morbid thought crossed his mind that given Trevor's track record... Maybe he should count six instead of five. It was probably twins the second time too with the little Irish girl.
“I mean no offence, Bunny. 'Little One' is a common term of endearment demon parents or masters use to refer to the ones under their care. When I call you that, it is simply a short-hand way of telling you and everyone around us that I have a fondness for you that is as strong as a familial bond. Being my 'Little One' means that if someone threatens you, they should be well prepared to deal with me at the same time. That is permissible with you?”
“Oh...” Trevor released the ear he was playing with in order to scratch his own hair self-consciously. “It's fine then. I am happy to be your 'Little One' if it means you are on my side should a fight break out. Do I have to call you 'Master' too? And how come I almost never hear you refer to Adrian in such a manner? Isn't he your 'Little One' as well?”
“Kitten is... Special.”
“Kitty's also bigger than both of you, and will not be referred to in the same sentence as 'Little' anything.” The only time he would accept that treatment from the Vampyre was when he was severely injured – or drunk – and needed some Grade A pampering. It was perfectly acceptable to be Little One when he wanted and needed someone to dotingly bring him the hot cocoa he was in too much pain or hungover to get up and fetch himself. “Speaking to the earlier topic, allow me to apologize for my virile beard and masculine body hair making you small boys feel like less of a man.” Alucard offered his fake-ass condolences along with a winning smile. “It must be rough having to bask in my rugged good looks on a daily basis, seeing as how I am an absolute unit of a man.”
“Absolutely infuriating some times.” Trevor didn't even try to deny it. “If only you had been born with some flaw that could humble you.”
“How can there possibly be any room left in your heart for Bunny when you already love yourself to this excess?” Joachim rolled his silver eyes but they were twinkling with a quiet and reserved mirth. “Pretty Rabbit, you need to stop feeding his ego, you've created a complete vain monster.”
“At least it's a sultry, if vain, monster.” Trevor shrugged, folding his arms and leaning back on the closest stool to study his creation in all it's glory. “Perhaps there is some form of punishment that will help it see the error of it's shallow ways.”
“Ha!” The Dhampyre delighted, jumping to his feet for two entirely different celebrations. On top of being wholly appeased with compliments and Trevor-certified hot, he'd just realized that he could see that playful glint in Joachim's eyes clearly as well as the burning lust in Trevor's cool steel. “Guess what?” He didn't wait for any guesses, too excited to share the good news. “My vision has been completely restored. I can see you, Trevor Belmont... And you look exquisitely provocative as well.”
“That's because I am trying this new regimen with my hair.” A struggling voice divulged, hardly able to finish the next sentence due to laughter. “It's called basic hygiene with a touch of upkeep. It's all the rage with the kids, I hear.”
“Oh?”
Still fighting a fit of laughter, Trevor wheezed. “Yeah, get this. So I just... Wash my hair. Regularly. And then I even comb it. Wild right?”
Unable to resist threading his fingers through Trevor's chestnut locks, the Dhampyre admired the silky strands catching the light with a rich lustre. While the tresses were still stick-straight, there was a bit of body and gloss to the formerly limp mop. “Hmm... Even the red in it is standing out more. You should definitely keep using my hair products. They're clearly doing good work.”
From seemingly out of nowhere, Trevor's easy scent and mirth quite suddenly begun to carry the same notes of someone who was extremely anxious or bashful. Once the aroma filled the air, the Hunter shook his fingers off with the toss of his head and stood up from the table. “I suppose I should finish packing then, as I imagine there won't be time tomorrow morning. I'm happy you're all better, Adrian.”
Well, almost all better. After all that flattery and flirting he should have felt something below his belt. Alas, it was a cold and desolate landscape with no sign of life as far as the eyes could see. It's not like he needed to say that out loud, however, so he just returned Trevor's small smile and watched him leave to do just the task he cited. That is an ass I would like to tap, Little Adrian. Work with me, buddy. Why couldn't his dick remember all the good times they had together? This was so unfair.
With Trevor no longer occupying all his focus, the rush of the outside world and all the stimuli within his web of protection nearly knocked the wind out of him. How the hell had he ever managed all this information? All these moving parts and energies? Clawing his way back to a semblance of control, he was vaguely aware that he had lost his balance at some point and was being half held by a familiar, comforting shape. Children were playing late into the afternoon before mothers called them in for dinner and old men were still clearing the last of the snow away from the walkable paths. Across the stream behind his house in the park were several couples walking leisurely in hand. Some drank hot Americanos, while others snacked on fresh baked goods. Most importantly, and what he should have been paying attention to all along, was that nowhere in the surrounding area did Alucard feel the presence of Lilû or another Arcane user. They were still safe... So he simply needed to get a grip. Joachim had done this for weeks, drained, starved and without rest. Alucard could do it too.
“Enough now, sweet Kitty.” Still ragged in tone but with a returning hint of the rich velvet that made Joachim's voice so pleasant to listen to in the first place, the Vampyre dismissed him from his duty. “Your gift has allowed me to restore my body significantly, so thank you. As you can feel, I am much better than I was this morning. I will take it from here.”
The snow storm had closed the office the husband of the woman trying to have a child worked at. They had woken up together for the first time in a long time, and like newlyweds, were going at it like wild animals all day. For some reason Alucard found that second-hand sensation funny, and silently rooted for their efforts to pay off. It was so amusing for whatever reason that he only noticed he'd been carried back into the office and placed on the couch when a concerned Vampyre's face was leaning over, hovering hands just above his body to guide and calm his unsteady aura.
“Better now?” Joachim asked, his essence already gliding along Alucard's web in preparation to resume his vigil. While the Dhampyre gathered his senses, the elder demon offered his compliments in a soothing hush. “You should be proud of yourself. This kind of stimulus is not so different from the emotional connections you struggle with, and here you have been maintaining it for hours without allowing yourself to be overwhelmed.”
The hands guiding his energy to a calm were too inviting, so he leaned forward to press the side of his face into one and close his eyes for a minute. It was easier to focus with that physical connection intact.
“Perhaps it has been because your latest absence has lasted so long I was unable to keep track, but I am truly stunned at your progress, Kitten. No matter how I observe you, I cannot fathom how you've grown so strong so quickly.”
I have a theory... It wasn't one he could outright say quite yet, but also one he was rapidly losing the luxury of keeping to himself. The incoming dilemma was no longer whether to confess or keep quiet, and more did he tell Joachim first so that they could plot the best strategic approach... Or fess up to the Iron Maiden and let the chips fall where they may?
“Enough, let go. You've done well.” The Vampyre prodded, his web now fully in place for Alucard's hand-off.
Pride or something else in the same vein had him shake his head and pull away from the comforting hand in a more direct refusal. Joachim had done this for weeks. Alucard was not going to throw in the towel over a few hours, especially not when he'd felt the strain in that surrounding secondary webbing. “You're much better, yes, but not better. I can feel you wavering, so don't even try to lie about it.” Gauging that Joachim was a bit taken aback, he went on the offensive to push his argument. “Your stubbornness about consuming a freely offered bloodmeal has still left you hungry and weaker than optimal. You only took from Trevor what you needed to regain consciousness, right?”
“I don't see the need to devour my loved ones when I can easily hunt.”
“That is the problem here. You're not hunting, Joachim, you have been babysitting me. When we leave you will be all alone wrapping up Genya Arikado's loose ends. Why are you not using this opportunity more wisely? If you won't eat properly when a Belmont offers, which, may I stress, is the equivalent of turning your nose up at a perfectly cooked filet mignon, then at least go out while I am here and catch your own dinner.”
“I must be worse off than I originally believe given I even consider what you are saying for a moment...” The Vampyre surrendered fairly easily, without any grandstanding. “When I drop off your car to the buyer I will take a little extra in payment. After I return fed and strong, you will focus on your own recovery and stop fretting over my health. It will not look good on any of us if the Demon Ambassador shows any signs of weakness in front of Iron Spikes for Jesus.”
“Deal.” It was an easy compromise to make, given how he was of the same opinion. Eliza presented herself as a neutral overseer of a biased organization, but Alucard was no stranger to putting on a convincing front.
Joachim seemed to find this a satisfactory conclusion, pushing back from the table to finish the partial clean-up Trevor had abandoned in favour of packing. Alucard stayed out from under foot nursing his coffee, while checking work emails eventually recalling there was that little pending message from Julius waiting. He found himself humming thoughtfully out loud enough that is drew the Vampyre's brief attention, running the pros and cons of complying with the unexpected request awaiting him. It seemed... Soma wanted to meet with him. No pressure or anything, the kid had stated, but Julius elaborated that Soma was probably going to ask him about why they had a lot of the same abilities, and that Soma was aware he was using a glamour.
The sky was starting to darken significantly when he looked up from the phone with a cold mug of coffee in hand. Trevor and Joachim were in coats and boots in the the threshold to the kitchen, evidently having been trying to get his attention for quite some time now.
“We're going to drop the car off. I am taking the Little One with me for fun. He needs a change of scenery to improve his mood, I believe. You, I trust, will keep yourself safe?”
“Yeah... Of course.” He answered automatically, a little stupefied. How had time passed so quickly..? Walking the pair out to the front door, he waved them off with a smile solely for show. That was a beautiful car he was going to miss. “Stay out of trouble.”
“Trouble finds me, not the other way around.” Trevor quipped while sliding into the passenger side.
“Trouble knows better than to seek me out, so perhaps we'll break even this outing.” The Vampyre replied playfully while cleaning off the vehicle.
Alucard left them to their own devices and closed the door. Inside and alone, he paced the mostly vacant space that had been his temporary shelter for nearly seven years. Genya Arikado had been an easy persona to slip into the near decade ago when all signs pointed to the veil thinning in this country being not a matter of if but when. Four years later there was the Eclipse incident, Graham Jones' hubris, and like a moth to the flame, his father's soul had crossed the ocean just by happenstance to go to school as a foreign exchange student in the country the Castle would be pulled into. Or perhaps it was not the Castle but little Mina Hakubu who had called for him. They'd come together when she was Elizabetha, as Lisa Fahrenheit, as Mina Harker, and possibly others Alucard did not know about. This time it seemed like Mathias and Elizabetha could finally live together as their hearts desired, and as fate originally intended.
It... Seemed like his decision was made. Fetching his own coat and boots he shifted form into a bat and took to the skies. The Shrine was not too far that he would not be able to maintain his protective web remotely around their home. It was getting late, but he had a feeling Soma would forgive him the imposition of showing up at dinner time, given he'd requested the meeting in the first place.
Above everything else, however, Alucard was forced to admit his decision was made by the harsh truth that he was a lonely forgotten son. A relic of their past lives they were better off remaining unaware of... Still. He missed them. Any incarnation of them.
He wanted to see his mother, even just one last time.
Notes:
Happy New year! Sorry for the long wait. I had to go over draft notes and reread some chapters to make sure I had all the loose ends firmly in hand. I think we got this, folks.
Chapter 49: Paradigm Shift
Notes:
I am opening up the floor to my readers. As you've noticed, everyone on the Demon messenger App has their own unique handle. ie: Yoko = YoBear & Hammer = Hambone. I have two characters that I have not picked out handles for; Julius & Joachim (Trevor has one already chosen for later) I am taking suggestions to help choose an appropriate one for the J's
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Hakubu Temple, Tokyo
“This surprised me a little, honestly. At most what I believed I'd get was a politely worded message from your office that you'd have to decline my invite.” The albino man before the Dhampyre spoke softly, with a wariness in his scent that was not so much a fear of him specifically, but more of an apprehension that each word spoken, if chosen carelessly, might be the word that chased away the figure before him. Soma moved aside in order to make room for Alucard to duck through the sliding shoji into the dimly lit and drafty interior, heated only by candles and a humming space heater. Such were traditional Japanese homes constructed. Soma did not seem to mind the chill, although he slipped beneath the kotetsu at first chance under the pretense of laying out tea accoutrements. “Matcha?”
“Please...” Alucard replied, reserved in both sound and movement as he slid the whisper quiet paper panel shut against the winter air beyond. Genya Arikado's grey eyes studied the younger man furiously whisking green powder into a creamy froth, noting how much taller Soma looked somehow, even half buried within the heated blanket. Either he'd grown or it was simply a newfound assured confidence that had him holding himself at full height. Undeniably, the pale youth had filled out more in the span of time since Alucard had last laid eyes on him. Prominent shoulder and back muscles worked under a thin white shirt just by pouring and whisking a few cups of tea.
“Here. Come sit.” Soma urged, placing the steaming mug at the spot he'd designated for the Dhampyre.
Alucard sat down rather obediently, which was worth noting. He'd not sat because he was a guest offered a place, but because the man before him had instructed him to do so, and even after all this time his initial gut reaction was to do what this man said, every time. He sat as commanded, but stayed silent, waiting wordlessly for Soma to make the first move. For this incarnation of the Great Demon King to set the mood, the pace, and the subject. When Soma started speaking, it was of his life growing up in America. The history shared were all things Alucard was aware of at an academic level, as he had done his own digging and run a background check on the man who carried his father's, for lack of a better term, 'soul'. However, all the little factoids and nuances in between the hard data shared were new, as were the intentions revealed to be behind those actions and decisions made in the young man's past. Alucard found himself content to listen to the mostly innocent life story of Soma who was both his father yet entirely a different person. Hung onto every word until Soma's tale finally came to an end at the present day, a little after revealing his school plans and decisions to stay in Japan.
Of course Soma was young and had decades ahead of him for this tale to grow, but Alucard still found himself mildly shocked that in under an hours time he'd already heard everything Soma Cruz thought it was important to share with him. Mildly shocked and oddly... Shy. Soma was just solidifying into the shape of the man he was to become, and certainly in no place to pass judgment or criticisms on one as ancient and knowledgeable as he. There was nothing to measure up to here, but perhaps it was just that a son could never truly escape that drive to be found worthy in his father's eyes – even a shadow of one's father – that made Alucard feel so exposed in that moment.
It seemed that Soma had caught on to his sudden sensitivity, as his voice that had gained strength as he'd told his tale softened quickly back into that careful tone. “You know, Mister Arikado, when you awakened my dormant powers I was not afraid. Not of the Dominance I gained, nor the similar energy I felt echoing back from your veins.” Soma began gently. “You did it to help me save Mina, and to help me protect myself, but them impression in that moment I felt was as if you were reluctant to do so at the time. I recall how pained your eyes were when you had no other choice but that or to leave me a sitting duck.”
“I... Still wish I hadn't.” Alucard revealed, fixing his eyes on his untouched matcha.
“I am glad you did.” Soma countered immediately. “I spent my whole life feeling like a part of me was missing. That part felt almost whole when I met Mina... But only complete once you unlocked that potential within me. The interesting thing is... It wasn't just me you awoke that day. Mina was right there, and since then she's been having what she calls dreams, but insists that they are memories of her past lives. She's been having them since that day, and once we escaped that facsimile of the Castle, I started to have them too. It seems as my power continues to grow, so too do my recollections of the other man I used to be.
That's... Not what I wanted at all. I wanted you both to free of the shackles your past lives put upon you.
“I told Mina everything in the end. Everything that happened during the Eclipse and after. Everything I learned from Julius and Yoko while in those bastardized versions of my former Castle, and every atrocity I was starting to remember doing as a vicious, vengeful animal. I needed her to know that I was no different than Graham and Celia once, and that every time before that we've come together something terrible has always befallen her. I needed her to know we've always suffered together, so she could decide for herself if we were going to risk doing this one more time. My past self often wondered for years on end if she would have had a better life and outcome each time if only he'd managed to let her go. If I had just... Stayed away. Not been selfish.” Soma fiddled with his empty tea cup, smiling bitter-sweetly as he studied the frothy dregs rimming the ceramic. “Even knowing how many times she's met her end just for being near me... Mina said she would still choose me every time. In any fashion. In any era.” This confession brought out a bit of giddiness the young man was quick to clamp down on, but his burst of unfettered happiness had Alucard's eyes stinging, tears threatening to well. “I am going to live this life I have now for Mina, as I always wished I had done. Whatever she wants to do and wherever she wants to be, I'm going to be there beside her. I feel like I can do that easily now... Because I don't believe that I need to worry so much about you these days... Do I?”
The question hung in the silent room, the Dhampyre struggling to process the words put to him fully. After ample time allotted by Soma where he was still incapable of responding appropriately, the younger man leaned forward to remove the untouched tea from his hands, only to capture them once more in his own and hang clasped between them.
“Would you please let me look upon my own son's face now, Adrian?” Soma asked bluntly. “I could break your glamour myself but that's a bit of a faux pas and considered rude for demons, I've recalled.” Pale blue eyes watched the very glamour in question melt away with a triumphant smirk set in place. Once the mask was completely discarded, several muted emotions danced across the pale face before Alucard. Some bitter and morose, but for the most part they were positive and warm ones. There was a fondness in those blue eyes that made his heart ache with loneliness and longing, craving the love and affection granted centuries long forgotten. “Hmm... Yoko mentioned you had been injured. Those dark red marks on your wrists and peaking out from your collar do look gruesome.”
“They don't... It's fine. I am not in any pain.” Alucard murmured hastily, forcing his hands still to keep them from trying to hide the anointed silver burn scars. “As with everything else, the marks will fade in time.”
“That beard is new as well. I've never seen you in the news or on TV, or even in my 'dreams' with one.”
This time he could not keep his hands still, as one self-consciously scratched at the white-silver whiskers. “This is not staying... As you heard, I was injured and recovering. I've been preoccupied...” At least he had thought to trim it down while still blinded in a bid to keep himself looking somewhat civilized. He should have taken a moment to make use of his clear vision and shave properly before coming. Now he looked a right mess in front of his... In front of Soma.
“You have always tried your best to put on an infallible brave face in front of me. It always made me wonder what I did to make you think you needed to do that. Have I ever told you you needed to act that way or fit into some kind to mould? I don't recall... But you know, even when you turned against me while I was mad with grief, too mad to understand why you were not in agreement with me, and too mad not to lash out at you... I never once thought I was ashamed to share blood with you. I was never once not proud of the man you grew into. You are my only son, Adrian, and nothing will ever change that.”
I can't do this. Unsure what even this was, Alucard stood up abruptly, those threatening tears now lined up in formation and just waiting for their marching orders. “Please don't...” He begged, but was unable to even gather the words required to explain to Soma that he had not come here prepared to handle his long-estranged father revealing that in spite of the centuries of strife they had put one another through, Vlad Dracula Țepeș was still proud of his first and only child.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you off.” Soma pleaded, standing in an attempt to catch him before he retreated from the dimply lit room.
I can't. I just can't let him touch me or it will be all over. Alucard skirted Soma's plaintive outstretched hand with a set frown and teeth, throwing open the shoji with a dramatic clatter only to be halted dead in his tracks lest he barrel over the small red-headed woman balancing a smaller wooden tray filled with Shiroi Koibito. Mina Hakubu's eyes widened considerably in surprise, but she regained her poise and quickly warmed up at the sight of him in spite of the fact that as far as Alucard was aware, she had never laid eyes on the looming demon before her. Her sudden appearance froze him in place. He'd only meant to take a peek at her from afar before he left the Shrine, only to satisfy his need to see his mother one last time... No matter the shape she was currently taking. The indecision and shut-down forced Soma to take hold of his shoulders and gently guide him back inside, giving Mina the room she needed to set her tray down and close the door to the frosty air outside. Before he knew it, Soma was using that gentle push to bring him back to the table and force him back down before the kotetsu.
Mina was already giving him a wide cheery grin, not unlike the ones Lisa would shoot him here and there in between working with her patients or in her lab when he was a small boy. The Shrine Maiden wasted no time handing him one of the cookies she'd fetched, which she let hover in the air until he awkwardly accepted it from the Hostess-in-Training. “You look so much different in person, it's astonishing.” The red-head observed. She shook her bouncy curls when her comment has him once again self-consciously reaching for his his beard, speaking before Alucard could even open his mouth to give an excuse for his unpolished appearance. “Nope. It's not that. Even with that scruff you look much younger in the flesh than on TV or the internet.” Mina hummed, brown eyes peering sharply at everything all at once. “Or perhaps this opinion is just another woman's affection colouring my view of you?”
...She's not your mother. Not really. You know that. Breath caught in his throat, Alucard was unable to decide what he wanted to do before ultimately in a panic-induced rush to escape, placed his offered biscuit beside the untouched matcha and tried to leave with a semblance of his grace left in tact. He was going to have a breakdown if he stayed in their confined presence any longer than he already had. This wasn't what he'd wanted for them at all. Tried, being the operative word in his failed manoeuvre.
“They are green tea flavoured. For some reason when I heard your voice I thought of green tea flavour.” Mina divulged just as Soma was standing to both try and stop him and coax him back to the table to stay for at least a small snack. He could make more matcha too so Adrian could have a fresh hot cup to drink. Nobody had called him by name beyond Joachim for centuries, and even the demon only did so sparingly when he was trying to make a serious point. Even the Church records did not have his full birth name on file. How could these two just so casually...
Halting once more by the shoji, he grit his teeth and in as neutral a tone as he was capable of in the moment stated firmly. “I am Ambassador Alucard Țepeș, the Demon Prince of what I wish to be a long banished Castle, and a Dhampyre. An infernal creature also classified as Moroi.” His wavering voice was not as neutral as he'd like to be, but it would have to do if he wanted to bring the focus back to the present reality. Not dreams and memories of lives past. The here and now. “Moroi do not require sustenance of this source, thank you. Furthermore, I am required back in Romania urgently, and will be leaving on a flight tomorrow. I should take my leave now and leave yourselves the evening to enjoy.” The over-explanation came fast as he scrambled to detach from the emotions welling up. It was time to leave as he had gotten what he came here for originally. Confirmation that Soma and Mina were happy and healthy and would likely remain so. In his own way, confirming that information was him saying goodbye and wishing them well. His leaving them without the burdens and memories he carried was supposed to be a parting gift. Their surprising familiarity towards him was threatening the clean break he'd envisioned on the flight over. The plan to selfishly satisfy his curiosity and steal a final glance in passing at the reincarnation of his mother was in tatters, so in a last bid to leave them before he enmeshed their lives any more in his mire, he moved to the door and spoke stiffly. “It is a great relief to see you both well after what you went through, truly. Thank you for your hospitality. I wish you many happy years together.”
As he placed his clawed hands once more on the handle to slide the parchment door to the side, less violently this time, a Force of Will pushed against him. Nowhere near the strength required to confine or even slow down a demon of his fortitude, but the sheer audacity of the attempt and that cozy familial energy used to try had him spinning around on a heel against his better judgment to glare at the young stripling with open agitation... Only to find that even when glaring at Soma, the aura being exuded by the younger man was... Well it was no different than what he recalled from centuries ago, if only weaker. Here Alucard was, a rebellious brat and spoiled heavily by his accommodating parents, giving his bemused and over-indulgent father an incredulous look that was met with only fondness.
It was not Soma Cruz that he was taking five large huffy steps towards, it was Vlad Dracula Țepeș. It was Mathias Cronqvist he took to bended knee before, if only to look into those pale blue eyes his memories painted as grey pitch. “Seriously?” His low timbre hissed rather thinly and high given his usual baritone. And how exactly did you believe this was going to go down, Soma Cruz? Do you think a fledgling Arcanist, and a mortal one at that, is going to pin down an eight hundred year old demon warrior?
“Do you remember how I used to have to hide the cookies in increasingly secretive and dangerous places just to ensure they'd make it to tea-time or after dinner while you were growing up?” Soma stated with a warm chuckle. “Don't even try to give me that line about 'not requiring sustenance of that kind'. The fact that you don't need to eat sweets has never once stopped you, Adrian.” Openly laughing in his face at the indignation he no doubt wore, the albino man threw up his hands. “What? It's true! Nothing slowed you down; you were an snacking machine.”
“I was growing.” He snapped, irritated and defensive.
“For the first twenty. What's your excuse for the other one hundred and eighty years then?”
Alucard found himself so speechless it was actually a relief to have little Mina Hakubu break the tension with a hearty peel of laughter. She seemed to be having a hell of a time getting herself under control, but once she mostly reigned in her mirth, the Shrine Maiden leaned forward and held a white-filling green biscuit out towards his lips, hovering there until he at last caved and took a bite. Watching him chew the sweet methodically and slow, she quirked an eyebrow and she quipped knowingly. “See? Green tea flavoured cookies and crullers are your favourite. I remember that.”
“...They are good.” Admitting defeat, the Dhampyre sat back hard on the ground, ignoring the pillow that had been placed for perching, and with a mighty sigh took the remainder of the cookie from Mina's slender hands. “There must be something you want to ask me.” He spoke in the resigned tone of one just biting the bullet. “I will answer you if I can.”
“It's really very strange. The more I look at you the more the fog clears from these dream-like memories.” Mina shared softly. “I know who I am and nothing has changed about that, yet I recall being other people vividly at times. One of those people loved you more than anything else, even her husband. You were someone's whole world once upon a time.”
“Please don't...” He pleaded feebly. There was no way he was going to be able to sit here and listen to these sweet sentiments, honeyed words he'd longed to hear for centuries, right out of the mouth of these babes, and then walk out of this temple with his dignity. You are Mina Hakubu and Soma Cruz. You aren't them anymore and I have no right to ask that you pretend that you are.
“Oh, it must be stranger still for you, I apologize. Here I am clumsily trying to fit the pieces of these other lives together in front of you when ours aren't even the faces you have in your memories. I've only known you as Mister Arikado until the Eclipse... Until I started having my dreams.”
“Is it that difficult to sit here with us now that we know who you are? Is that why you keep trying to run away?” Soma asked in a pained voice. “I don't want to cause you suffering either... To be honest I didn't really think that it might be unbearable for you to be around me. But I'm not really the Vlad Dracula you knew, now am I?”
“You have it all wrong. It's that I don't want you to be chained to the past. You're free now. I don't want to be in your way... You both deserve this clean slate.”
“You will never be considred a byproduct of a past sin, Adrian. You are proof of our past love. That's all.”
“I really am leaving tomorrow. I can't... I didn't come prepared to have a heart to heart with my quasi-parents in their new bodies. I don't know what to do. I don't know what you want from me, or what you expect me say.”
“If I may cut in...” Mina interjected with measured diplomacy. “Who says this needs to be a conversation we have right now? Why can't we just... Leave the door open for another day. When you are prepared?”
“You know where to find us.” Soma readily agreed. “We can keep in touch in other ways.”
“For now, can you manage to just not be a stranger?”
“...Don't be a stranger, huh.” Blinking hard to clear the mist from his vision, he folded into himself. It was child-like deflection against big emotions, but Alucard was currently getting tag-teamed by his pseudo parents at that very moment so he felt it was justifiable. Even if his parents were barely out of their teens. “Phone.” He reached out his hand and Soma handed his personal device over without question. Using his own as a hotspot he installed the secure demon messenger app on the young man's phone and then added his contact. He did the same for Mina in an equal pouty way, and did them the favour of sending out requests to Hammer, Yoko, and Julius. “You can change your profile and display name later.” He mumbled handing them back. “This is for demons to communicate safely, so please don't go waving it around in public.”
“Thank you.” The pair spoke in unison.
“I... Won't be a stranger.” The promise now made, his eyes lifted to gauge how Soma and Mina were taking his agreement. They seemed pleased what had be meant to be his final farewell to them had instead turned into a open door. A candle in the window to help guide him home when he was ready. “I would like to ask you both to do something for me.” Once they were both waiting expectantly for him to speak, he inhaled deeply and hardened his gaze. “I want you to never forget that you are Mina Hakubu and Soma Cruz first and foremost. The people you were in the past may inform who you are today, you maybe will not be able to help that given your returning memories, but you're Mina and Soma in this life. A long time ago I was your son, but today I am happy to just... Be your friend.”
“Sure.” Soma agreed with his gentle smile returning.
“That's a wonderful way to start.” Mina nodded enthusiastically.
“Can you do me one thing as well then, before you go?” Soma threw out there quite suddenly when Alucard was thinking the natural conclusion to this gathering had arrived. When the Dhampyre waited patiently for the younger man to continue, he did so with that triumphant grin sliding back into place. “Yoko was sharing some pictures when we had lunch earlier. I couldn't help but notice there was a familiar face I have not laid eyes on in a long time in those pics.”
“Someone you recognize that you think I'll know?”
“I would hope so since I'm talking about the Belmont who showed up with you in tow back in 1476 and punched me right in my goddamn face.” Soma's wry grin almost turned into a sneer before he seemed to let bygone be bygones through sheer disgruntled effort. “Trevor Christopher Belmont. I'll never forget that name no matter the form I exist.”
Alucard's eyes widened but he managed to keep the blush out of his features, that feeling of exposure returning all too soon and much more intensely than he cared for. “Wh-what about Trevor Belmont?” The Dhampyre ventured hesitantly. “It really is him, although I can't say how he got here.”
“I could smell you all over each other when you barged into my throne room. There were four of you and you fought as a cohesive unit, but you two were the most in sync.” Soma's firm tone began to take on a teasing one as he kept needling Alucard. “I no longer have the great sense of smell like I used to, but I'm willing to bet if I did I would be able to tell you have his scent all over you right now. Am I right?”
“I don't see how that's any of your business.” He bristled in response. “Or what this has to do with me doing you 'one thing before I go'.”
Mina traded a knowing look with Soma right before Alucard's eyes and he bristled even more at how these literal children were prodding him about his personal affairs when they'd barely gotten beyond a basic mutual acknowledgement that a long time ago, the three had been a family unit. “This Trevor Belmont is kind to you? He treats you right?” It was such a motherly line of questioning.
“I...”
Before he could even answer Mina in a satisfactory way, Soma was adding more pressure. “What about the silver-haired demon you were always with? Joachim, his name was? I saw you two are still together as well. He's been taking good care of you for a long time now.”
Alucard was loosing a battle he didn't even know had started. “I don't need to be taken care of...” It was a pathetically petulant response.
“Oh, everyone needs someone or two looking out for them, Adrian.” The Shrine Maiden insisted.
Soma was quick to prod further while he was clearly off-balance. “Yoko said you're a throuple now. That sounds complicated, but so long as your happy who are we to even judge, right?”
That was about the moment Adrian's brain broke. He hopped to his feet and waved a pointed finger back and forth between the two children who were trying to vet his potential life partners. “Yeah, we are not having this conversation, got it?” How on Earth did those two find this so god damned funny? “But for the record, I am treated like royalty. I am leaving now. Stop listening to Yoko!”
He'd actually made it outside the shoji when he heard Soma plaintively demand. “Oh come on, let us meet your boyfriends. We're very open-minded, I promise!”
“Boyfriend and husband, actually.” Mina clarified. “The Vampyre and he are married, apparently. The Belmont's their boyfriend.”
Before he slammed the shoji shut, he turned back to glare daggers at the pair of brats and all but growled. “That was a sham wedding to infiltrate a dangerous cult and it has never nor will it ever count!”
Some heartfelt farewell that turned out to be. He could not fly out of there on bat wings fast enough, cursing Yoko the whole way home.
*****
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
Alighting down in his soon to be former garden, Alucard was marginally suspicious at first to find the glass door unlocked, but the only thing he'd felt enter his web of protection while away had been a few passing cars and the inseparable duo – of late – that was Trevor Belmont and Joachim Armster. With the lights on and the door unlocked, they must have returned from the car drop off and were thoughtful enough to remember about him taking off earlier that they'd left the door unlatched. You know, on the off-chance he might want to return. That was sort of a nice balm to his lingering annoyance at being referred to twice now as the third wheel in his own relationship. At least going by the door favour, he was a wanted spare tire.
Dropping off wet boots by the front door and shrugging out of his suit jacket, Alucard opened up near every cupboard until he found the last remaining bottle of booze in the garden home and downed a third of what he rated as a serviceable bourbon on his way to the office. It was the only place Trevor and Joachim could be other than the bed, and he wasn't sure what he'd do if he found them in bed together right now. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do when he stepped into the dim office – now missing his piano as well – and found Trevor, in nothing but Alucard's teeshirt, nestled on the floor between Joachim's dressed-down thighs, face a fiery red mask as he fretted between conflicting interest and scandal at whatever Joachim was flashing him on the screen of the demon's phone.
“I-I wasn't ready for that!” Trevor bit out, half-covering his face. “Why would she send that to you? Doesn't she know you could just show anyone!?”
“Obviously, it's because she likes me.” Joachim chuckled. “Or more realistically, she saw the car I was selling and thought I had a hefty wallet. She's a Cam Girl.”
“Okay... I think I am ready now.” The covert pervert insisted, holding his hand out to take a closer look at whatever sampling of her work a dedicated Cam Girl would send a good looking man with a nice car. Trevor scrolled through Joachim's phone growing redder by the moment, and Alucard watched him do it, unable to gather the energy even to put a stop to the nonsense on display. “I can see right through her legs into daylight, Joachim. Why would she send this?”
“A tease, of course. That's how she makes a living. She gets a soon to be fan interested in her and then they pay her money to watch her on camera do some playful acts or put on a private show.”
“But she paid you money for a car? A lot of money for a car.”
“Yeah, but the chance that she'd make it all back over time if I am attracted to her enough to watch her streams is worth a gamble on her part. This is a just to pique my interest. Quite a shrewd businesswoman.”
“Is she really? This is enough to keep a man warm throughout the coldest winter nights.” Trevor stated truthfully, his complexion returning to normal now that the shock value was wearing off.
Alucard found his patience was also wearing thin, and interject at last. “That's because you're still fresh-faced and innocent enough. The porn industry is so ubiquitous these days pictures hardly do anything for anyone.” The Dhampyre explained while closing the distance between the door frame and the couch, bending once he was in range to pluck the phone from the Hunter's limp grip and quickly peruse the erotic images an admittedly very beautiful woman had sent the Vampyre after the sale of Alucard's precious car. Obviously he deleted them all before tossing the device back into Joachim's hands, which caused the Vampyre to snicker at his pettiness and Trevor to actually make a noise of disappointment. “You'll thank me later for maintaining your purity.”
“They weren't your pictures, Adrian.” Trevor chastened.
“They weren't yours either, you little perve.” He snapped right back. “If you want to look at her, pay the woman her dues and become a subscriber.”
“We could buy you a private stream for you birthday.” The Vampyre chuckled, pointedly avoiding Alucard's glare at first as Joachim's discomfort in the current situation became more apparent. Silver eyes chanced meeting gold and darted away just as fast. Now, was that because of the fact he'd caught him red-handed sharing explicit photos to the object of Alucard's overwhelmingly jealous affection, of a guilty conscious in general about how close the pair had become in spite of those aforementioned jealous affections, or because Joachim was still having a hard time looking at Alucard since he'd strangled the other demon, was the question.
Certainly the questionable and intimate position he'd discovered them in upon his return did not help the matter. It seemed like Trevor had slipped down there to be at eye level with the screen and nothing more, as only the Vampyre seemed to be feeling unnerved by Alucard's unflinching gaze. The Hunter was tilting his head to the side in that thoughtful familiar way as he rolled the offer over, deciding with a shake of his head to decline. “I have my hands full as is.” Trevor stated simply before adding with a purr. “Plus I believe she and I have conflicting business.”
Alucard continued to observe them together, the Vampyre hanging onto Trevor's every cryptic word in a stiff Alucard-conscious manner while Trevor was unperturbed by the intense fixation the Dhampyre was giving them. Leaving Alucard alone to try and parse through all the murky emotions the sight before him was bringing up. Was he annoyed or angry? As was par for the course these days, their auras were twisted together through every inch of their bodies. Touching even when they were not. At the very least Alucard must find that annoying. That has to be it, right? Given how Yoko had teased him earlier this morning. Then gone on to spread rumours about his complicated situation to Hammer, Soma and Mina. Then the young couple themselves mercilessly repeating Yoko's taunts about his suddenly uncertain foothold in his current relationship. And now walking in on exactly what could be misconstrued as emotional cheating at best... The Dhampyre should have been furious. A Desire demon's jealousy was nothing to sneeze at. So why..? Why don't I feel anything at all?
Trevor's face lit up splendidly once he'd successfully captured Alucard's full attention from the dark clouds inside a troubled mind, lifting arms to welcome him home as sweetly as he'd privately disbarged the Hunter for doing to the Vampyre, likening him to a housewife from the 50's. After a thought, it did feel rather wonderful to be on the receiving end of such a wholesome welcome. The image of a barefoot and pregnant Trevor was also oddly satisfying to humour for a minute or two as well, just as the arms around his hips were a comfort.
“I have a magick rectangle now too.” The latest and greatest in tech was pulled from out a pile of bubble wrap and cardboard and then promptly handed over to Alucard to inspect, and the Dhampyre took note of the flashy chrome case with gold details akin to a tiny vintage luggage box. There was an understated pinstripe design on the bottom portion of it and something much like lace on the top. Now that he was studying it closer, some of that gold detailing was in fact a more delicate rose-gold. Joachim had one hundred percent let Trevor pick out the cosmetic design, that was for sure.
As if continuing a conversation from earlier, Joachim finished up a rudimentary run-down about the workings of the brand new smartphone. After Trevor was taught the ins and outs of it's functionality. Joachim took a moment to stress that Trevor's new toy would not really be safe for use until the device got to the Demon Embassy in Romania. One of Alucard's aides there had already procured an encrypted sim card expressly for the Hunter's use. As the Vampyre apologized to the Hunter for a glorified PDA until they got that sim card, the elder demon shot the younger another cautionary glance, but once more could not maintain eye contact.
“Snazzy.” Alucard commented, still flipping Trevor's soon to be functional phone through his fingers and plopping down on the couch a centimetre at most from where Joachim sat, if only to test how he felt about being that close the demon his boyfriend was obviously enamoured with. Again, much to his surprise, he felt nothing at all. Just faintly happy to be back in Trevor's sphere, and relieved at least in present company, that no one was going to make crass unwanted comments about his love life, or cause him to second guess and tailspin over Trevor's devotion. Trevor had promised it was he and Alucard against the world from now on. Alucard had believed him. “The floor is cold, Trevor. Come sit up here before you get a stomach ache. Flying with a cramp is not going to be fun, I assure you.”
The Hunter obliged crawling right up and settling into his lap, legs stretched out over Joachim's with seemingly no care for the other demon's say in the matter.
“Little One, why am I always designated as your pillow?” The Vampyre asked rhetorically, knowing full well that Trevor was just going to answer with his own question.
“What do you think makes a good pillow?”
Rolling his eyes the Vampyre simply sat in silence for a bit, watching Alucard play with his pretty brunette doll's hair, caressing her in innocent places and across the more tame swathes of skin, all while Trevor sighed wistfully under his gentle ministrations. From what Alucard could tell, Joachim didn't seem jealous or possessive of either of them either. Rather he looked almost... Pleased... To watch them cuddle up together in quiet harmony. The longer the silence stretched out the more obvious it became that it was Alucard who was drawing most of Joachim's attention, and eventually the greater demon simply gave up the observation and outright asked. “What happened while you were gone? You've returned to us quite agitated.”
Before he could form a reply, Trevor was giving his hand that secret coded two short squeezes. He must have unconsciously twisted it out while he glowered about the recurring 'throuple' joke of the day. Now instead of answering Joachim right away he pulled that warm soothing Hunter in tighter and buried his nose in the curve of his neck. “I love you so much, Trevor.” It sounded like a whine and he didn't even care. “I need to get my fill of you before tomorrow. I won't be able to hold you or anything while we're in the airport or on the jet or at the Church HQ.”
“...Is it dangerous?” Trevor asked in a low voice.
“Yes.” He replied honestly.
“Because we're men, or because you're a demon and I am a human?” The Hunter hummed as he thought. “You said these days men were allowed to be together how we are now.”
“It's dangerous for a lot of reasons. I have a lot of detractors who would use you as a way to get at me. You being the Demon Ambassador's partner would put another target on your back for various hate groups. Then the whole mixing races and species thing. The demon versus religion thing. The gay angle would just be the icing on the cake for a bigot.”
“So no touching at all then.” Trevor agreed, and Alucard was a little pleased to hear he sounded glum about the upcoming intimacy embargo. The brunette twisted a bit in his lap to better throw his arms around Alucard's torso, resting his face against a sharp collarbone. “It's just a day... And I guess another day at the Church's headquarters. So two days. I waited over five hundred and fifty to do what we're doing right now one again, so I guess two days is really nothing in the grand scheme.”
“I guess not, although I really wish I had made more strides in this kind of acceptance after all these years. You're right too, it's not really that big deal in the grand scheme sure, but I feel like tomorrow I am going to be wishing that I could hold you a lot. Just a gut feeling.”
“Three days tops from now you'll have him in your actual bed, Kitten. It will be worth the wait, I imagine.” Joachim offered as solace.
Glancing over at the elder Moroi, Alucard reached out caught his chin so as to twist his face around and take a good look. “Why do you still look like shit? You were supposed to take a little extra payment from that lady you sold the car to.”
“Harsh, Kitten.” Joachim shook his hand off and turned away. “I... was not able to seal that deal.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ugh, he means I wouldn't let him drink that woman's blood, is what.” Trevor fessed up, a pungent puff of palpable aggravation filling the room.
Trevor wouldn't let the Vampyre feed? But that was the perfect chance to do it safely and have no one be the wiser. “What do you mean Trevor? He needs to eat. He's going to be all alone here after we leave.” Alucard leaned down to catch the Hunter's glowering expression before it could be wiped clean.
“He is a retired Vampyre Hunter, but still a Vampyre Hunter at heart.” Joachim offered as an excuse. “The whip came out and everything, so what was I supposed to do? It was my intention when letting the Rabbit ride shotgun to change his mind since he is worried about tomorrow, not to upset him further.”
“But you need to eat. You collapsed.” Turning back to Trevor he caught those pretty little steel jewels with his own gold and stressed again. “He needs to be at least half-strength. He wasn't going to hurt the buyer, just take a little extra in the exchange. You've experienced first hand how we can feed without killing. He probably would have knocked a few thousand bucks off the car for her trouble.”
The Hunter grumbled something indistinguishable under his breath each and every attempt Alucard prodded him a few more times to various effects until finally he sat up straight and grabbed a fistful of Joachim's borrowed shirt and pulled him in close. “ Because I was right there!”
“I... Know? I brought you there.” The Vampyre threw up his hands in confusion.
“Argh, how do you not see the problem? What if I wandered out to the street corner and just offered up a free buffet to every passing Vampyre and Succubi? How would you feel about that?”
“Well...” Joachim chewed his lower lip, running the image through his head, no doubt.
“I am firmly against you whoring yourself out to other demons, if that matters.” Alucard replied flatly. “I am tolerable and at best, accepting, of you feeding that Vampyre, and that Vampyre alone outside me. And only because that Vampyre I trust with my life.”
“That's really sweet of you to say, Kitten.” Joachim purred.
“Don't push it, 'Chim.”
“I was just mentioning it is nice to hear that you trust me out loud...” The Vampyre trailed off under his breath.
What had begun with a pleased ring to his tone flipped over to one rather dejected mutter in the end, which then went and made Alucard feel bad for giving a compliment only to rip it right back out of the other demon's hands. Marginally. Still wrapped up in his arms, Trevor elbowed him with a sharp 'tsk' for his thoughtlessness. “Be nice to him for a change.” The Hunter scolded. “What happened to the mopey guilt-trip from yesterday?”
“That was yesterday.” He retorted, but the Hunter had a valid point. Alucard had confessed to wanting to be a kinder and more considerate co-parent and partner in the found family he'd collected back in the Commune. Leila's overheard question from last night also decided to dislodge in his skull, rolling around in there until all he could think of was her asking her Daddy, 'Whose not appreciating you?'. The answer to that of course being Alucard. It was always Alucard taking advantage of Joachim's affection and dedication because the Vampyre would let him time and time again... Out of love... The Dhampyre knew that. And abused it.
“Joachim.” He reached his hand out towards the Vampyre since it seemed like Joachim enjoyed holding Trevor's so much, considering they did it every chance they got... So why not Alucard's? Joachim studied the offered hand and hesitated, so Alucard took the initiative and stretched that tiny bit further, ignoring the barest flinch Joachim instinctively recoiled with. It couldn't be helped, the expected results after years of conditioning done by Alucard's temperamental moods. “I cannot express how glad I am that you are here. I can't even begin to fathom what we would have done without your help to clean up my mess.” Genuine sentiments relayed, he circled back to his original concerns. “So it is a little troubling to me now that you are the one who needs rest and recuperation to hear that you've not fed. Especially given the golden opportunity you had to do so without risk or energy expenditure on the Only Fans girl.”
“She's a Cam Girl, not Only Fans.”
“Fine, whatever. You wasted the safe and secure golden opportunity with the Cam Girl.” Before Joachim could reply he turned to Joachim's excuse still curled up in his arms and shot Trevor a disapproving look. “As for you, you know damn well what we are and what we have to do to survive. What business was it of yours objecting to such a natural order as the food chain? He wasn't going to hurt her at all. Now he has to hunt down someone else and waste time and energy and risk himself with the Lilû out and about.”
“I do not have a problem with the fact you need to drink blood to continue your existence.” Trevor snarled, his agitated scent now thickening into one of outright anger. It threw Alucard off his intended tirade as he could not for the life of him ever recall Trevor being angry enough to let it affect his physiology. Not even when facing down Dracula had he smelled angry, only resigned and determined. “You two are obviously not listening to me because I clearly stated the problem wasn't that you needed to drink blood, it's that you were going to drink hers while I was right there!”
“So I just need to do it in private then? When you're not there to witness?” Joachim hazarded a guess.
“If it's an emergency or life and death, and I am not there, you gotta do what you gotta do. Obviously I will never object to that. But it was not an emergency and you had a choice, and I am right here!”
“Why are you making the intake of blood as sustenance into some kind of...” Joachim glanced up at Alucard, but with a mighty sigh seemed to accept whatever fallout or outburst his next selection of words may pull out of the Dhampyre at his side. “You are making sound like if I had fed on her it would have been some intimate act. I had no intention of hopping into bed with her if that's what you think was going to happen after I took my fill.”
Wait a minute... “Yeah, Trevor. Why are you so angry about a Vampyre doing basic Vampyre things?” Alucard frowned as he tried to puzzle out the true crux of the issue... Then recalled just how foolishly jealous for a moment he'd felt last night watching Trevor offer himself up to Joachim's semi-conscious body to stave off his starvation and help him to regain his dwindling strength. But Alucard had been in the wrong to feel like he was watching Trevor cheat on him by offering his blood, right? Oh, wait a minute now... Is Trevor... Jealous of the prospect of Joachim feeding on that other woman? But why? “Look... You are aware that when I was down in the depths of that cave where you rescued me, I drained the lives from a dozen of those witches, at least, right?”
“That was an emergency! You were dying, Adrian.” The Hunter's anger shifted again into something anguished at the thought, and Alucard felt terrible for bringing it up now after looking at the result on Trevor's face. “You needed to survive by any means.”
“...That's right. But so is this.” Alucard hedged gently forward. “Survival. You and I are leaving. He's going to be all alone for a while with no one to watch his back. He should have taken the opportunity he had to shore up his strength.”
“He can. In an even safer and zero-risk manner than with the car buyer. This isn't a dire emergency, and there are options and choices available. I am the correct choice in this situation, not a random stranger.”
“Bunny, if I am following your logic, you are suggesting that I should drain the life force and energy of you as a first pick, over a random stranger. That I should compromise your strength and health, the essence of an individual I care for and cherish deeply first, before even considering doing so of a nameless nobody I care nothing about?”
“Without a looming emergency... Yes!”
“That makes absolutely no sense however, Little One.” Joachim argued. “You must have an incorrect assumption and understanding about what the Vampyre's kiss entails. There are absolutely no romantic connotations to the act that have not been placed there by outside influence and revisionist tales. 'Kiss' is a misleading word for it as well that is perhaps not helping the matter.” Reaching out to take Trevor's hand, aura's tightening around each other, Joachim stressed very sternly. “I do not enjoy feeding on my friends. There is nothing intimate or sweet about the act of devouring another living being, no matter how gently or cautiously the one doing the consuming is practising.”
“You must just think that way because you've never had someone who wanted to enjoy it with you.”
That comment certainly took the next words out of Joachim's mouth. Alucard also shifted self-consciously under Trevor's weight. Well there is no denying it now, he definitely mad because Joachim picked a random lady to eat over him. I should really... Feel upset about this, right? Experience told him he should, so why was it he found himself almost... Wanting to know where this would lead?
“When Adrian feeds on me, it is an intimate and sensual act of bonding. I just surrender to his touch and care completely and he takes what he needs and then returns my trust and body back to me unscathed. Every time he does, it just reaffirms to me that I've made the right choice in him. You should try it. Might change your outlook for the better.” Trevor challenged the Vampyre unabashedly, defining the previously undefinable experience he and Alucard shared together out loud for the first time in such a simple way, framing it almost as a boast. As if he was proud to be Alucard's first choice... The revelation of which certainly did something for Alucard's self-esteem, confidence, and disposition. For a second there, he almost thought even little Adrian tried to make a comeback in his pants. “You'll see with a fresh perspective that I am much better than a random nameless nobody.”
Silver eyes passed between the pair of them several times before a single word reply followed. “Okay.”
Trevor sat up in Alucard's lap and leaned forward. “Okay?”
“Yes, okay. Kitten has voiced his concern about my current state. You've made your argument about which is the best method to remedy my diminished condition. So if you are both in agreement... Okay. Let's fix my problem.”
“O-okay.” The Hunter agreed, his blooming bravado more a shrinking violet timidness now that he was being tasked with following through on the intimate offer. The unique blue-grey eyes found his and held them, a small smile warming Trevor's flustered features somewhat. “Ground rules. I am not doing it here, I want to be on the bed for three reasons. The first is that I want to be comfortable. The second, I want you to take enough that we will not be worried about you while we're apart, which might mean you need to take enough I get a little sleepy and need a small nap afterwards. And the third reason is the bed being enough for all three of us, and I want Adrian to do it at the same time.”
“Why?” Both demon's questioned in unison, startling themselves silent.
“Research.” The Hunter replied tightly, an blatant half-truth, but hell if Alucard was going to call him out on it.
“I... guess it's not that weird a request.” Joachim half shrugged. “We've had our fair share of threesomes and more-somes. This isn't so different. Some might reason it's even less significant.”
“We usually make it a point not to touch each other while we shared sex partners in the past.” Alucard reminded the Vampyre with a tired sigh. “Not that this is a sex thing.”
“Were you planning on touching me again while we did this non sex thing?” The Vampyre quirked a brow and Alucard returned him a flat look.
“Drunken petting doesn't count, and neither does post-coital cuddling. You know male lions form coalitions to help scare off other lions and court the females. It was the same idea, every time.”
“I can't believe you're giving me a zoology lesson right now... That being said, female lions are the hunters in their pack, so I suppose it's an apt allusion.” Not waiting for Alucard to come up with a witty retort, the Vampyre stood and gave a broad wave towards the office door as if to say 'after you', and followed without a word after Trevor took the hint and began to pull Alucard along by hand towards the bedroom.
“You're not going to sleep in a suit, are you?” Trevor asked once the white linen goal was in sight.
“Who says I am sleeping? You're offering your blood services to a Vampyre. I am just here to aid and abet and grab a freely offerd snack while I supervise.”
“Oh...” The Hunter hummed. “I thought maybe you would want to hold me after like you usually do. That's my favourite part...”
How am I supposed to refuse when my precious Prințesă puts it like that? Taking his queue from Trevor, Alucard also pulled on this morning's discarded lounge wear while Joachim fetched the Hunter a bottle of fruit juice for use after the bloodletting and then took a seat on the edge of the bed, looking a touch uncertain about what was to unfold. Alucard could relate. It was just a mutually agreed upon exchange of one type of body fluid. All party members of this verbal agreement were consenting and trustworthy. This wasn't the first time he'd 'shared' with Joachim or vice versa, although Trevor wasn't just a random hookup or established no strings attached repeat sex partner. But this also isn't a sex thing. Stop comparing it to that. This then was... What exactly? A family meal? I am so confused on many levels right now...
Trevor's motion to join them was what got Alucard's feet moving, the mattress dipping under his weight and he crawled into place behind the Hunter, his hands already reaching out to run soothing lines up and down the brunette's sides. The Vampyre was fingering the faint puncture marks on either side of Trevor's neck thoughtfully and he pursed his lips and shook his head a few times at whatever was on his mind.
“You will need to wear your scarf the whole plane trip. Do not show the Church these marks no matter what. I will ask Marcella, one of Kitten's aides, to get you a choker to hide them. Do not worry, they are commonly worn by the partners of Desire demons for just such a purpose. The colours, designs and the charms to accessorize them with are quite fashionable, ranging from understated elegance to attention-grabbing fun.”
Trevor's own fingers found their way to the possessive marks above his collar and he nodded while mulling over the advise. “Right... Thank this Marcella for me, please.” The Hunter replied softly, leaning back into Alucard's touch with a content sigh. The hand that had been tracing the bite marks on his own flesh now reaching further back to work through the hair at the back of Alucard's neck and pull him down almost into place to make another such possessive claim on the Hunter's skin. “Be gentle... I will defend myself if you make me believe I need to.”
Alucard smiled at the warning, having been on the receiving end of a nearly identical one years and years in the past when Trevor first offered him such a gift. Trevor Belmont was truly a blessing, he mused, leaning in that last bit to run his tongue up the length of that pale column of flesh and sealed it with a bruising hot kiss. His signature kiss for Trevor and Trevor alone, repeated in several slow passes in various ways, all while his hands soothed and comforted the tremors of anticipation in the Hunter's waiting body. Hands that occasionally bumped into the Vampyre's, but the pair of demons came to a wordless division of territory through their touch alone, carrying on about their needs with little care for the other in no time. Each focused on the sweetened earth and sky scent drowning their senses and the sugar and salt on their tongue. The warm creature between them in no time melting into a pool of languid limbs and hitched panting, barely audible whimpers.
The sweet earth and sky in the bedroom ripened, arousal overwhelming the other notes in the surrounding air, while the Hunter relied on body language to communicate he needed to be held tighter, more securely. By the time the blood was flowing, Alucard really could not say who was touching who, nor did he care to make such a distinction. Earth, sky, water, all scents blended together deliciously, both sweetly demure and wildly fresh at once, and for Alucard... It was as close to heaven as he believed such a place existed.
Out of the breathless whimpers was a low moan was finally pulled, and then another. Such shy little noises begged to be encouraged, and the other pair of hands on that warm mewling form trapped between was in agreement. Clawed digits crept up under an oversized stolen shirt, trailing over soft relaxed muscle lines and stopping to cup a generous pectoral, thumb sliding to toy with the small nub already standing at attention. Alucard didn't need to open his eyes or tear the shirt off that smaller body to know the pale pink nipple being teased was flushing towards a darker rouge. The same colour those petal soft lips would flush if he sucked on them as well. He would have, but it was so rare for the pretty French flower to make erotic noises, it would be a high crime to smother such sounds and deny his ears their pleasure. His spare hand took a dive into silky undergarments and found a hardened weeping length straining against the fabric, as well as another helpful palm to assist working the Hunter into a state of bliss. Moments later a third smaller one joined in, but only to guide his away from the front and towards a new target. Slick as his fingers were, it was easy to comply, curling inside a tight heat and being rewarded with a sharp cry of pleasure for the effort. A few minutes later the lovely creature at their shared mercy shuddered and gasped, the taste of liquid gold trickling down Alucard's throat morphing into pure ambrosia. He shuddered as well, feeling as if he'd also been brought to edge even lacking the capability at the moment.
It was in that blissful dream-like state that he hovered for a long time, tangled up together with soft flesh and trading caresses. It was so easy to forget what had brought him to be in this current state, let alone what he would have to leave it for eventually. After some time he realized silver eyes were watching him from across a shared pillow. The face they were set in was subdued but the eyes themselves held some wariness within. He gave that apprehensive creature what he hoped was a disarming smile. What was there to be worried about when everything felt as perfect as it did right in this moment? But then there were little steel jewels peering up at him as well, looking just as nervous, their beauty enhanced by the softly blushing colour of skin they were set in. He smiled at that pretty picture as well. On the tip of his tongue was the title, Prințesă.
“I... Think we all got a little... carried away.” The smaller body fitted between him and his mirror image whispered delicately. “This isn't... I wasn't expecting this.” That soft voice continued to confess. “It wasn't my intent but... I didn't...” The flustered beauty rolled over completely so that he was facing the Dhampyre head on to confess. “I didn't hate it either.”
“What was there to hate?” He found himself replying in a voice he hardly recognized as his own. "Pretty Prințesă."
The warm beauty twisted his head to look at Alucard's twin for a moment, prompting the other demon to half shrug a shoulder and wonder out loud. “Perhaps he is still riding out the euphoria. He will have a more... Kitten-esque response is due time, no doubt.”
“The euphoria is gone for me.” The pretty brunette announced quite suddenly. “This is an uncomfortable way to stay so... Umm... Sorry, not sorry.” And with that, he fidgeted to work off the wet silk he'd been wearing beneath the oversized shirt and tossed the garment somewhere into the room. The scent of his spent fluid and the associated realization that his little Prințesă was now naked beneath that shirt was all that the Dhampyre needed to break out of his happy little head-space.
A mutually agreed upon feeding session. That was what this was supposed to have been. Fixing Joachim's weakened state and a light snack for Alucard, like a reward for being a good demon. That was it. It was not supposed to have been a sex thing. When had it become a sex thing? Whose fault was it? Part of him immediately wanted to blame Joachim because that's how he usually operated, but... There was no one to blame. And if there was, it had to be equal blame. This was Trevor's idea though... No why would he even think that? Absolutely, he was not going to blame Trevor for this.
“So we got carried away.” He repeated Trevor's words in a surprisingly neutral tone, almost as if testing he could believe that was just what happened and nothing more. I... Guess I can?
“You are not upset?” The Vampyre blurted out, utterly perplexed by his out of character behaviour.
“Every one agreed to this and nobody stomped on the brakes when car went off-road. It even felt good. I think I had a dry orgasm myself, so how could I be mad? Feeding just kind of sort of turned into group... Masturbation?” Inhaling a little deeper to make sure he was on the mark, he met Joachim's skeptical gaze and elaborated. “Trust me. No one is more taken aback by my mature response to this situation than me. You got off too, so we're all guilty... Or innocent. Depends how you look at it, I guess.”
“That's never happened to me before while feeding...” The Vampyre lamented, as if the fact he had was some sort of shameful defect he was sharing.
“I told you I was better than a nameless stranger.” The Hunter bragged openly.
“You've certainly given me some... Food for thought.” The concession now given, the Vampyre made as if to climb out of the bed only to be stopped by Trevor's quick grasp. Trading a look with his younger Moroi, Joachim gave Trevor a soft smile. “I was going to give you some privacy to do that post-coital cuddling mentioned earlier. You said that was you favourite part, Belle Lapin.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound, Joachim. You don't get to put you hands on me to get what you want and then just leave.” The Hunter explained in a quite matter of factually manner. “I need to be comforted after my ordeal, you should know.”
“And here I thought Kitten was the needy one.” The Vampyre whistled, laying back down. “Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. Provided our cat doesn't have any protests.”
With a wicked grin, Trevor sidled up closer to Alucard and worked his arms comfortably between the pillows and opposing limbs, tucking himself against the Dhampyre's chest, before asking. “This is okay?” To which Alucard could only assured him it was. Satisfied, the Hunter reached back and pulled Joachim in flush behind, getting the Vampyre to also curl body and arms around his smaller frame. “This is okay?” He asked for permission again, which Alucard found he could grant with questionable ease. Emboldened, the mischievous brunette next laced his fingers with the hand the Vampyre laid to rest on the curve of his waist, and with his firm grip dragged that hand across to lay on the same place... Except now upon Alucard's waist. It was an electric sensation, the weight and shape of those clasped hands on his body. “This is okay?” The Hunter asked for permission one final time. The voice doing the asking was no longer playful, but deathly serious this time, however.
Reflex had his own hand falling over the laced pair, but for a measured pause he wasn't sure whether it was to throw them off or... or to let them stay. In the end, his hand ended up sliding along Trevor's forearm, crossing over along Joachim's, and slid around a well-toned back until he could effortlessly hold them both, pulling the pair in tighter as he shifted into a more comfortable position. “Yeah... I am okay. You?”
“Very much so.” Trevor readily agreed, exhaling a breath that Alucard had not known he'd been holding. Relaxing the tension he'd also not realized the Hunter had stiffing his body, the man yawned and nestled in for a much needed nap. Not before murmuring one final assurance. “I am very happy right now.”
It would have been extremely easy to follow suite right then. The Dhampyre, after all, was sated, warm, wrapped in Trevor's scent, and had a long busy day ahead of him. But something made him crack his eyes back open ain order to study the contemplative expression on Joachim's face in silence for a long time. The Vampyre's focus was so inward-turned that for once he seemed not to be cognizant of Alucard's attention. After some time, he could safely say with relief, it was not worry but wonderment pulling at Joachim's features. Even the tip of the ear Alucard could see poking out between silver strands of hair was tinged red.
Loathe as he was to ruin the private moment, it was prudent to ask all parties the pertinent question. So as softly as he was capable, Alucard whispered across the sleeping form of Trevor Belmont. “What about you? Are you... okay with all of this?”
Silver eyes widening, the red staining the pointed ear started to seep out across cheekbones. Joachim stared openly at him for a long stretch of time before, in an odd display or bashfulness, he ducked mostly behind Trevor's mess of auburn hair in an attempt to hide from Alucard's outright gaze. Answering only once he was safely obscured. “I am... very happy as well.” It was a vulnerable sounding admission. As if it would up and shatter at the slightest denouncement.
There would be no backlash against the truth this night, however. Alucard simply gave the other demon a nod and closed his eyes again. While there had undeniably been some major sort of paradigm shift in their dynamics over the past few days, now was neither the time nor place to explore that. Whether it was for the better or worse, Alucard could not say at this particular time. Nor did he need to. There would be more than enough time to examine and re-examine this evolving relationship once they were all safely back in the Lost Commune. All he needed to do was focus on getting Trevor there. A long flight and a Church demon review. That was hopefully all that stood between Alucard, his pretty Prințesă, and the rest of their lives.
With that in mind, he hugged his bundle of warm bodies closer and followed the Hunter into dreamland.
Notes:
I actually sawed this chapter into 1/3 and saved the other 2/3 for the next one simply because it's been a while since the last update, and I wanted to celebrate Spring with some light smut. Smut and a grown man getting roasted by his quasi-parents. You're all wonderful and your comments feed me. Thank you!
Chapter 50: The Gambit Pt. 1
Notes:
We have a Demon Messenger app handle for Julius now (a stupid one thanks to reader bnomiko running and researching my dumb fixations) but we are still open for suggestions for one that fits Joachim.
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Garden Home, Suginami Ward, Tokyo
It just had to be the truth that Trevor Belmont was Ambien for Vampyres. Alucard found himself in a groggy state, blinking away sleep from his blurred low-lit world after an alarm, Erik Satie's Gymnopédia, startled him from a dream he was already rapidly losing the plot of. Something to do about putting in a new tower in his home – which in real life did not have anywhere to attach a spire-tipped tower but who was he to argue dream logic – yet he could not get the architect to agree with the designer to agree with the permit-officer, when there was no reason to need a permit for an addition to a house he owned, in a town he built, in a place he was the guy who performed all the functions of these squabbling specialists!
Wait a damn minute... I was dreaming?
But that frustrating nonsense was not important, he was more disturbed by how such a peaceful sounding melody written with the ancient Greek games in mind could wake him with such a racing heart. It was embarrassing to say the least, but not nearly as much as when his sleepy vision cleared enough to find himself nose to nose with an ancient Vampyre was. Trying to roll over was an exercise in futility, as it turned out the elder demon had quite the death-grip in his formally believed impossible sleep. Valiant struggle and the subsequent surrender on his part to escape that tender-taloned embrace were both found to be highly amusing for the brunette whose lap they cohabited.
Trevor Belmont watched him throw in the towel with a small smile, combing through his hair in a slow and quite loving manner, careful that the strands passing through his tapered fingers did not catch or pull on any of the tighter-wound coils of curls, lest he stretch them out. With a spare hand he leaned over to slide two fingers into the track pants Joachim had borrowed off Alucard, catching and freeing the noisy phone from its pocket-prison. “It's a nice tune.” The Hunter noted, passing the device over to Alucard so that he could silence it. “A little on the melancholic side, but pleasant none the less.”
“It's got three parts. I'll play you the whole set back to back once we're home.” Alucard promised, cutting the music off with a swipe so that he could just take in his first good look at Trevor that morning. The man sported tousled hair and a slightly paler complexion than he had the previous night, but overall his muscles looked and felt relaxed to lay upon, as was his posture. The warmth in those beautiful grey-blues paired quite nicely with his widening smile, closed around the remainder of a bottle of fruit juice he was tipping back. The bottle Joachim had brought for the Hunter who would be donating blood and needing a perk to keep his blood sugar from crashing.
The demon is nothing if not thoughtful.
“How are you planning to get anything done, let alone play music for me, all wrapped up like that?” Trevor teased, trading the now empty bottle of juice for more freedom to rake his fingers through the Dhampyre's soft curls. “Out of all the hair I have run my hands through, yours is the nicest to touch, you know?”
Ignoring the jab at his current predicament, Alucard closed his eyes and let a pleased little moan escape out his lips as he basked in the loving attention. “Out of all the people I have loved playing with my hair, how you do it feels the nicest, you know?” Confession relayed on a sigh, he continued to revel in the adoration for a few more quiet minutes.
Trevor seemed more than happy to be of service and Alucard sure would have preferred they'd not had any pressing matters to attend to so he could just live in this moment for another hour or two, but there was definitely a reason that Joachim had set an alarm, even though he was oddly the only one of them to have not been awoken by it. So the Dhampyre did his best to gingerly shake the body that had him in a vice, but ultimately ended up having to resort to reaching for what he's just recently discovered was the Vampyre's weak spot. Knowledge that was sure coming in handy to decode the mystery that Joachim Armster sometimes could become. Sensitive ear now clasped between his thumb and fingers, he plied the flesh gently, giving the slightest tug at the same time until the Vampyre woke abruptly, startled awake by his own low moan, releasing Alucard as he scrambled off the bed in some kind of controlled panic, only to look back with suspicious surprise. While he'd already brushed his hair over the toyed with scarlet point, Alucard knew his secret now, just as he was confident under that silver curtain hid two crimson blushing ears.
“I... I think I was dreaming?” The Vampyre took a moment to suck in that plump lower lip and chew on one of the double-lobes as he reconciled with the admission. Vampyres did not dream, after all. But then, Vampyres weren't supposed to sleep either and he clearly could do that well enough, after all.
Alucard was more preoccupied watching the elder demon threaten to mangle that plush lip. Why would he do that to such plump kissably-soft looking... What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I thinking about the damn deformed lip again?
“I gave the pâtissier very specific instructions because we didn't want a cake for the wedding in the... tower? I think it was tower... But the man and his team of buffoons kept getting all the wrong pastries and flavours mixed up. We had to fly in a baker from England to get it right but because it was a matter of pride the pâtissier and the baker ended up in a food-related fight. There was ruined desserts just everywhere inside our new tower!”
“Tower..?” Alucard shook his head, he was almost sure he might have also dreamed about a new tower on their house that definitely could not support a giant tower, but it was long gone by this point. “Whatever, man. Your alarm went off and I had a hell of a time both waking you up and getting you off me.” He announced with a slight twitch of his lips as he threw the phone into the hands he knew would catch it. “I'm going to start charging you cuddling fees if you keep it up.”
“You'd owe me a few hundred million in back-pay if you wanna go down that route. You know my arm is so used to cradling you, it locks into place at the perfect height to do it?”
“I will gladly pay you a few hundred million to never bring that up ever again.”
“From which bank account, Kitten? It's all our money.” The Vampyre's own lips curled victoriously, as he knew he had the younger demon fair and square.
“You're sassy this morning, aren't you?”
The Vampyre ignored his bait effortlessly, disappearing into the washroom to pull his own clothing from out of the dryer. “You should both get up, shower, and get dressed promptly. It was my understanding that your human pets would be here early.” Instructions delivered, he closed the door over only long enough to discard his borrowed lounge wear and pull on his regular attire before the demon was out of the dwelling, if the click of the front door was anything to go by.
“You guys are actually pretty funny to watch in action.” Trevor noted in an amused voice.
“Funny Ha-Ha, or funny-looking?”
The question made Trevor laugh. “A bit of both, I suppose. I'd be happy to watch you tease one another all day, but I do also wonder what else I'd be happy to do if you actually played nicely for a change.”
“I've said if before and I'll say it again. You say the strangest god damned things, Trevor Belmont.”
“Do I really, or is it that you just are not listening to me?”
“Oh, I am listening, trust me. Do you think you could listen to me for a bit and go take your shower first? It's going to be a very long day, and being clean will go a long way to keeping yourself comfortable.” He told the Hunter while stretching out across the bed. “I think I still need a few minutes here to mentally prepare myself for the gambit today.”
“...Okay...”
It was a strange sounding acquiesce, but Trevor Belmont was soon shutting himself inside the shower stall to comply before Alucard had even managed to realize the Hunter had seemed off in that last thirty seconds. The Dhampyre sat listening to the spray for a while, imagining the rivulets of water traversing a lithe but athletic form just beyond instead of actually getting up to ogle it live. Sometimes it was just more fun to use one's imagination, after all. There were better uses of his time, however, so while he was making mental notes, he got up and pulled his suit out from where it hung in the empty closet, vest, tie, belt and shoes all a match and paired nicely with his expensive tailored suit. This he laid out on the bed to dress in after his shower, while he also fetched and laid out Trevor's folded selection for the trip later today. That done, he ducked into his former office to grab Trevor's new phone still discarded on the floor from their sudden decision to change locales last night, as well as his laptop and all the accoutrements. These he slid into his briefcase and dropped that off with the luggage set by the door. All of Trevor's and his extras were tucked safely inside, where no security guard or any one who did not want to start an international incident would ever peek inside.
So he was just in the right place at the right time to catch Yoko Belnades bursting into his home with her jazz-hands going, followed up succinctly with a panicked flail as her sopping wet boots sent her skidding into his open outstretched arms. “And yet, in spite of your brand of of bullshit, I somehow missed you immeasurably.” Alucard admonished, returning her wide goofy grin just as she was throwing her whole body into his in some weird kind of clinging embrace.
“You are one of the toughest sons of bitch I have ever known, Al. You legit have zero idea just how glad I am to see that you're not dead dead! I'm going to be the greatest bodyguard for you ever, I promise.”
“I concur. We'll definitely keep you completely safe on Eliza's private jet with zero active threats. Scouts honour.” Julius added, making space enough for Hammer to slip inside and immediately scoop up both Yoko and Alucard into a bear hug that left both their feet dangling.
“Genya, my man.” Hammer blathered a little over-emotionally. “You were so fucked up even your Vampyre buddy wasn't sure you were going to make it. I guess I shouldn't have worried after all, right? You don't get to live for eight hundred years by being easy to kill, right?”
“Well, I have been likened to a cockroach before...” Alucard admitted, patting Hammer's beefy forearm until he got the hint and set the pair of them back down on their feet. “Genya tragically did pass away, however. A sudden and unforeseen massive coronary. Quite a shock to his loved ones, and they are asking for privacy during the service as they grieve a wonderful man's loss. So it's just Alucard now.”
“You've been Genya for the whole thirteen years I've known you not in passing, my man. It's probably going to take me some time to adjust, but I'll do my best to get it right.” Taking a quick peek around the barren dark living room Hammer wondered out loud. “Where's the kid at?”
“The 'kid' is my great to the Nth degree grandfather.” Julius corrected while snaking in between the collection of tightly gathered bodies to steal his own firm hug. There was a certain level of tenderness to the touch that Alucard was not expecting, so he clung back rather clumsily as the elder hunter whispered for his ears only. “You really scared me this time, Alucard. This whole unfolding mess has been extremely unsettling.”
What could he do or say in response to that confession but pat the man's back and shuffle the whole group into his mostly empty kitchen where at the very least the table and stools remained. As the ragtag ensemble settled in to wait for Trevor and himself to clean up and 'primp themselves pretty' – Hammer's term – Joachim slipped in silently through the front door carrying a cardboard handled box containing six freshly brewed coffees that he wordlessly divvied up. The hunter duo and Hammer all traded suspicious looks amongst themselves but after a taste-test proved the Vampyre had gotten them each a beverage that suited their particular and unique tastes, their stuttered cascade of thanks instead had the Vampyre narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
“It's nothing nefarious, I just pay attention.” Joachim explained defensively.
Well, Joachim is nothing if not thoughtful. His mind reminded him for the second time that morning.
A sweet smelling cup was pushed into Alucard's hands last, the Vampyre's narrowed gaze fixed firmly upon him and him alone now. “If you were electing not to shower, not that I would understand why you would forgo being clean and comfortable on a twelve hour flight, you could have at least shaved that dead animal off your face, Kitten.”
“I am going to.” He insisted, defensive in his own right now. “I just decided to let... Our little Rabbit go first, that's all.” That had been a close call. He'd almost said 'my little Prințesă' instead. Good thing his tongue had held, as he wasn't too certain Trevor Belmont would have appreciated being referred to as such beyond the privacy of their soon to be forever-home.
“If it's a vote, I vote keep the beard. I like it.” Yoko piped up. “You should keep it cause you look, like, super authoritative with it. If you told me to bark, I might woof. Just sayin'.”
“Gee, I wonder why you like it...” Julius cut in, making an exaggerated motion towards the well-groomed and robust beard framing Hammer's face. With his other hand he was deftly picking through his backpack to find a stainless steel grooming kit he whipped out with some minor pzazz. “If you're dead-set on shaving it anyway, indulge me for a bit. I feel like I could change your mind with a lady-killer polish to what you got going on.” Hovering with the kit out just before Alucard, Julius Belmont of all people stooped to begging. “Just for fun?”
The old hunter was inordinately pleased to be permitted free access once he'd relented, shushing Yoko and Hammer's backseat barber antics as an 'artiste' did not require any plebeian suggestions. As he trimmed and sculpted the white-gold whiskers to his liking, his artistic vision must have been on point as soon thereafter the couple and even Joachim were humming approvingly as the finished product was revealed.
“Yeah, I had a feeling a more close-cut would suit you. Some people look like they're trying too hard with a more detailed shave, but you have the right face for it.” Julius appraised his work with a satisfied nod and clapped Alucard on the arm. “You look damn good, if I say so myself.”
“Yep. Definitely hot. I could be into it.” Hammer agreed.
“My loins are aquiver.” Yoko added her two cents. “This is look you are killin', Al.”
“Oh my, Kitten.” Joachim had a hand half-raised to cover his mouth as Julius moved fully out of the way. “The resemblance is just uncanny.”
“Resemblance to who?” Yoko was quick to catch and pounce upon. “Who is hot like that and why haven't I been introduced to them yet?”
Well now Alucard just had to look, right? He reached out towards the Vampyre who instinctively knew he wanted the demon's phone and handed it over. It was easy then to unlock it with Joachim's pin and turn on the reverse-camera to take in Julius handiwork. What he saw staring back at him caused him to surprise the whole kitchen with his deep and hearty laughter. It was just too perfect! Absolutely uncanny, as the Vampyre had stated. Hilariously so! Then again, what could be expected if given a similar defining feature? The man in the camera he currently appeared to be and he had shared near identical features once upon a time, after all. “That is wild. I have to take a picture for posterity.” He declared, snapping a few selfies to have Joachim send him later. It was through the reverse-camera that he noticed Trevor Belmont hovering in the door frame, watching the spectacle taking place in the kitchen with wary eyes.
Freshly washed and glossy hair was parted to the side, a new cascade of long layered bangs the man must have just cut framing and flattering his striking features, was trimmed back from where it had rested against his shoulderblades to now just dusting his shoulders. It was how the Hunter had worn his hair the first time they'd met. His chosen outfit was somehow able to ride the razor thin line between being trendy while still maintaining a more mature polish, pulled all together by that gold coat he'd gushed about like it was a dirty secret. A coat that was without a doubt worth every penny. It skimmed his frame attractively pulling in an observers focus towards the Hunter's most alluring feature, the extreme cinch of the waist on his dynamic shape. Made all the more impressive considering how much of Joachim's fussing and pampering had filled out the brunette's chest, arms and thighs. Clean, healthy, and now meticulously groomed and dressed, Trevor Belmont was a breath-taking sight of dynamic angles. Enough to make a man fall in love all over again.
Alucard had almost fallen off of his stool as he swivelled around to behold his painfully pretty Prințesă with his own eyes over a screen when Yoko made an impressive leap from the other side of the kitchen in order to tackle the newest addition to the kitchen-crew. The younger hunter caught her easily much to her chagrin, but Trevor was happy to let her squeeze the life out of him, even causing a ligament in his back to pop in her zeal as she lifted him right off the ground for a few seconds. With solid ground beneath his toes again, Trevor opened up his arms wider to encourage Julius to slide into the group embrace. He even left one arm hanging until Hammer got the memo and joined in to top it off.
“Kudos to your babysitter, Gramps, you look amazing!” Yoko complimented just as Hammer was giving the smaller man's biceps a good appreciative squish.
“Would have never guessed you had this much muscle, Napoleon. They keep telling me you can throw Gen-Alucard around, but now I believe it.”
To the delight of all in attendance, Trevor's mouth opened and the room watched in real time as he struggled to get the words out, but one by momentous one, the softest voice strung together enough of them to get out a simple reply. “Being a Vampyre Hunter is not a job for soft men.” Such a small and hushed explanation, but such a huge milestone in the recovery of the man who had given it, of which every one around to hear it acknowledged.
No one may have called direct attention to the first words Trevor had uttered to them in months, but Yoko did pull him in for a kiss on the cheek, while Julius clapped him hard on the back in that way men who were bad at being 'sappy' did, perhaps hoping the sting they left behind served as the big complex emotions they could not convey. When the human trio eased up, Joachim was waiting with Trevor's coffee in hand and after passing it over, after a moment's hesitation, he reached a hand out to delicately run the length of Trevor's new fringe with a tiny private smile, curling the ends around his fingers until he at last let the strands slip free.
“This suits you.” Was all the Vampyre said, in a voice almost as soft as the Hunter's had been.
When Trevor was finally free enough to seek him out, the shock at the sight of him and his new look forced Joachim to reflexively catch the Hunter's dropped cup of coffee, Trevor's eyes as wide as his mouth before he took a few staggering steps towards Alucard, snapping it shut in order to glower at full effect. While it may have been softly spoken, the command was clear, and held some fire. “Shave.”
Alucard rubbed the work of art on his face, knowing damn well why Trevor was glaring at him and demanding he lose it pronto, but a suicidal stroke of mischief had him deciding to play the part of a brat yet again. “But why should I? It's so rugged and manly. I look so handsome with it.” His words obviously riling up the pretty little Hunter, he dug in deep. His Prințesă's flash of teeth and burning eyes gave him an entirely new string of fantasies to have about her later. “Don't you think that this suits me? You don't think I look good?”
Trevor Belmont pushed aside the other bodies so that he had the space to slam his hands down on the table at either side of Alucard, trapping the Dhampyre between him and the table before leaning down close enough they could almost kiss. There were no sweet kisses to be had, however. Only an equal parts scintillating as it was menacing glare. “I do think you look good. That's entirely the problem, Adrian. So now you have two choices. The first option is that you get up and shave it off immediately and we both agree to never speak of this again.”
“The other?”
“The second option is that you continue to parade around wearing the same face as Vlad Dracula Țepeș, but for the rest of our lives together you and I will have to live with the knowledge that I might be attracted to your father. You look so much like him right now I might get confused. Then every time I am in bed with you you'll have to wonder, who am I really thinking about, Adrian? Am I thinking about you, or am I actually thinking about your father? How will you ever know for certain? I may never know for certain if you don't shave that off right and I get my emotions all confused. They say love and hate are two sides of the same coin, right?” The Hunter's expression flipped on a dime, his burning gaze now fraught with uncertainty. “Oh no, I think it's happening already. Your father had a really deep voice as well... How long before I can't even tell you apart any longer?”
Having heard far far more than enough to suck out, devour, and then vomit out any remaining fun his little game may have contained, Alucard sprang to his feet and was already dashing out the door when he called back over his shoulder. “At the end of the day, nothing beats a nice clean shave!” He couldn't care less if the whole lot of them were back in that kitchen laughing at him, he couldn't waste a single second more getting his father's signature beard off his face and leaving plain old Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș in it's place. Julius has done a fine job styling it, and yes he had looked extremely distinguished and powerful stealing the look, but that was only because Dracula had been those things. Alucard possessed his own charms to work, anyway.
Face now as smooth as butter, he stepped into that particular shower stall for the very last time. It was always a strange sensation, to be doing something or passing through a place 'for the last time', no matter how many countless times he had in the long life thus far lived. With the heat and a heavy heart, he took the time to wallow a little in the nostalgia of past 'lasts', drawing out the self-care routine incorporated into his personal hygiene, and even taking his cue from Trevor, deciding in that moment to hack four inches off his length and trim and tidy his luxurious mane. He added a few layers of his own and more strategic piece-y bits to frame his face flatteringly, providing more definition. Finishing off the whole production by working in a serum to keep frizz and fly-aways under control for the imminent long journey in recycled air. Those chopped inches must have been dead weight as his curls bounced beautifully now that they were unshackled.
He dressed unhurriedly, taking care to slip into both a sock and shirt garters before donning the rest of the fine tailored suit. Adjusting the straps around his thighs one final time, the Dhampyre took a moment to appreciate the immaculate man looking back at him in the mirror. In spite of the trauma, here was the face people were expecting to see. This wasn't Trevor's 'Adrian' nor Joachim's 'Kitten'. It was not Yoko, Julius' or Hammer's 'Al' either by any stretch. The moment he walked out of this sleepy garden home habit would have him removed from both his worldly concerns and personal feelings. The Demon Ambassador mask would slip into place. This face, the one that was ageless, aloof, and untouchable staring back at him right now... It would stare at Trevor the same way as it did every one on the outside. There would be no choice about it... However much he wished Trevor would only ever see the Adrian he knew and loved. With just a few more needless tweaks to his perfect disguise, he left the bedroom – for the last time – but stopped just short of entering the kitchen once more as he did not want to interrupt the conversation being had just inside.
“...so as I learned that threats of that nature were overwhelmingly effective at instilling fear, with particular efficiency when used against male humans due to silly stigmas, I found myself perhaps over relying on that type of aggressive show. It was easy and it worked.”
“So was this your way of letting me know that all those aggressive insinuations and implications and outright sexual harassment of me was just your lazy way of terrorizing the hell out of me for years?”
“Put bluntly, yes.”
“And that you never would have actually followed through on the insinuations and threats?”
“In short, yes. I do not have any interest in mankind in that particular capacity.”
“Right... Right. Okay. You see, I hear what you're saying but you know what? I think what you actually should be saying is...” Yoko trailed off pointedly, leaving the door wide open for Joachim to suck it up or get the hell out quite evidently.
“What I should be saying is that I apologize for the past three years. I wanted to terrify you both. It is safer for my kind to be feared, and you are both worthy adversaries. So I apologize, Yoko Belnades, for implying I would enact that kind of violence upon your person.”
“Well I'll be damned.” Yoko folded her arms and stood taller over the seated Vampyre nursing the dregs of his coffee. “You're actually a nice-ish maybe even warm and squishy kind of guy under all that crazy and violent posturing.”
“You are mistaken. I assure you that I am a deadly and ferocious demon capable of crushing everyone under this roof with one arm tied behind my back. I am simply stating that I lack the desire to. At current.”
“Adorable.”
“You are precious to Kitten, and I owe you all a debt for helping in returning him to my care. That is all.”
“You're just the sweetest thing.” Yoko refuted Joachim's claims of purported ferocity outright, with a confident flip of her hair. “You're so cute right now I am going to acknowledge your apology, but you still owe me like a metric tonne of ice cream before you'll get my forgiveness. You can start earning my forgiveness once we're all back home in Romania. Deal?”
“I could eat you, you know that right?” Joachim asked almost as if he needed Yoko to give him permission. The girl simply straightened up even more, drawing to her full height and quirked an eyebrow expectantly. “...Deal. I accept the terms of my penance.”
“Am I getting free ice cream out of this deal too?” Julius asked cautiously only to be shot down by Joachim real fast.
“You get to enjoy the honour of being the only Church Belmont I don't have the urge to kill on sight. Feel honoured!”
“That's a lame consolation prize. What about that Belmont sitting right beside you?”
“What about that Belmont?” Joachim retorted. “The Little One is with us to start. If you want another reason, he said he's changing his last name to be free of you lot.”
“A Belmont is Belmont no matter what they call themselves. It's in our veins.” Julius rose to the bait, but it seemed more like it was Trevor he wanted to pick a fight with now.
The younger-looking Belmont having had more than enough of the quips and barbs that must have been fired between his grandson and new best friend forever while Alucard had stepped out, pushed the butting heads both back down into their stools and gave them equally withering looks. “Actually, perhaps I will change both my given and family name so that I may simply take to the road solo, instead. Wander from town to town as a friendly stranger.”
To this, Alucard couldn't help but lean more fully against the frame of his former kitchen entrance and inquire. “What would your first name be, if not Trevor? I'm still trying to wrap my head around you not wanting to be called a Belmont.”
“Oh, something that wouldn't stand out, of course. That would be the whole point in changing it, after all. Something basic and boring and entirely un-heroic.” The former Vampyre Hunter pondered out loud. “Something like... Ralph.” Well that unexpected choice had every one in the room snorting back laughter, which only delighted the brunette. “See, it is working already. There's not a man, woman, or child who would ever suspect that lowly Ralph went toe to toe with Dracula once upon a time.”
“I love you but I am not sure I could keep dating a man named Ralph, Trevor Belmont. 'Come meet my boyfriend... Ralph'. It really doesn't have the same ring to it.”
Blue-grey eyes thinned a little, the Hunter's hands clapping together and held almost prayer like before him. “I have been meaning to ask about this. That term that keeps cropping up and that people keep using; Boyfriend. Explain it to me. Hammer and Julius are your friends and they are men, however as far as I have been paying attention to, not once has either been referred to as your boyfriend. Which leads me to believe there is some facet I am not understanding that earns one such a moniker. So what it is?”
“Same as courting. If you're courting another's fancy and they deign to reward you with it, the modern term for that is 'dating'. The individual you are 'dating' or 'seeing' is commonly referred to as your boyfriend or girlfriend depending on their gender identity. Many people also opt for the simple one-stop-shop term 'Partner' in lieu of boy or girlfriend, or even in lieu of husband and wife. You will hear boyfriend and girlfriend thrown around a lot more once we arrive back home as everyone and their mother seems to think I have been dating this guy for centuries.” The Dhampyre explained, throwing a dismissive gesture in Joachim's direction. “Just ignore it and the people who perpetuate it. I've been doing so for at least two hundred years now.”
“I have wondered from time to time why I am always cast in the girlfriend role.” Joachim murmured thoughtfully, almost as if to himself.
“Because out of the two of us, I am clearly the Top.” He couldn't let that opportunity slide even if it was taking a small win over Joachim at the expense of arming Yoko for future ruthless teasing warfare. From out the corner of his eyes he could see her light up, taking notes.
“The only things you are on top of, Kitten, are the things I had to give you a boost to stand on first. I will allow your delusions of grandeur, however.”
“Sometimes being delulu is the solulu.” His remark drawing another round of raucous laughter, Alucard unfolded his arms and moving to stand behind the seated Vampyre, clamped his hands over Joachim's mouth before the elder demon could fire off another zinger. Honestly, he should have quit while he still had some dignity left to salvage, but it felt equal parts nostalgic and comforting to horse around with his oldest friend like they had so easily such long years ago, the mirth in those distant times could have been mistaken for illusions. Joachim placed a hand on his as if to remove them, but never actually got around to it in the end. “Ignore that too, Trevor.” He urged the Hunter, finally removing his muffling palms. Joachim was still hanging onto one of his hands so he placed them comfortably on the broad pair of shoulders before him, and tried not to think too hard about how they stiffened under his touch reflexively. Nor tried to recall how far back in time the great demon had began assuming his touch was a precursor to violence. “Farcical nonsense aside, did that answer your question?”
The Hunter was wearing the same wicked grin as Yoko for a moment, but once attention was called to him his expression sweetened into one of innocence. It didn't bode well for the Dhampyre. “That's interesting for sure, how much some things have stayed the same, they are just identified by differing terms... Wouldn't I have to agree, based on your break-down of this modern dating, to be considered your boyfriend?” Trevor wondered out loud, his soft voice gaining as much strength as it did mischief putting the question to Alucard. “It sounds to me as if everyone and their mother has decided on my behalf that I am already. So how would one ask in these modern times to date?”
Red Alert, Chief. This is a trap! Ambassador mask falling clean off and kicked under the table, the younger Moroi openly gaped at the exquisitely attractive brunette who seemed to be waiting expectantly before him to propose they 'go steady' in a modern fashion. As if they hadn't just spoken about getting married a day prior while Trevor agreed to be his Promised Prințesă, taking his family name even in consideration. It's an obvious trap... Maybe some kind of payback for suggesting I keep my father's looks? An obvious trap, most likely, but Alucard was never going to be able to deny Trevor Belmont anything, so he inhaled and forged ahead recklessly.
“Well, most grown-ups just ask one another like mature equals proposing a trial run. Dating can lead to marriage, which is an emotional and financial contract. It makes sense to approach it in such a mature and responsible fashion.” It was a simple enough, if boring summary, so he thought back to the glory days of the late sixties and early seventies with some rather rose-tinted goggles and gave a more fun example. “Children have numerous creative ways to ask eachother to 'go out' – which is another term for dating. I used to find these little notes from boys in the schoolbag of that girl you met recently that were quite cute. May I show you an example?” He asked, reaching into the small crossbody bag Trevor had laid out on the countertop to pull his journal free, and jotted down on a spare page his best recollection of Leila's bygone suitors love confessions once Trevor gave him permission to do so.
Composition finished, he slid the innocently immature scrawled page across the table for Trevor and the rest of the gang to read. It brought out several wistful chuckles and sighs out of the trio, as they most likely had written and received such similar notes in their elementary school days. Across the otherwise blank page of Trevor's journal was three sentences. One a statement and two were questions, with four little blank boxes for which the receiver of the letter could place a check mark or a firm X.
I like you. Do you Like me?
YES NO
Would you go out with me?
YES NO
Trevor Belmont read through the short script a few times before it was obvious he'd understood the gist. But to be certain he asked for clarification. “So I am to just place my mark in the correct box of my choosing, then?” He nodded to himself once assured he'd understood the exercise, bending over the page to scribble away, however it became quite obvious he was putting down a bit more onto the form than the scant time of what filling out two blank boxes should have taken. When Alucard was slid back the open journal to unveil the response to his proposition he and the sultry little hunter make it Official, what he read on the page was enough to make his eye twitch.
I like you. Do you Like me? Had a third box created and checked off with a mighty X, Trevor's flowing penmanship elaborating on his selections.
I like a lot of people well enough. Recently one had a beard, so it's hard to say. I'm easily confused.
The final and most important question, - Would you go out with me? - Also had a third box drawn in. This one's X crossed in so hard the page wrinkled slightly beside it.
Thrill me first.
Of course it was a trap. Payback for the beard. The man sure could hold a grudge, unfairly or not. What was a bit of teasing between friends and lovers, after all? “You're such a dick sometimes. We both know you love me so just say 'Yes' already and make it official so that when everyone and their mother calls you my boyfriend, it's the honest truth.” Trevor's response to that was simply to lean back over and make the X under Thrill me first even bolder and darker. “A massive dick right now, that's what you are.”
“Maybe.” Trevor acquiesced. “But do you know what I am currently not officially classified as?”
In a tight borderline exasperated voice, Alucard bit out the correct answer. “My boyfriend.” Simply aggravating! “On the thinnest, weakest technicality only. We sleep together and you live in my house.”
“Ah, that is all it takes to qualify, you're saying?” Trevor cocked his head. “Yoko, fact check for me. Do people who share eachother's beds and cohabit at the same time these days always have to be dating? That was not even a guarantee in my time, so I am curious.”
“That would be a negative, Gramps.” The traitor was all too eager to supply. “The modern term for that arrangement is called 'Friends with Benefits' in polite society, or if you wanna get real crass and cut the crap, 'Fuckbuddies'.”
Returning his cool gaze solely on Alucard Trevor threw up a hand in surrender. “Well there you have it... Fuckbuddy.”
“I hate you so much right now.” Alucard hissed through clenched teeth. “This is disproportionate retribution for suggesting I keep my Father's looks as a joke. Since when can't you take a joke, Trevor Belmont?”
“So did you want to amend the first part of your note in here, then?” Trevor offered pointing to the I like you line on the page of contention. “While you're at it could you write down that word you just used so I can look it up later?”
Immature or not, he did snatch the pen back with some open disdain, carefully spelling out 'disproportionate retribution' in the top corner for the Hunter to familiarize himself with the English term in his own time before scratching in a third more sour-noted question.
Would you let me smother you with your pillow tonight?
YES NO
To which Trevor promptly slid back a third option.
I will let you try.
“You are maddening, you know that?” Snapping the journal shut with finality, he shoved it back into the Hunter's hands as he stepped away from the table.
Just as he was prepared to spin on a heel and busy himself loading up Hammer's jeep with their luggage to escape the jeers and teasing coming out of the peanut gallery, a pale hand snaked out and caught his to give two short consecutive little squeezes. Their signature secret code for I love You offered even while the one giving him the reassurance was ring-leading this circus. The Dhampyre must have twisted his hand out again unconsciously, feeling those nasty misgivings and dark uncertainty start to creep in. Could he be blamed for harbouring such doubts, however small, when the one person he was legitimately prepared to spend the rest of his immortal life with was playing so harshly at his emotional expense? Did Trevor not realize just how desperately he needed to feel secure what was in his hands would stay there? Maybe the Hunter truly wasn't aware, and it's not like right now was the time nor the place to sit the man down and confess about just how insecure he was that Trevor may one day no longer want to return his affections. That someone would take him away, either by luring him or by force.
The little squeezes should speak louder than his inner demons. They were together, they were intimate and honest with one another, and they shared love. Why should it bother him so that Trevor was, in jest or not, refusing a label society would naturally be inclined to place upon them. That's all the term boyfriend was, after all. A label that ultimately meant nothing. It could be applied with significance or hollowness just as easily. It's usage or lack thereof entirely dependent on the users. But I want to tell other people that he is my boyfriend. I want to be able to think to myself 'that's my boyfriend' as well when I look at him. A glum argument bubbled up from the recesses of his troubled mind. I've had enough quote unquote fuckbuddies to last even a demon's lifetime. Shouldn't whether or not I want this label for us count for anything?
Regardless of his feelings around the matter, he gave Trevor two fast squeezes back but still did need to leave the room for a few minutes, the luggage a convenient excuse to do so, if only for the cool air outside to help blow away some of his visible disappointment. Playing Tetris with the cargo in the Jeep could only kill so much time, so it was inevitable that he would have to face the music and return to his companions in due time, although he ensured the aloof Ambassador Țepeș mask was firmly in place as he did.
His solemn return changed the mood in the room right fast, even still playful Trevor Belmont sitting up straighter to take note of his authoritative energy, grin wiped clean. “It's nearly time to go, but before we head out, I do have one request, Trevor.” The expressionless Hunter nodded his head and waited, so Alucard continued. “I think it would be better for everyone here if you tried to look a little bit more like Julius.”
The two Belmonts exchanged sidelong glances at one another before shrugging in agreement. Julius even going so far as to dig out another hair tie and toss it towards the younger-looking Hunter, before draining the dregs of his coffee and slamming down the cup. “I tend to wear my hair up day to day so him putting his up would work better than me putting mine down.”
“That's fine. I don't much care for hair, but I can manage tying it up at least.” As Trevor made the motions to sweep his glossy shimmering mane up in a bumpy and unrefined ponytail – the kind only a man could ever think was acceptable – Joachim put a stop to the travesty before Yoko had even fully gotten over her horror.
“Allow me, Bunny.” The Vampyre insisted, explaining further when Trevor gave him a strange look. “I have a daughter with long hair. You can trust me.”
“You're a father!?” The sorceress choked out incredulously. “You. The creepy Vampyre man. You're some little girl out there's Padre?”
“I fail to see how that is deserving of such disbelief.” The ancient Moroi replied in an offended tone, deftly twisting and tucking the pretty brunette's even prettier tresses to sweep up into a mid-length ponytail. The twists, almost braid like, on one side of his head leading back into where is was all gathered was certainly a more effeminate style, but Alucard had always took notice of the Hunter's fluid beauty. If any man could pull off the look, it would be the one killing it right here and now. “Have you not born witness to how much care I am capable of? Never mind that Kitten is back on his feet after nearly biting the big one, look at your grandfather. I turned a starved bag of bones back into warrior.”
“He's got ya there, YoBear.” Hammer gave credit where it was due.
“I helped with that too.” The certified warrior insisted. “I had to eat all that food you kept making me.”
“Oh yes, you were quite put out by the whole affair, I am sure.” Joachim scoffed. “Do you want to take a look and see if you like it?”
“You said to trust you and I don't like Paranoia demons. I'll pass, but thank you. I'm sure it's fine.”
“Can... Could I have a fancy hairdo too?” Yoko ventured, face still in disbelief but tone sounding overly hopeful.
To Alucard's surprise most of all, the Vampyre sighed and waved her into the stool he'd just vacated. “This does count towards my ice cream penance, however.”
Yoko's bag had a few more hair accessories to play with, so while the men made one final sweep over the gear and the garden home to ensure nothing important had been forgotten or would be left behind, the sorceress sat patiently for her half-up double French braided crown to be wrapped and pinned in place by a very patient Vampyre who wordlessly adjusted to her excited wiggles and refusal to sit still. The end-result was cute and fairy-like, with Hammer profusely pleased with how she looked, second only to how satisfied Yoko was with it.
“Well, it's about that time now, so thanks for your help and your hospitality, Vampyre. I guess I'll see you around more often considering while Trevor may not be boy or girlfriend material, we at least know you're married to our Demon Ambassador here.”
In a smooth and nonplussed manner, Joachim gave a half shrug. “Funny enough, while he forced a marriage on me, he's never even implied he'd want to be my boyfriend either. Relationships are certainly more complicated in this day and age.”
“Stop telling people our sham cult wedding was real. It did not count for anything, but your constant alluding to it is probably why everyone and their dog believes we are a couple.” It was a command given coolly as any diplomatic official would.
“But I am not referring to that? I forgot about that little caper a week after we killed that guy. Why is it that you keep bringing it up all these years later all of a sudden?” Joachim's bewilderment and innocence was so convincing, he almost did believe the demon was being honest about his confusion.
Whatever. I do not have time to sort this out and it's not like I am not going to see him again in two days.
The three human visitors to the dwelling were the first to file out, bidding the Vampyre they formally viewed as an antagonist a farewell that was borderline friendly in nature. That left the Vampyre, the Hunter and Dhampyre once again alone together for one final moment under that roof and hidden behind those four walls. Another last for Alucard to add to his long list. Without his extended family's prying eyes, Trevor's own smarmy mask was abandoned, making it painfully apparent he was having a hard time saying goodbye, however temporary it would be.
Miffed or not at Trevor's nearly cruel retaliation for a mere joke, Alucard pushed the awkward hesitating Hunter into the Vampyre's embrace and stepped aside to give them their semi-private moment to hug it out. Solely because it was obvious Trevor had grown extremely attached to his purported babysitter and the anachronistic Hunter was indeed about to embark on a long journey on a strange mode of transport while in an unfriendly environment. With Joachim staying here to wrap things up, Trevor would be down one ally he could count on to be in his corner. If the Hunter could steal some strength and fortitude from the elder demon here and now for usage later on if and when the uncomfortable environment became outright hostile, who was Alucard to deny his Promised Prințesă the opportunity?
“Cover up your neck at all times while in the airports and on Iron Spikes for Jesus' private jet, Little One.” Joachim was reminding the Hunter as if he were a child, and not a Vampyre Hunter who knew what happened to people showing the Vampyre's Kiss around Church officials. Still, it seemed like the fussing was not taken poorly, but rather as an amusement by the brunette. “At the embassy the girls there have already procured you a lovely choker to cover up the bite marks. The materials do not interfere with CT or X-Ray scans so do not remove it at all while you are being examined, and do not let them remove it either. In fact, they are not to touch you without your explicit consent, but if they so happen to overstep their bounds, do not fret. Kitten will sort them out immediately.” These assurances as well were seeming to be received positively by the quiet Hunter. “Just two strange days to put up with and by the end of your third night back in Romania you will be climbing into your own bed in your new home. Leila is so excited to welcome you.”
Trevor Belmont looked a mite-less apprehensive after his pep-talk, the demon and Hunter's aura's coiling up tighter as they embraced for a long enough time Alucard considered the fact that he may have to break them up for time-constraints, and not just his own uncomfortable feelings about how seamlessly their energy flowed as one. In the end no interference was required, as Trevor stepped back all on his own giving the Vampyre a bittersweet twist of his lips. “Stay away from Lilû or any Lilû associated incorporeal tag-alongs. We'll be waiting for you.” With that, the Hunter slung his crossbody on in one fluid motion and with his winter coat tucked under an arm, vanished out the front door.
“Don't you keep the Iron Maiden's cronies waiting too long, Kitten.” Joachim's voice broke him from a sudden reverie, the demon shooing him to follow the Hunter out the door, all but pushing him physically when he didn't hop to it fast enough.
“Got it. Smell ya later.” He relented in a detached tone that did not match up with his overtly childish farewell.
“You wish you were as cool as Blue from Pokémon.”
“Pokémon? That's the fat yellow lightning-cat thing, right?” All he got for his trouble was this time Joachim actually pushed the coat he'd ripped from the hook into his arms and unceremoniously tossed him out the front door. “The Bum Rush from my own house, Joachim!?”
“I already cancelled the lease.”
With the door shut in his face there was nothing left to do but toss his coat into the backseat and nearly slide in to bite the bullet... Except he'd overlooked one final thing that needed doing which stopped everything in it's tracks. “Keys.” He said quite suddenly, digging his own out to remove the garden home's from his plain key-ring. Yoko and Julius were quick to turn their copies in, tossing them back without missing a beat.
It was, of all people, Trevor Belmont who hesitated, looking overtly put-out as he slid the dangling shiny key from off a carabiner on his bag and handed it over with almost a frown. The corners of his lips threatened to turn downwards at the next stiff breeze. “The last time I had a key to a house was when I lived in France.” It was a clear lament as he surrendered what was to the Hunter an obvious symbol of some greater import. Maybe of having somewhere safe to rest, or a familiar place to return. Trevor had claimed during one of many fireside chats back in the fifteenth century to have never owned many material possessions of his own. Perhaps the key was just a simple reminder that Trevor was losing a haven to return to?
Still mildly annoyed at the Hunter refusing to let him call the man his boyfriend in spite of clearly being exactly that or not, Alucard took another thirty seconds to slide another more antique looking key off his ring and handed that one over in place of the one he took back. “A trade.” He announced with a smile. “This key opens up a much nicer house I believe you'll love even more.”
“How can you sound so sure?” The Hunter asked, fiddling with his mystery key.
“Easy. The house that key opens up is the home I built with my own two hands for you, Trevor Belmont. That's why I am so certain.” With the garden home's spares in hand, he closed the back door on the slightly blushing and – for a rare instance – speechless Hunter, lost in contemplation. The Dhampyre smiled as he turned having heard Yoko and Julius whistle about how suave a response that had been. It took a little of the sting out of being temporarily denied official boyfriend status.
The front door was unlocked so he simply stepped inside with the intention of leaving the pile of spares on the kitchen counter. The Dhampyre was not expecting to find Joachim sitting so dejectedly and self-absorbed in abject misery at the table, twisting that oblong glowing shape gifted to him by Trevor. The one that had been carved out of the heart of the brood-mother he'd slain. As before, it rattled with a pretty sound as it was turned over in troubled fingers. Joachim did not seem to know Alucard had returned.
That wasn't normal.
“Umm...” Awkward attempt to engage in conversation actually startled the Vampyre, who jumped to his feet. “I forgot to return the spare keys.” He explained weakly, far more interested in the ruby-red tipped ears poking out of the silver locks of hair. “So do you... Miss him already, or something?”
Rather than deflect or deny or even outright just throwing him back out the front door, Alucard received a rather sensitive sounding truth instead. “Of course I do. I miss our daughter just terribly as well, and I am concerned to be apart from all three of you given the recent circumstances. It is not an enjoyable position to be in, stuck here cleaning up while you could be in danger.”
“Look...” What was it he was supposed to say? There wasn't too much he could that would not come across as vapid stock reassurances or platitudes. All lukewarm nothings. Not to mention Joachim was a Desire demon first and foremost. Words did little to comfort such a creature unless accompanied by that demon-touch. So Alucard found himself standing before the kitchen table all of his own accord, plucking the glowing blue object from Joachim's hands and placing it safely amongst the remnants of coffee cups, all so that he could in some bid to be a better co-parent, partner and demi-demon, pull the elder demon up towards him in such a way, they lined up perfectly for that so called Demon Kiss.
For a hot minute Joachim seemed to have simply retreated back inside his troubled thoughts. Yet Alucard came to realize there was something more to the Vampyre's uncharacteristic hesitancy; An uncertainty born of anxiety he could actually scent on the air. Here was an ancient demon, true powers grown so long with age who could say what his limits were... That seemed so momentarily fragile. Perhaps compelled by instinct or some other demon sense he was not aware of, Alucard responded in a way he thought he would have never considered. Responded in a way that surprised them both, in fact, as he leaned in to rest his forehead on the other's crown, baring his neck as he did so.
A perversion of the Demon Hierarchy. It was for the strongest demon to initiate such a Kiss, baring their weakness to the younger or weaker demon so that the whelp could prove they were worthy of such things like love and protection from the greater one. Yet here Alucard was baring his throat in such an unruly and brazen act of upset for the rules, that surely Joachim could not abide his overreach and inflated ego, right? Surely this foolish show would snap the ancient demon out of his funk? But then... That paradigm shift he'd felt last night proved not to just be in his mind.
Joachim closed his eyes and shifted into the proper place of the subservient demon, nuzzling back after his fangs cleared the opportunity they'd had to tear Alucard to shreds. His jugular veins intact, Alucard also closed his eyes, sliding down slightly to meet in a proper Demon Kiss. The Vampyre submitting to the younger Dhampyre, casting him in the role of Master between them in what seemed like a fever dream. Alucard was too surprised to react further, so when Joachim stepped in closer they'd already been doing it for long enough the Dhampyre couldn't do anything but shift his body to accommodate the tighter embrace. With him, Alucard Fahrenheit Țepeș, as the Demon Master! The top of the food chain! The King of the Hierarchy!
In amongst the incredible sense of disbelief he still found the words to comfort. It was a task expected of a proper Demon Master, after all. Assure the nerves of the ones beneath their care. “If you miss him just call. I will pick up. Any time of day, I will answer, okay?” Offering softly, he felt Joachim's aura flush against his body but not daring even in their Kiss to breach his own aura.
“What if it is you that I want to speak to?” Joachim asked in a low tone devoid of any emotion.
Here Alucard got a touch stupid. There was a long and arduous gambit of days scheduled ahead and the Dhampyre was going to need every wit he'd not lost being tortured at the bottom of the lake to navigate through the upcoming trials. Knowing all that, he did the unthinkable, lowering his guard just enough that Joachim's energy could thread through the metaphysical welcome mat he'd just laid out and slip beneath the surface. Just as he too was taking a tentative dive below the Vampyre's shell. The terrifying void was there immediately, all consuming as something in the distant depths of darkness wailed and begged of him to lose his way inside, causing such a panic response that he'd almost pulled back and run out the door towards the waiting Jeep. Holding the protective web for a few days around their garden home must have taught him some perseverance, as he managed – just barely – to not only hold firm, but to respond to the question he'd just been asked in a calm and certain tone.
“If you feel like you need to call me because I am the person you're missing... I will pick up, no matter the time. Okay?”
Across the endless chasm three impressions came in hard and fast, nearly sweeping him away with their intensities. Then it was if someone had shut the floodgates on the deluge, tapering it off until he was left in the shallows, safe but drenched in the sensations of another's affection and gratitude and the incredible relief tied to them, but ultimately still his own being. He could still distinguish himself and his emotions freely from the Vampyre's. He was still separate from Joachim, who had shown him just how happy and relieved he was to be told he wouldn't be a pest or a bother if he'd just wanted to hear Alucard's voice on the other end of the line... Exactly how shitty and distant have I been for so long that something this small had such an impact?
There wasn't really time to wonder too hard about that self-reflection as Joachim was already pulling away, pushing him physically back towards the door for what his expression said better be the final time. “Unless the bald one drives like a lunatic, you really are cutting it close for time now. It's time to leave, Adrian.”
“Okay, okay.” Hands up in surrender, he turned and stepped outside, looking over his shoulder to insist. “I will miss you too, Joachim. A lot.”
“Smell ya later, Partner.” Was all he got... That and the door being shut in his face for the second time in under ten minutes.
Slipping into the backseat of the Jeep opposite Trevor, more than a little perturbed by that last exchange, he wished he'd have had the luxury of examining the strange shift and event that had just occurred in his former kitchen. There was weight and significance to it that he just could not quite put his finger on. Hammer turned onto the street at a good clip, no stranger to driving to and from the airport after the handful of years in this country. As the scenery of white passed by the window he felt the Vampyre's energy glide along the web of protection, a mirror image of the one he was still holding onto, so once it was fully in place he let his own dissipate at last. The echo of Joachim's aura hummed in his veins for some time after.
It seemed as if he wasn't the only one experiencing such a sensation, as Trevor sitting between Julius and he seemed completely lost in thought as he stared at his hands. Hammer had just driven beyond the webbing when Trevor let out a small gasp that only Alucard's sensitive hearing picked up. While Yoko and Julius were absorbed in their phones and probably their own unique worries, Alucard instead watched Trevor's face as the distance between the Hunter and the Vampyre grew too great for their constant coiling of energies to be maintained. As the last tendril of Joachim slipped free from out his fingertips, Trevor Belmont balled his hands and steeled his expression. Like Alucard's aloof and untouchable Ambassador disguise, Trevor seemed to slip into a stoic, impenetrable mask all of his own. To look at him as the humans would, he would have given nothing away. But to a demon's nose, the scent now wafting off of the brunette as he sat all alone inside his body without the Vampyre caretaker's aura...
Alucard was a fucking idiot to have been so jealous of their constant connection, the scent and the understanding now his to behold. Joachim was comforting you, Trevor. He was keeping you calm and collected this whole time while I was annoyed that you kept reaching out for him. You poor sweet thing, it's because you just didn't want to feel like this, right? The tragic man in the stone mask at his side was a mess of emotions, the stench of fear and panic so thick he nearly opened the Jeep window in the the middle of a winter storm just to manage inhaling a single breath that was not rank with Trevor Belmont's ever growing dread.
“Come here, Trevor.” He whispered gently, coaxing the terrified thing in closer, feeling like both an oblivious idiot for not seeing what Joachim had been doing for Trevor this whole time, as well as a useless idiot for not being capable of providing that same calming effect. Even if he wanted to, and he wished he could with every fibre of his being, he just didn't know how.
“You said that we should not touch until we're back in your village. That it is dangerous for us to be seen as affectionate with one another.” Trevor whispered back, sounding perfectly in control and not at all like a man that was spiralling into the hopelessness his scent was betraying.
“Once we are at the airport.” He clarified. “There are inherent risks but the Church staff are on high alert, Airport security is on high alert, Yoko and Julius are acting as our appointed bodyguards, and we are together. I am going to keep you safe until we get back home. Believe me, Trevor... Please don't be so afraid.”
The Hunter did not bristle at his offer of protection, or at the thought of his grandchildren tasked with a similar duty. In a worrying but understandable pivot, he simply stayed quiet, not speaking another word while he pressed his body into Alucard's side. Tapered fingers toyed with a key to a home he'd yet to lay eyes on as if it were some sort of worry-stone all the way to their destination. When it came time to step out of the Jeep, Trevor Belmont was still a resolute mute, but the pungent aroma of fear that had been wafting off of him had mitigated by a noticeable degree.
As the entourage of Church dignitaries and field agents converged on their small party, Trevor took a calculated step to the side, putting distance between he and the Ambassador Țepeș that was the vortex of the frenzied activity. Grey-blue eyes taking everything in, waiting for his cue from either Yoko or Julius to know what he was expected to do.
It was only a step, but Trevor felt like so terribly far away.
Alucard missed touching him already.
*****
December 2037 ~ En Route above the Clouds
It was not the first time that Trevor wished he could just allow himself to be that demure silk and lace instead of forcing himself ill-fittingly into leather and steel, and as time had taught the pathetic wretch that he was, it was not going to be the last. Even berating himself for failing to mould acceptably into the old mask made for a younger, better man was in itself another glaring failure. He was supposed to be remaking himself into someone that was worthy of being loved by a person as wonderful as Adrian. That meant taking pride in himself... Which meant at times even being kind to himself... Which meant forgiving himself for being so petrified by the activity surrounding him that he could not pay attention or retain information. How stupid was he that he was stepping onto this metal bird called a jet and he would never have been able to say just how exactly he'd arrived to this place and this point in time? Such an idiot. So many people had said so many things that were probably important. Things he should have made note of in the event he'd needed that information to save his own hide, and yet all he's heard is the rush of blood his erratic heart is pushing through his veins. The sound of his heartbeat drowning out the chaos around them, amplifying his terror.
If he could have just allowed himself to be how he really was, would they have slowed down and taken pity on silk and lace? Would it have been acceptable if he was capable of showing just how soft he was, for his golden Adonis to put a hand on his shoulder, even if for a fleeting moment? Just a small touch would surely have helped to ground him. Instead his vision was getting hazy around the edges because he wasn't able to take in a full breath. Had not been able to do so since he stepped outside of Hammer's big square car. The Hunter was dizzy, stomach in knots. Everywhere he glanced was someone who was openly staring back at him. Some looked grim. Some were whispering to colleagues, their eyes lighting up due in part to some facet of his appearance. The ones that moved like Julius did were not hostile, but he could tell by their body language that they considered him dangerous. They were expecting him to do something dangerous. Not one of them or the more bookish types accompanying them had even attempted to touch him. A small solace... If they had, he probably would not have been able to keep from reacting... Dangerously.
The narrow metal bird seemed too dark once inside, but as his eyes adjusted he could see Yoko was motioning him to follow her passed two sets of doors, deep into the belly of this aerial machination. There was seating inside this third section that was much wider and more inviting than what he had passed in the other antechambers. A sort of seat built into a unit that had a table, a tiny screen like a tablet, a bottle of water and even fruit laid out. It looked like it may have even been capable of sliding out into a small bed of sorts. It was opposite an identical unit and both were adjacent to a window. They were all paired up like that, he then took notice. Yoko was telling him to take a seat, showing him where was safe to store his bag. He faced the rest of the room – the cabin, he had been told it was called – which was just fine as he now had a built in excuse to try studying and remembering faces. It was just how he was seated, after all.
By some mercy Adrian was the one who took the seat directly opposite of him. As this cabin was much fancier and spaced out than the previous two, Adrian was too far to carry a conversation that would not be overheard by at least their neighbours, one tiny older woman with huge blue eyes and a mess of larger darker curls, and what looked to be her clerk or servant of some kind. Yoko and Julius were not going to be travelling in the same chamber – cabin – as he and Adrian were, apparently. The other four people who did file in looked like how Adrian was dressed. They were more jovial than the people like Julius, and all of them did at some point make certain to greet and exchange small talk with his Dhampyre. All of them also made it a point to sneak repeated glances at him after giving only a nod in greeting. There was fear in their eyes when they looked at him... But then again, there was a spark of fear in their eyes when they looked at Adrian too, in spite of the pleasant exchanges and friendly jokes. They looked like menagerie keepers, familiar with handling deadly beasts, but never allowing themselves to be complacent.
This was... This was what it was like to be a demon out in the open. They thought Trevor a demon, after all. Adrian had the patience of a saint to be subjected to those kinds of smiles that never touched and warmed eyes. Then again, what was the alternative, he supposed. If Adrian acted out in any way it probably would only serve to prove their prejudices in their eyes. Still, how could he stand it? Being among these people who all seemed to just be waiting for him to prove he was a violent and deadly demon after all? Everyone was expecting the worst from Trevor too... He was just like Adrian, in their eyes. It was that random twisted thought that oddly brought him that grounded focus he needed. If he acted out on his terror and reacted poorly to anything while under this intense observation... It would hurt Adrian. It would damage his image, his authority, and his trustworthiness. Adrian was escorting him, a yet unidentified demon in person. Whatever he did and however he did it would reflect back on his Dhampyre. Trevor resolved to give them nothing at all. He wouldn't smile, frown, flinch, or get angry. Already he wasn't speaking. He would just sit and watch and listen.
Resolutions are not always so easy to follow through. After being instructed on how to fasten his body in safely which he managed to do himself by watching how slow and methodically Adrian was doing it – clearly for his benefit – the metal machine began to roll forward. It gained speed as it roared to life and from out the window Trevor could see they were starting to climb into the air. Honestly he tried not to gape but such a large heavy contraption made of metal was somehow actually lifting off? Twisted towards the rounded panes of glass he managed to catch Adrian's golden eyes watching his amazement, the faintest twitch of lips turned up. Trevor held that yellow gaze for longer than he should, as no touching probably was supposed to encompass also refraining from looking longingly into eachother's eyes. The city he'd thought looked so small in Joachim's arms that night he'd taken him above the skyscrapers shrank even further, and Trevor wondered if the Vampyre had ever seen the world from this high up for a brief moment... Until the metal bird flew even higher and now there was an unmistakable pressure in his ears and jaw. Then pain. Not a lot of pain... But pain.
Sitting back flush against his chair he couldn't help lifting his hands to his ears. There didn't seem to be anything he could do to alleviate the pressure while it now felt like his ear canals were trying to turn themselves inside out. Teeth grit, he let out a single pained noise, so soft he'd thought for sure only a being like Adrian would hear.
The woman with the huge round blue eyes and impressive curled up-do popped out of her seat and in an instant was kneeling by his side. She looked middle-aged, fine lines at her mouth and by her eyes visible up close, and very pretty. Her voice was a soothing sort of melody as she spoke to him in his mother tongue. Her Romanian accent faintly evident, but her pronunciation flawless. “This is your first time on a plane of any kind, I was informed prior to the trip. I left you a bottle of water to sip while we take-off in the event you were uncomfortable during the process.” The beautiful woman had unscrewed the cap and was handing him the bottle as she spoke. “The motion of swallowing will 'pop' your ears back. Some people chew gum, but I was not certain if you'd like that or what your flavour preferences are.” It seemed like she was going to wait until he drank the water she gave him so he did take a conservative sip. Swallowing did help a little, but not enough, and this doe-eyed woman was quick to notice. “Not enough, I see. This is a little trick I taught all five of my children when travelling. Pinch your nose right here... And then try to blow.” She even mimicked the action as she spoke for him to follow along.
She looked a little silly doing it, which meant by association so must have he, but it worked. The results could not be denied. Trevor gave her a thankful nod and hoped that would be the end of it, but the mother of five stayed by his side until they were up well above the clouds, explaining about how the cabin needed to control the air pressure inside when taking off and landing, going into a little more detail than he was ever going to be able to recall all at once, but then he suddenly had a feeling that she was trying to keep his mind busy as well as his ears 'popped'.
“And now you are free to unbuckle your safety belt. If you need to stretch your legs feel free to stand up and move around. If you want to lay down or recline just fiddle with these controls right over here. If you need to use the facilities they are just around the wall behind you. If you would like anything to eat or drink, please let me know how best to accommodate you, but there will be scheduled meals at normal meal hours as well. And if you have any other questions, my name is Mellisandre Angelopoulou, which I have been told is quite a mouthful, so please, call me Missy. I am the personal assistant to Madame Director Eliza Levin and she has requested I extend my services towards you and Ambassador Țepeș during the extent of this flight. I will also be on site to greet you when you arrive for your appointment at our headquarters. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Trevor Christopher Belmont.”
The usage of his full name had all eyes in the cabin on him in an instant, so he – without trying to show it but likely failing – meekly nodded his head once again and prayed this helpful pretty woman would go back to her seat and please leave him be to regain his composure. She did not, but her aggressive attentiveness did switch on a knife's edge towards Adrian, her whole demeanour remaining professional but Trevor could tell she was smitten just by how her breathing changed when she looked at the tall immaculate Demon Prince before her. The way she half leaned with a hand braced on the arm of Adrian's seat also just so happened to perfectly push her breasts up. He wasn't going to think any less of her for doing it when he'd only noticed because he was stealthily looking. A man was still a man, even a poor excuse for one like Trevor Christopher Belmont. Hell, if he had tits to press together he'd probably do it for Adrian's attention too.
That being said... Adrian was actually the one out of the two of them with the impressive cleavage. Soft and supple, and requiring two hands to cup just one, the Dhampyre's chest scratched that itch to rest his head on a woman's bosom. Trevor wondered idly if they were heavy to carry around. He might offer to hold them for his Adonis to give the man's back a break. That almost made him laugh, wondering about that. Trevor was supposed to be a blank slate that gave nothing away. Breaking out into random laughter he couldn't possibly explain the origin of was not going to be a good look for either he or the man whose tits he wanted to fondle.
The more he observed on the sly the more he was convinced maybe this Missy liked Adrian's chest just as much as he did. Her sweeping gaze that moved too often for anyone to accuse her of anything sure did do a lot of sweeping over the Dhampyre's broad shoulders and arms as they exchanged polite inquiries into eachother's health and families.
Adrian kept asking after the woman's children and at first it seemed like it was just to be polite. Then Trevor wondered if maybe Adrian was just genuinely interested in the lives of this woman's offspring, considering he seemed so content to get every little detail since he and this Missy had obviously last chatted... At length. After more than an hour, the pair of them actually moving to sit in Missy's area once her servant had vacated, Trevor had a weird little twist in his stomach that Adrian actually... Might just want to talk to Missy for the sake of talking to this Missy. Which if true... And it seemed like it was... Well. He certainly felt something about that. An ugly something.
Three hours. Over three hours of listening to this back and forth. Topics ranging from concerts and music albums, to the recent news and politics. The poor servant or clerk of this Missy seemed to be hovering around between the various cabins looking unsure where to be since the Demon Ambassador was in her seat. For only one brief moment the slip of a girl eyed the chair Adrian had traded to sit with Missy but once the girl's eyes met his she blanched the little colour her slender face had and decided being back in the cabin where Yoko and Julius were was a better option. Trevor was in mutual agreement. He too wished he could sit with his grandchildren. There was no way he would muster the courage to speak amongst all these strangers, but just looking at their expressions or listening to them tease one another would certainly be better than listening to Adrian... What the hell, he was absolutely just flirting with her right now.
Trevor inhaled deeply.
The good news was he was no longer feeling terrified. That had been pushed to the far corners of his mind, waiting for when this metal bird descended from the skies and the next unknown was to arrive. The bad news was he was going to haul off and punch Adrian if he didn't quit fawning over that very beautiful woman right in front of him. Would that cause a diplomatic incident? Technically he was on the Demon side of things. So would it be more Civil War?
“You've not mentioned dear Miss Leila, Ambassador. What has the lovely lady been up to of late?”
“Exactly what any parent could hope for, Missy. She's been staying out of trouble.” Adrian replied playfully which drew a laugh out of the woman.
Trevor winced briefly, but wiped his features clean.
Adrian was a better actor than he thought. He'd sounded like he knew exactly what the white-gold haired girl Trevor had spoken to over the video call was up to, which Trevor knew was patently false. They didn't speak. Leila didn't even want to speak about him. The woman had refused to even speak about the lab he worked in inside the house she lived at. Leila looked at the Dhampyre with the kind of ire reserved for someone who'd stolen your firstborn. It was highly unlikely that Leila would want to put 'parent' and 'Adrian' in the same sentence, as she had made it clear as day which tall Moroi demon she considered her father.
By hour five a poshly dressed woman with a cute and fancy kerchief tied around her neck swept by with a hot meal. She asked his preferences between a salmon dish, a chicken one, or a vegetarian entree, and seemed almost insulted that he would not answer her question non-verbally or otherwise. This holdup caused all the eyes to fall back on him as Trevor had been the first to be asked about his meal selection and his refusal to respond was holding up the production for what looked like some very hungry officials in the other seats. Hungry officials being denied their fill because of one obstinate unidentified demon.
This got Missy up out of her chair and back at his side, gently prodding him with questions about food allergies or if he had any religious or dietary restrictions she had not been appraised of. Between Missy and neck-kerchief, Trevor was assailed with questions. Did he want something off menu? Could they get him something packaged? Did he prefer sweets? Fruits? How about cereal? Hot or cold? Did he want ice cream instead?
The eyes of the famished onlookers were boring into his soul by now. The Hunter fought down the surging urge to stand up and scream 'Nothing', the panic and fear clawing back into the forefront, but that seemed entirely like the kind of thing that he was trying to avoid at all costs. The eyes quite suddenly found a new target to follow; Adrian who had gotten to his feet and half-ducked behind the wall behind Missy's chair. He returned with a covered cardboard cup of something sweet smelling that Trevor recognized as cocoa. Stepping around the woman with the narrow cart full of food and Missy, Adrian knelt to the other side of his chair, this also causing a wave of whispers through his rapt audience, and placed the cup into a slot on the other armrest of his chair that seemed made for it.
“You have not yet eaten today, Trevor.” The Dhampyre's deep voice was detached, as if he were making a mere observation he had no emotional investment in. “The twelve hour flight will actually be closer to fifteen due to some weather the pilot must navigate around, so I must insist you have a little something.” The Dhampyre reached blindly towards the cart and plucked a salmon dish off the top, sliding this onto the small table next to him. “I do not eat typically, but I have heard the salmon is the best selection. Let me know if my source is reputable.” When the immensely relieved neck-kerchief woman started on about beverages, Adrian was quick to request peppermint chamomile tea and a 'digestive' which turned out to be a bland looking cookie. To 'settle him.'
Trevor nearly threw the salmon in his face in a flash of aimless anger.
It was such a stupid impulse. Adrian was only trying to defuse the mess he'd created by being unable to say a simple 'no thank you' to a helpful woman who was only doing her job. He couldn't look overly concerned about Trevor because they were being watched and Adrian thought it best to not make it so obvious the two of them had more than platonic feelings for one another. In the best way he could, he'd smoothed over the bump in the road – sky – and made sure Trevor had something to calm his stomach or nerves if he could not manage to eat the meal. The cocoa was because Adrian knew even if he couldn't put a bite of fish in his mouth in such a stressful environment, he would at least drink the sugary chocolate drink. That the Ambassador himself had had to get up and fetch the cocoa was probably not a good thing. Trevor was at fault too... Next time the woman asked what he'd want he would take the first thing she offered.
The cart wheeled on it's merry way, leaving Missy with the salmon and a white wine and Adrian with the wine alone. The clerk returned to her seat to eat, so Adrian reclaimed his original spot, looking like he was not worried about a damn thing in the whole wide world, but those golden eyes kept creeping back to Trevor's untouched dish. Adrian was worried about him. More accurately, he was making Adrian worry. I'm sorry, Adrian, I just can't eat with all these people staring at us... For Adrian he tried. It looked like something he would have made himself if given access to the same ingredients, but in the hostile environment the sight of it churned his guts in such awful ways. All he accomplished was poking around at it. Maybe someone would believe he'd taken a bite or two. The tea did help somewhat. The packaged cookie he thought he'd keep where it was just so he looked like he wasn't a complete sideshow attraction. Everyone else seemed to have kept a spare bit of food to snack on later.
By hour seven he really had to take a piss. The water, tea and cocoa were absolutely to blame. The cart lady had made note he'd drink cocoa so now when she passed by if he didn't still have one on the go she gave it to him unprompted. His snack collection was growing, the cookie joined by a brownie and then different kinds of fruit than the original ones he's left untouched. Only on his table were apple slices laid out. They looked like little rabbits, how they were cut with some of the peel left on. Those he nibbled at as his foot tapped at increasing speed. He finally caved and got out of his seat, his legs feeling like gelatin to the point he nearly stumbled at their weakness. That must have been why Adrian occasionally had stood up and paced the cabin. Sitting this long was a horrible idea. In fact everyone had stood and paced the cabin with the exception of him. On baby deer legs he made it to the washroom, a tight enclosed area that must be a nightmare for someone of Adrian or Joachim's size. He'd forever remember his first on flight piss for it was the longest lasting one of his entire goddamn life. That was it, he was cut off. No more cocoa. No more peppermint chamomile tea.
As laughably small as it was though, the tiny enclosed space of this bathroom offered the first few minutes of peaceful calm he'd experienced since stepping onto this metal contraption. No. Since stepping into the airport back in Japan. Until he flushed the toilet and it caused a great concern about potentially sucking one in. What if you were doing the other thing and accidentally flushed while sitting? It sounded like you'd get your organs sucked out. When he opened the door he was surprised for a second to see Adrian waiting. Which was also stupid of him as Trevor had seen the other people stand in line for the facility, so why couldn't the Dhampyre as well?
As Adrian put his hand out to hold the door open for him to step free, for a brief moment they were obscured behind the thin metal barrier. It was a brief moment Adrian wasted no time using to maximum effect, dipping his head to place a firm kiss on his forehead and whispering that Trevor was over the halfway mark. Adrian disappeared inside and Trevor stepped slowly back to his seat, feeling the brand of that stolen kiss as if it were on fire. He'd learned three things in that little exchange. One, was that bathrooms might be a good option to steal a few minutes of serenity on this stifling tube and perhaps even at the Church headquarters. Two, Adrian's willingness to flout his own advise about how they should conduct themselves in public was more than welcome. And lastly, that it turned out someone of Adrian or Joachim's size could indeed fit in that small space. Who would have thought?
Between hours nine and ten another hot meal was coming around. Since he didn't seem to 'like' the salmon, this time the neck-kerchief suggested in English he try turf over the surf, placing a steak dish down with greens and creamy horseradish. Adrian was a little more focused on his plate of food this time around as he'd only witnessed Trevor consuming liquids thus far. To satisfy everyone staring at him, be that Adrian, neck-kerchief, or Missy, he cut into the steak, took a nice square of asparagus and mushrooms to spear, and lightly swept the whole thing into the creamy horseradish before popping it all into his mouth to chew methodically. Adrian looked almost like he wanted to put a hand on his chest and sigh in relief. Neck-kerchief was so enthused by her victory over him, that as she came back to offer more drinks and check on everyone's satisfaction, she insisted he'd like this ginger beer too she pulled out and placed on his table. Trevor hated that she was right. It wasn't bad at all, and the burn and flavour did wonders for his tense stomach. He finished nearly half that meal.
By hour eleven Adrian had done so much typing away on his laptop Trevor was starting to feel drowsy watching him. It's not like there was anything else for him to be distracted by other than the whispers and observation by the other four people in fancy suits. They had been studying him intently all flight when not stuffing their faces and Trevor was growing so weary from the constant state of high-alert. Aggressively helpful Missy appeared to show him how to recline his chair, a foot rest coming up as he did, and she even fetched him a pillow and blanket. Whatever happened after that, Trevor would never know.
Missy was there to wake him in the least jarring way another human being had ever woken him so that he could refasten his safety belt and prepare for the descent. The pain in his ears was easy to manage now that he knew the silly-looking trick, so he could better enjoy the night lit cityscape coming into view as the metal bird made it's slow landing. Getting off the metal tube was easier to pay attention to as the sleep inertia and fatigue from his high-strung emotions had drained him to the point he could no longer muster the energy for dread. They were shuffled off what Missy called a tarmac enclosed in a group of men in black suits. Stepping inside, it was obvious there were even more men in black suits and and flashing lights at this Airport.
A cacophony of voices tried to call for Adrian's attention, most of them followed by cameras and holding round-ended short sticks. The chaos and the blinding snaps of light from photos, the swooning from a few gathered groups of young women, a few upstarts hurling derogatory terms before being whisked away my the men in black... It was so much. A small contingent of people cut a path directly towards him nearly causing Trevor to back away and run but Adrian's low voice by his side promising him these on-comers were safe and to go with them held him in place. The contingent surrounded him completely and ushered him along at an alarming rate. They seemed to know a pathway out of the airport that was almost void of the chaos Adrian was still mired in and got him into the backseat of a long black car in no time flat. Climbing inside with him was one woman who forced him to do a double-take of.
She was green skinned and blonde haired, coiffed and pinned in place. Her black suit incorporated a skirt instead of pants. Folded up as tightly as her hair was pinned were pink-feathered wings. Such a soft alluring colour of plumage, surely they were the most beautiful wings that Trevor had ever laid eyes on. She was not smiling, but perhaps making a poor man's attempt at one, with very human like teeth under an almost human nose. There were no eyes to speak of. Not even the indentation of where eyes that had perhaps not formed properly was to be found. She just had smooth skin up to her hairline.
“You are staring, Little One.” The green-skinned woman spoke in a voice that sounded ancient. Dry and brittle. “I am Erinys. I have divine sight, which is how you are sitting here relatively unscathed and entirely off the covers of every gossip rag in this country. If you'll wait a moment... Ah, here she is.”
Another female demon slipped into place beside the newly introduced Erinys. This one was more human-like with tinier more impish blue wings that nearly matched the metallic blue of her short cropped hair. This demoness, dressed identically to the green-skinned demoness, reached a hand out and grasped his, giving a solid few shakes that were a bit beyond what was required. Her wide grin was playful, the polar opposite of the one who called herself Erinys' pursed line.
“I'm Marcella, a Nyx if you're wondering. Don't mind Eri, she can't help her resting-bitch face. It's part of her charm, you'll see. I am Alucard's personal aide at the Embassy and keep the wheels turning while he's away... Which is actually a lot. That guy is everywhere but at work. Every time I complain he just gives me a raise so now I am so well paid I can't even pretend I'd work anywhere else. That Ambassador sure is crafty.”
Trevor could only nod that he'd got the names and stories straight.
“The resemblance to Julius Belmont is remarkable.” Erinys remarked thoughtfully.
“Eri I am sure Trevor Belmont must be tired of the comparison after a fifteen hour flight on the same jet as Julius Belmont. A Church jet full of Church people.”
That reminded him... In all the confusion he hadn't seen Julius or Yoko. He'd not even gotten a chance to wave them goodbye once they boarded the metal bird. Were they going back to the Church headquarters? Would he see them tomorrow along with this Missy?
“Ella, show some decorum at least until we get back to the Embassy. You're making us sound like a bunch of unprofessional ghetto-trash.”
“Whoa whoa whoa, Eri. Demons who live in ghettos did not choose to live in a ghetto. Society shoved them there and made it a ghetto around them. Way to just play into stereotypes.”
“I am from the ghetto, Ella. Trust me. A lot of us are trash.” Erinys scoffed. “Who are you to posture like that anyway? What would you know about ghettos, you went to the University of Bucharest. Your silver spoon is so far down your throat it's coming out of your ass.”
“Eri, you are a wonderful woman with amazing martial skills and I am sorry the world hurt you in such a way that turned you into this. A bitter, judgmental, old hag.”
“Ella, you fail to understand that I will never be insulted by the words or opinions that come out of a babe. You're barely over a hundred, kid. What they don't teach you in fancy school is... Oh wait...” Erinys knocked on a black glass wall behind her set and the car started. “The Ambassador has made his escape from the paparazzi. And here he is about... Now.”
As if on cue Adrian slid inside the black tinted car along with one other demon in a black suit. This one looked like a fellow Moroi. Not quite a Vampyre, nor a Dhampyre, but something along the same vein. No pun intended. The black suit that got in beside the driver of the vehicle was definitely a Vampyre, however. The Dhampyre gave the three demons a gracious smile before he turned his attention to Trevor as the car pulled away from the gathered crowd that had followed his golden Adonis. Although he could see the cameras and small bulbous sticks waving through the darkened windows, it did not seem like the raucous rabid crowd could see the people inside the vehicle. Trevor felt a wave of relief at that revelation and hugged his bag to his chest in order to watch the strange city scenery blow by.
“I hope these two haven't traumatized you yet. They work fast, but I tried to get out of there before that happened.” Adrian divulged in a voice that had some personality to it unlike that detached manner he'd adopted since leaving the garden home. “We've got a bit of a drive to get to Wallachia but it will be over before you know it.”
No one else seemed to have fastened their seat-belts in this stretched out car with backseats that faced one another instead of the front of the car, so neither did the Hunter. Champagne and glasses came out of a small bar stocked in this decadent interior in order for the demons to toast Adrian's return to the fold, so to speak, which Trevor was invited to partake of. He accepted the flute and did take the single mandatory sip a toast called for but was quick to abandon his glass back on the fancy purple lighted table beside him, and was a bit thankful they had sat him on the shorter seat beside the bar. The demons were not quite shoulder to shoulder, but close, and their teasing and playfulness was too much for him to handle at that moment. It was better to observe from a slight distance like this. Trevor's lack of enthusiasm for the bubbly drink he'd fallen in love with ever since Joachim brought over the crate full of them was not lost on his ever watchful Dhampyre, but the Demon Ambassador simply gave him a minor frown and left it at that, instead choosing to focus his surrounding aides to discuss business.
The blue-haired demon with her impish wings all curled up to save space clapped her two hands together and spoke in the easy manner of a subordinate with no fear of her superior. It seemed like Adrian was a forgiving taskmaster. “The most recent events are we've been noticing a steep downward trend in the amount of demons applying for passports. With all the protests scattered across the continent and the growing support for Arcane Rights on an international scale, I believe most of our kind are understandably nervous, assuming it a better option to stay in the shadows rather than risk integration during the recent tumult.”
Pink plumage ruffled with agitation, but the green-skinned demon Erinys did not completely unfurl them. “These witches should be more considerate to our struggles as we've been to theirs. It's their vastly human privileged to protest and burn down store-fronts to make their point when if someone who looked like me were to gather similar looking friends to march down the streets, the governments around the world would be calling it the second Demon War and nuking the street from orbit.” Erinys spat. “Most of our kind do not have the luxury of protesting and disrupting daily life.”
“They are angry and tired of glacier-paced reforms, Eri.” The blue-haired Marcella replied in such a tired fashion it was obvious this was an ongoing argument between the two. “Back to business, Ambassador, because you were not available for a response to some of the more violent actions taken by lead Arcane Rights activists and the growing silence seemed to start being taken by those groups as your endorsement of such methods, our office had no choice but to release a statement that you were away from public duties for a time to manage a personal matter.” Here Marcella paused to gather her calm to continue. “Eye of Seshat Publications of course ran with that statement, running a whole article that outlined every time you've been away to 'handle a personal matter', and lined them up with plain clothes pictures of you recovering from various injuries. They even had photos from the 1960's. They posited, which is now the accepted public opinion, that you have not responded to endorse or condemn these violent acts of revolt because you are beat up again. Which has been a springboard for the more conspiracy-angled sites, with some even claiming Arcane Rights activists tried to assassinate you for not supporting their cause. I am immensely grateful that your injuries this time are covered by your clothing, my Prince. The last thing these people need is more fuel for their bonfire.”
“I started the Arcane Rights movement...” Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “I hate that conspiracy has landed these idiots so close to the truth. Seshat Publication never does me any favours, do they?”
“I am positive we could remove the building they operate out of as a threat but I doubt that would stop the cockroaches from scurrying.”
“Erinys my dear, while I have always appreciated the zeal you display for your job, you are going to have to work on modernizing your methods. This isn't the Crusades.”
“With all due respect Ambassador, how would you even know? You were only born at the tail-end of the Dark Ages.”
“Joachim has shared with me a plethora of stories and some of them are specifically about you, Erinys.”
“They are all true. Esteemed Knight Commander Armster remains a huge fan of my work to this day, and he is the kind of demon you wish to never meet on the battlegrounds.” The pink-winged woman at last flashed a full grin, but it was more grotesque than anything else. “It's a shame you've never had a chance to see the Knight Commander in action in that full regalia Walter had fashioned for him. What a marvellous sight to behold before he cut you down. You'd think an angel had come to claim you.”
“Ugh, that's enough fawning.” Adrian pulled a sour face. “And stop calling him that. Joachim hasn't commanded an army in over a millennia. The past is the past; the guy does my taxes these days.”
“Managing the military budget is a noble task not often spoken about when glory and honour are discussed, but I thought you would have already been in agreement with that, Ambassador Paper-Pusher.”
“I legitimately see more action than he does these days. I am the one out there in the field doing the sword-swinging, Hellfire raining, and dispatching my foes. More like Ambassador Kick-Ass, thank you.”
“I believe the results have spoken for themselves, Ambassador Bruised-Ass. Knight Commander Armster would have never been taken hostage--”
“Stop right there, you know he was imprisoned in the Castle waterways for over--”
“Knight Commander Armster never would have been taken hostage by some two-bit Coven. Sir.” Erinys finished, cutting Adrian off succinctly. “You are the most talented paper-pusher in our organization and your speeches are moving. Your skills as a mechanic and engineer are incredible as well. You are the beating heart of our society that pushes life and purpose into the rest of us with every breath that you take, but you must admit that your martial prowess is fair when in comparison to the Knight Commander.” If the green-skinned woman had had eyes, Trevor was certain they would be fiery. “Which is fine. We all have our skill-sets and in order for our communities to grow, we have to embrace our strengths and weaknesses and depend on eachother to move forward. You were the one who taught me that valuable lesson, with words rather than swords. Words are your finest weapon, Ambassador, and the vision you keep for us is one where we all use words over weapons. You still agree that is the way forward?”
“...I still agree.”
“Then remember that the next time your first impulse is to dive in swinging your sword and calling up Hellfire. Your words are sharper than any blade, but you cannot wield them for our sake if you're dead. Next time you need to slay your foe the old fashioned way, get your Knight to do it for you.”
“For the sake of peace, since it has been a terribly long day for me, I am going to leave this for now, but I am not conceding. Just so we're clear.”
“Crystal.”
“My Prince, she means no insult, really. You know she's emotionally stunted to the point she can't be nice without hiding it behind a tirade. We have been fraught with worry once we received news you were missing. Eri just wishes you would take more care with your safety. We all do! Really.”
“We've just agreed to leave it, Marcella. So leave it. You look like you had more to update me on before Erinys got overly emotional on us.”
Marcella, the blue-haired demon, drew herself up to her full height as far as she could in a seated position, looking as if she believed she could will the sourness the small spat had left in the air through her determined will alone. “Yes, that's correct, Ambassador.” Readily agreeing, she continued. “On top of the sharp drop in passport applications, we have had a growing number of missing person's reported from our affiliated communes. It's well documented that not everyone we take in is suited for the environment we seek to provide our residents, as peace is sometimes overwhelming to our brothers and sisters whose lives are spent in strife and survival. The issue is the reported cases have quintupled over the last three quarters and there is a specific profile of the missing persons being reported that has emerged from the data.”
“I am going to go out on a limb here and say that data shows that a starling number of young women and girls who identify as Arcanists are the bulk of these missing persons?”
“We have not reported this finding to anyone outside your immediate Office, but Seshat Publication also ran a similar story about missing Arcane users from numerous other communities across the globe. Their angle to the story is more that the Church must be suppressing and removing protesters for now, in a bid to cripple the movement. To top that off, there had to have been a leak from the Church HQ, as there are verified accounts that the Church is about to conduct an examination of an as of yet new unknown species of demon, which is a momentous occasion. There has not been an unclassified demon genotype discovered in almost a century. Conspiracy theorists are going absolutely wild with that information.” Marcella paused to catch her breath but rushed onward. “Now with the news of the missing Arcanists, the Church's possible involvement and this surprise demon discovery... There are numerous theories on what the connection is between all this recent political upset and protests and the new demon. Polls show that the general public is very concerned about this latest news and the discovery of a demon we don't have a classification for yet. Some online groups are saying that this mysterious demon who appeared out of thin-air is a sign of grave tidings. That this new demon will be the next Harbinger of Chaos. They're even saying the Castle will return on it's heels.”
“That is a whole hell of a lot of mental gymnastics going on because of one little demon discovery. No one flips out when we find a new kind of bacteria or cuttlefish.” Adrian actually groaned.
“The fervour is because the leak from the Church is verified, as the Iron Maiden's PR group put out an official statement confirming the discovery, but assuring the public that everything is being handled according to regulation and there is no reason to be concerned at this time. The demon is voluntarily presenting themselves for registration and review with the Demon Ambassador as a guarantor.”
“So in other words, if anything goes wrong it's all on me, then.” Another groan. “Well that is about what I expected from Eliza, so at least I am not disappointed in her ability to cover their asses.”
It was an awful lot of information to take in for someone missing some vital context, but as far as Trevor was able to follow along... There are a whole bunch of people who think that I am some demonic hell-spawned Harbinger sent to deliver unto the masses the End of Days? If he'd understood correctly, than it would certainly explain the fearful, distrustful and borderline hateful looks that had been cast in his direction for from the moment he'd step foot into the airport in Tokyo. Then what would that make Adrian to me in their eyes? My prophet? The messenger I've sent forth to announce my intentions to plunge this world into unmitigated chaos and despair? It was almost humorous, and maybe he could have found mirth in the ridiculous notion of the fear and aversion he'd suffered all day had not still been so raw. Trevor Belmont, Vampyre Hunter, was currently masquerading as a demon... How he was being treated by the Church officials and staff save a select few like Missy was how 'peaceful' demons were still being treated six hundreds years after the times he'd last recalled living. Nothing had truly changed at the core. The sin of being non-human alone was enough to drawn disdain, and there were still so few who would call out the ones casting such unfair gazes.
This was Sypha's entire life... Sure the Belmont clan were marginally shunned when their talents and specialties weren't in immediate demand as people feared a human that could take on the devils in the dark and come out on top time and time again. Rumours had always been whispered that their God-Given power might actually be demonic in nature. Rumours that died the moment he used that power, wherever it was granted from, to save those gossipers lives. But even at the height of the townsfolk's suspicions of his prowess, it had never been so openly displayed and relentless as he'd experienced this one day pretending to be a demon. The constant vigilance was oppressive and stifling. What I experienced all day was how she would have been treated at best in modern day Wallachia had she just been open about who and what she was. This is how Adrian and Joachim and that lovely little woman named Leila are still being viewed and categorized as... As dangerous threats. The safe world for the Adrian's and the Sypha's within it Trevor dreamed of was still just a distant dream.
The Hunter felt sick with anguish and impotent rage. Nothing had changed in all this time. Nothing was any better for the innocent devils and friendly demons he knew and loved. The ill-fitting mask made for a previous iteration of Trevor Belmont was too much to maintain, slipping as he was overcome with such an overwhelming sense of guilt. To think he was a good friend, understanding their struggles when he'd not known even a fraction of it. The Hunter grieved the utter unfairness even just the people in this car must have suffered from something out of their control. No one asked to be born, and no one got to choose their lineage. You just worked with what life handed out. They are all so amazing... All of them standing up proud under the weight of suspicions and scorn and able to laugh about it.
“You should be more tactful with your words, Ella. Your careless tongue has gone and upset our esteemed guest.” Erinys chastised.
“What!?” Marcella nearly jumped out of her chair, if the wince she gave when hitting her head on the roof of the car was anything to go off of. Rubbing the crown of her hair she finally took note of the anguish Trevor could not keep from his face no matter how hard he'd tried to keep the mask in place. “Oh no, Mister Belmont, what ever has upset you so?”
“You called him the Harbinger of Chaos, you daft twat.”
By this point even the Moroi man sitting silently beside Adrian was starting to cast concerned glances at him now. Fuck, why can I not just get myself under control? Their staring at me is making worse. It feels no different than being watched by those Church people all damn day. I am not a side-show attraction to be gawked at.
“You okay?” Adrian murmured the question from where he sat directly across from Trevor in the car, sympathy clear in those golden eyes.
It turned out being directly addressed by his Dhampyre was all he needed to claw back some control over his erratic emotions. The water blurring his vision dried up promptly and he was able to smooth out his features shortly thereafter. Answering Adrian verbally was an impossibility, but fitting the mask firmly in place manageable. Keeping it together was also likely manageable if he just turned his head and stared out the back window. Minimal eye contact and engagement would keep everything bottled up tight.
“Twat.” Erinys uttered again quietly.
The backseats of the long car fell into a long period of silence after Trevor's display of weakness. The Hunter wished there was a way he could communicate to the blue-haired Nyx that it wasn't her faithful and accurate report of recent news that had upset him nor some gloomy title bestowed by a town gossip, but the words just would not form. The poor thing was looking so guilty too, believing she'd hurt his feelings simply by relaying a rumour it might be prudent for them to be made aware of in good faith.
“What about the main village?” Adrian asked to break the silence some time later.
“Oh, the repairs to the ventilation systems are still an ongoing project, I'm afraid. You really are the best person for the job, Ambassador, as no one knows the layout as well as you do. Your lab is also the area most affected so I have heard, which makes sense given everything down there stems from your lab. Other than that lacklustre news, there really isn't much to report from the Lost Commune proper. Same old, same old. Yule festivities are ongoing, and the Town Social is hosting good ole Saint Nick himself for the kids on Commercial Christmas.” Marcella's talk of this Saint Nick character got Trevor's attention back from the blackness of the road beyond. “A heartfelt thanks has been extended to your office for it's donation of gifts for Santa to hand out.”
That all-seeing warlock named Santa will be in Adrian's village on December twenty-fifth? And this warlock has strong-armed Adrian's people into giving him a bunch of gifts? Exactly how powerful is this Santa, anyway?
“Oh, how generous of my office.” Adrian chuckled. “Did the Jolly Fat Man get me a present while we were exchanging?”
“Knight Commander Armster always gets you a gift, Ambassador.” Erinys cut in, reaching out to the bar to pull from out of small cupboard one elaborately ribbon-wrapped box. It was slim and the paper shiny and gold. The white ribbon glittering in the mauve lights along the interior of the vehicle was so captivating, Adrian could not help but take notice of his open fascination with it's beauty. As the Dhampyre pulled the ribbon free, he took a moment to lean forward and wrap the ribbon around the tie Joachim had placed in his hair in an effort to make him look more like Julius. With such a lovely ribbon, Trevor probably looked more like a storybook princess than the hero who'd come to save her now. “Hmm. Pretty things suit you, if I may be so bold to comment, Mister Belmont.” How a demon with no eyes and using what Trevor assumed was her aura to see 'divinely' knew he was now wearing a ribbon was a question for another time.
Marcella, quick to jump on the compliment train perhaps to assuage herself of a guilty conscience, piped up. “Oh, I must agree. Mister Armster spoke at length about your unique style, Mister Belmont, as his guidance was quite helpful when selecting this gift for your on their behalf.” Now it was Marcella who was digging through the slim briefcase she had by her feet to procure a smaller flat box wrapped up similarly to Adrian's. “There is a little note for you as well. 'Merry First Christmas.' Here you are, Sir.”
The note and box were handed over with a smile, the little rectangle slip of paper with the note was signed 'with love' from Joachim and what Trevor could only assume was Leila's signature. The woman could benefit on some work to her penmanship. The blue-haired demon was watching him so expectantly hopeful that he figured if he refused to open the gift box here and now before her she might really think he was mad at or even hated her for just giving an honest report to Adrian earlier. So he plucked at the ribbon. Pocketing the card in a breast pocket of his coat for safekeeping and wearing the ribbon as a bracelet – it was a stunning ribbon after all – he ended up having to shred the shiny gold paper with his claws because it was too slippy to tear open in a more civilized manner.
Inside was a simple slim white box, but inside that box was a pair of wide-banded fabric necklaces, made from a soft almost cushy material. Their design had them twisting over themselves in the front where an ornate clasp cinched them together. There was a small easy to overlook loop on each of the clasps, as if begging to hang something from them. A few suggested somethings were tucked safely alongside the two pieces of jewellery, which were four little charms to choose from. One, a full moon medallion, held between two crescent moon with both points facing out. Another was a sun encircled in a ring inscribed with every major phase of the moon cycle. A third one was the zodiac star sign of Capricorn, the stars he had been born under on the first day of the new year centuries ago, which he'd only learned the symbol of when looking at Virgo for Joachim. The fourth and final option was a symbol he knew as the Tree of Life. These charms were all arcane or mystical symbols that held great import to others, while the base bands were silver and gold, which were his favourite colours. They were fashioned to be wide enough to hide the bite-marks left by a Vampyre, Dhampyre or Succubi, but not so wide that they were unsightly. Quite the opposite, in fact. The materials used were high quality, the delicate stitching and design appreciated by a man who knew fine needlework when he saw it.
He gave Marcella the only smile he could muster as thanks. It was serviceable at best, but it allowed him to close up the box of precious trinkets and hug that to his chest now instead of his bag. It was a gift... Trevor was not often the recipient of gifts, and normally when he was handed something for his troubles, it was something with a practical use. Clothing. Boots. Even the magic rectangle Joachim had picked out for him was a necessity, as those rectangles were how all of the hunters and the demons stayed in touch with one another over long distances. The bites he could hide with his scarf like he was doing right now, as well, or by buttoning up his jacket. These precious thoughtful delicate ornaments were true cosmetic gifts. These were precious prizes to be treasured as a welcome into his new family. I better not be blushing just because I have never been given jewellery before. The flames he felt from his face was telling him it was all ready too late for that wish. Trevor Belmont, you are a fucking mess today. Just get it together already.
As a suitable distraction from heated cheeks, Trevor watched Adrian return to finish opening his gift box now that the Moroi had enjoyed watching the Hunter open his, his thin box revealing an exquisitely designed leather agenda and gold ornate companion pen. There was a little card just like Trevor had received inside Adrian's box as well. The Hunter was able to read the small note even at an angle and upside-down due to how neat and precise the Vampyre's hand was. 'I filled out the 1st page for you, Kitten.'
Adrian cracked open the cover and immediately rolled his eyes. When Trevor's keen curiosity was noticed, the Dhampyre simply tipped the agenda so that he could see the long list penned out in that familiar precise printing. “This is a list of chores for me to complete upon my return home.” Adrian divulged with a genuine hearty laugh, shared with his aides. “I have to say, it is a wonderful feeling to be back where I belong.”
“It is so wonderful to have you back as well, my Prince. The Great Mother has been looking forward to your return. She always worries about you while you are out in the field.”
“Her worries are for naught and she should save them for a more suitable child. Her grandson harasses me non-stop as is.” Adrian was joking in a relaxed good humour that Trevor had watched freeze over back at the airport in Japan. The Dhampyre was obviously comfortable here, and amongst friends. It lifted Trevor's own heart to witness. “Marcella, please rouse me once we get to Wallachia. I require a little rest from the long trip.”
“Of course, Ambassador.” Marcella promised, and the car once again fell silent as the Dhampyre slipped into a meditative rest.
With little to do himself, Trevor also closed his eyes, only opening them again once they'd entered what Marcella told him was the city of Wallachia but what he was looking at truly did not match up to anything from his memories of the place. Even in the dead of night they were passing packed streets and tall sky-reaching buildings, not unlike Tokyo allowing for differences in the architectural designs. There was a grand well-lit building that stood out from every intersection they crossed that Trevor's eyes kept being drawn towards, but that striking cathedral like building was not their destination. Where the long car was taking them was towards a more humble and even considered plain building set in a gated property that at least had rich gardens. The car pulled in and gates closed behind them.
“We're here, Mister Belmont.” Marcella was pleased to announce. “This is Wallachia's Demon Embassy. The first of it's kind although we are now proud to say that we have offices in every European country, including some territories. We also have an Embassy in England, Northern Ireland, Canada, the USA, and Mexico, and are looking to expand into South America. You will be staying here tonight with the Ambassador under his diplomatic protection. Our staff guarantee yours and the Ambassador's safety while on our premises. Come on!”
Trevor followed Adrian's lead out of the car, noticing that around their long oversized vehicle had actually been a small fleet of cars filled with those men in the black suits. There wasn't really a moment to take in the scene as the Moroi whose species who could not quite place and the full-blooded Vampyre who'd sat with their driver hustled him inside without a word. It seemed this was actually their job, looking and acting the parts of bodyguards. They only dispersed with a short nod and a 'Sir' once they'd shuffled Trevor into the elevator after their Ambassador. The doors closed and the uncomfortable lurch elevator's gave him lasted a lot longer than he had anticipated, but eventually he was set free. Out of the elevator was only one small hallway. Here was nowhere else to go but to the door at the end where two more Moroi in black, these ones both Vampyres, stood guard. They opened the door for Adrian, welcoming and waving him inside, but stayed where they were stationed, closing the door on Trevor's heels.
Trevor was so trained by the day's events to follow Adrian's lead that he did so mindlessly, playing the Dhampyre's shadow until Adrian stopped abruptly and Trevor truly took note of his current surroundings. Adrian's luggage that held Trevor's small mementos like Sypha's coin was lined up along the side of an expansive bed, even bigger than the one that had been in the garden home. Their winter coats were also laid out on a cozy looking bench that sat a the foot of that luxuriously linened mattress. They were standing in an expansive bedroom that held the largest bath tub Trevor had ever seen just off-side behind a dark wooden lattice partition. That thing could probably hold four people in it. But above everything else, Trevor realized he was standing in this expansive bedroom with Adrian. Alone. They were finally alone together.
Adrian took his bag and his gift box out of his hands and placed them on the same bench beside his coat, turning slowly to study the silent Hunter before him who clearly wasn't sure what to do with himself after a gruelling long journey of high-strung emotions and unabating tension. Adrian took pity on the pitiful wretch before him, removing the guesswork out of the situation by spreading his arms and welcoming the exhausted, nervous mess into the soothing safety of his embrace. “You have no idea how terribly I've wanted to do this for the last eighteen hours. Keeping my hands off you when you are right beside me and struggling was heartbreaking.” The Dhampyre confessed, running his large hands all along Trevor's back and combing long piano-fingers through his hair. “You did so well today, Trevor, and I am so proud of you. Hopefully we can get everything Eliza needs done with you and I tomorrow so there's only that to get through, but after seeing how you held out today I know you can do it. Even if it gets harder.”
He is too good for a pathetic thing like me. Alone together for the first time after a painfully difficult ordeal, Trevor's mask finally fell off and shattered completely. This is your life every day, Adrian. How can you stand to comfort me whose barely walked in your shoes? He felt so helpless when faced with the dragon Adrian had to slay. So useless and a burden...
Oh no, I am crying. He's going to hurt because I am crying.
“Sweetheart, come here. Come closer.” Adrian urged, so concerned with his show of weakness the Dhampyre ended up scooping him into his arms to cradle on the bed. “Shh... It was a really long and tough day, but it's over now. You were great... It was scary and tense, but you made it. Tomorrow won't be any worse than this, so you already know you'll get through it. But for tonight, you're done. It's okay to let it all out now.”
“...I'm sorry.”
“What a fucking relief.” Adrian's sudden outburst and bear-hug startled him. “I was so afraid you were going to be a mute again for god knows how long because of all the stress I just put you through.” Then, as if being hit with some internal realization, Adrian pulled back to meet his eyes, his own gold ones full of shame and guilt. “Please ignore what I just said, it is not fair or right for me to put that burden on you. If it's going to help make things easier for you and you need to be quiet for a bit, just be quiet. I'll be here for you when you're ready to talk. I should not be putting more stress on you, Trevor. Just... Do what you feel you need to do. Okay?”
“...Sorry” Pathetically, it was all the Hunter could muster. He was sorry he couldn't help Adrian better, and now he was sorry he couldn't tell Adrian why he had cried. What a mess...
“Please go get something to eat out of the fridge. They stocked it for you, and I think you would feel better with a little something in your stomach to off-set all the bile and nerves. I am going to draw you a nice hot bath in the meantime. After a good soak, I'll tuck you into bed and I promise I'm going to hold you the whole night long. You can cry some more or sleep, whatever you need. But I am not going to let you go, Trevor Belmont. It's you and I against the world from here on out, remember?”
Trevor nodded and climbed to his feet. Food was the furthest thing from his mind, but if he didn't eat something Adrian was going to have one more thing to worry about, and Trevor didn't want to be something Adrian worried about any longer.
So he needed to be the best version of himself he could be.
Chapter 51: The Gambit pt. 2
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Demon Embassy, Wallachia
Sage, cedar, bergamot and rose oils along with a healthy dose of epsom salts aromatherapy was the main player for the stage Alucard set in the now candle-lit bedroom. The bulk of the soothing lighting located around the large tub now ready for soaking. Long white-gold tresses he wound haphazardly up into more or less a messy bun, where they would be safe from the water as he ducked out into the sparsely lit living area with attached kitchenette in order to check in on the Hunter. The brunette in question was found looking a little lost as he perched on one of two bar stools lined up against the half-wall partition. On a plate was the picked at carcass of a ciabatta bun as well as bits of cheese. Not exactly the meal the Dhampyre sorely wished the man would have put in his belly, but he held his tongue and accepted the loss of that battle. It did seem the Hunter had found the chocolate dipped strawberries Alucard had specifically asked for. As well as the ever-present bottle of wine Alucard tended to have within arms reach anywhere the demon could be found. In any other state of mind, he may of wondered if that persistent inclination was the sign of a burgeoning drinking problem.
“They're good.” Trevor's hushed voice relayed as he held up one of the dipped fruits for the Dhampyre to nibble from his fingertips. An invitation he did not delay in accepting.
“I thought you would like them...” Quietly confessing, he gathered the small tray of dipped and drizzled fruits and urged the younger man to follow on his heels. “Let's finish them in a more relaxing place, okay?”
Taking the hint, Trevor grabbed the wine and the two glasses he'd set out and followed along wordlessly. After setting the goods down he allowed Alucard to tie up his hair even higher on his head, pinning the loose pieces so as to keep them from the water as well. It would save time and allow Trevor a longer opportunity to sleep by not having to wash and style his chestnut locks tomorrow... Well. Later today, truth be told. It was already tomorrow. He also seemed to not just tolerate but welcome Alucard helping him to undress slowly, the demon taking the time to caress and admire each swatch of skin he revealed with every discarded garment. The Hunter seemed a little distracted by the shirt garter bands as he divested himself in due fashion, but otherwise kept his hands to himself. Instead, Trevor fingered the plush towels and robes set out alongside the tub with a satisfied if soft noise and slipped languidly into the humid heat below with a sigh. The Dhampyre was not far behind him, but it had been the curious sight of the Hunter's back that beckoned him closer now, and not his amorous desires.
Neither Trevor nor Joachim had mentioned the diagonal tattoo-like design imprinted and skirting Trevor's shoulderblades. They felt no different from the Hunter's flesh as he ran his thumbs tentatively down the shape of their brand, almost asking where they had come from before stopping himself. Even now Trevor was not bringing them up, and they were in a place he could not see without the aid of a mirror... Paranoia demons kept the man firmly away from his reflection as well so was it possible he wasn't aware of these marks?
Strange inky black brands... Alucard hummed to himself, weighing the options of bringing a troubling thing up after such a terribly gruelling day for the exhausted Hunter, on the eve of what would likely be another terribly stressful one. Deciding ultimately it was best to let it lay for now. Perhaps being examined by the Church tomorrow would shed some light on this new addition to the familiar flesh before him. If not, then once they were safely back in the Lost Commune, Alucard would bring them up. He couldn't say how long they had been there already, and they did not seem to be doing any harm for now.
After the poor thing's long day of high-strung nerves, Trevor seemed more than content to curl up almost entirely within the confines of his embrace and let the Dhampyre feed him strawberries and sips of wine they both knew they should probably abstain from given what lay on the horizon, but then again... Did one always have to do what they knew they should do? Alucard for that matter was more than content to taste his own treats while enjoying the careful deliberate ways Trevor was running his fingers along the visible tendons and veins of the Dhampyre's hands and arms, concluding with a splayed palm laid over his beating heart.
It was in that quiet position that the Hunter finally spoke, eyes unfocused and offside, seemingly staring at nothing but the dancing shadows cast upon the far wall. “What am I in for tomorrow, Adrian? How can I prepare so I do not say or do anything that would reflect poorly on you?”
That last tidbit caught him a bit by surprise. “There's no way you can react tomorrow that would do me any harm, Trevor, so don't think like that. You just focus on keeping yourself within your comfort level, and do not hesitate to put a stop to anything you do not like, all right?”
“If you say so... Then tell me something I may not like that I should expect to encounter.” The Hunter all but whispered, half buried in his own thoughts. “It would be preferable to minimize surprises, yes?”
“Well...” If there was a chance the discussion would help ease the Hunter's mind and get him to sleep faster, what would the harm be? Although he had to admit, there was a risk it would backfire and instead have the opposite effect... “Most of these reviews are pretty standardized as a lot of species have already been studied and logged extensively. Because of Joachim, you are a 'new' genotype that will require a ground-up examination. You can blame him for that. It's been a long time since I was witness to the experience but you'll have blood and tissue samples taken there to run against the ones already submitted. You will have a full body MRI, which is a scan that will show the research team the inner workings of your tissues and organs, your bone structure, and help them identify any anomalies they have not seen before. They'll probably do a dye test as well. None of these things will hurt, but you will be enclosed a bit in the area to do the scan. The dye test will make you feel like you peed your pants, but trust me, you won't have. And honestly that's as far as it will probably go when you come back as human as the rest of them. At which that point I will advise Eliza I simply needed a surefire way to get you over the ocean and back in Romania, as well as a surefire way to verify that you are Julius and Yoko's biological ancestor. Which you will undeniably be proven to be at that point. So we'll be fine. You can punch your new buddy on the ride back for instigating all of this.” Alucard had to stop himself from chuckling at the mental image before he instigated a mini throw-down of his own. Trevor was as particularly protective of Alucard's Vampyre Master as the elder demon was of him. “Just... Pull your punches a little if you decide to. That method he uses to move in the blink of an eye is really not sustainable nor suitable for extended periods of travel and he will be drained getting back here in time to come with us.”
“...I wish you would both put as much thought into your own care as you do mine.” The Hunter shook his head, turning slightly to cast a pensive glance in his direction. He sucked in his lower lip to chew on as he thought, and Alucard couldn't help but notice like how Trevor had absorbed some of Yoko's turns of phrase, he had also now stolen the major self-soothing habit Joachim regularly displayed. Just as he had absorbed Sypha's verbal ticks hundreds of years prior... And if the silkiness of his hair was anything to go by while Alucard had pinned it up and away from the humidity, just how Trevor was now picking up his own vain grooming habits.
Those unique steel coloured jewels in his eyes were fire forged in the candlelight, reflecting back a smoulder that went hand in hand to feed the Dhampyre's ego that there was something about himself, superficial or not, that Trevor found worth emulating. The way he bruised his lower lip into a rouge pout combined with the wet skin and wetter heat drove the Dhampyre's imagination wild. Such a rare and special creature that against all odds had not only landed in his lamp centuries prior, but been returned to his care just as fortuitously. As he had numerous times before, Alucard considered the fluid beauty for all the debonair Lordly charms he exuded effortlessly in one way only to turn mid-stride and have her morph into the perfect picture of a Lady. Trevor could be and was either and everything there was to desire in one neat little package, ready to be tied up with the finest ribbons money could buy. A pretty present that had planted itself in his undeserving hands and agreed – after so much protest, one really could not be anything but suspicious of – to play the Princess to his storybook Hero fantasy. His promised Prințesă.
Alucard wanted him so desperately his heart felt as if it would tear itself from his chest. Wanted so slavishly to serve and worship at this temple, it consumed all other thoughts.
“Adrian...” The burning steel widened, flushed lips parting, as the fair Maiden before him gasped in equal parts shock and delight. In her smaller hand beneath the waterline was gripped his rigid flesh, sprung to into action at last after his near death experience. She gasped again when he pulled her up and over to straddle him, assailing her neck, shoulders, and chest with greedy and celebratory kisses. Claws were raking but not cutting the back of his own neck and hairline as that quiet voice chanted his name wantonly over and over again.
“Please tell me you want me to fuck you, Trevor. I am going to just die if you don't give me permission to have you.”
“My saying this may go against the romantic mood you set, but if you don't fuck me right now, Adrian, I am going to be the one who puts you in your grave for the last time.”
Fair Maiden long gone, the Hunter's predatory gaze sent him scrambling to throw the towels and robes out in a suitable area to splay the hot body on top of him now below. Submerged sex was a terrible idea from experience, as was using the essential oils he still had lined up along the bath as lubrication, but the look on Trevor's face said that if he even considered leaving to get proper supplies the Hunter would follow through on that hissed threat. A one way ticket to six feet under. Fair enough. Alucard was a consummate professional in the Sex Olympics, so he resigned himself to work with what was on hand, spreading the Hunter's legs wide enough to slip between, letting his knees dangle over the in-ground tubs edge back into the warm bathwater. With Trevor pressed down onto the carpet of towels and robes, he was ready and waiting for the Dhampyre to fall over him and devour. Teeth, hands and lips grazing and scraping their way down towards the prize, ensuring to take their delicious and tortuous time to arrive.
The major opening act following the warm-up he decided would be to take the Hunter's length in his mouth and tease it until it sat full mast before moving lower. He kissed inner thighs and left love-bites along the inner seam before tonguing and mouthing at the smooth skin of the man's testicles and perineum. For a brief moment his hands tightened on those equally smooth thighs as he considered flipping Trevor over to gain better access to wet and devour that tempting round ass, but the responding tension in those same thighs as he gripped them urged him to abandon the idea. The Hunter seemed to have some apprehensions about being placed in the same position that rutting animals preferred. Which was fine, really. There were dozens of other ways to eat out your partner. Bearing in mind how he'd scared the Hunter the last time he dove in for a taste however, he decided a more sensual and gentle approach would be best, now draping a leg over his shoulder and taking his time to massage and kiss his way closer to the target.
“Ahh... Th-that is so... Weird.” The Hunter breathlessly half murmured and half moaned. His body was tensely coiled and the hands gripping at Alucard's scalp tight and uncertain. But with patient persistence and a free hand to distract by soothingly running the length of that holstered leg over his shoulder, Alucard succeeded in calming the brunette's apprehensions. The clawed hands formally gripping near painfully now pulled gently, as if urging his tongue to probe deeper, which of course was a desire he was all too willing to see satisfied. “Ahh... A-Adrian...” Breathy moans followed suit. “Please... right there. It's almost too good.” Then, as if suddenly exasperated, Trevor half sat up to rest on his elbows are glared hard down at the Dhampyre buried between his splayed thighs. “Just how long is your damn tongue?”
With a wicked grin and an absolutely lewd final lap at the glistening ring of muscle before him, full unbroken eye contact as he did so, the Dhampyre's following comment earned him a knee to the side of the head. “Long enough I could probably get you off this way if you let me. You've got an eager hole, Trevor Belmont.”
“If you're going to be that crass about my body, you may as well find another one to degrade.”
The Dhampyre couldn't help but take the outburst – and blow to his temple – in stride, grinning affectionately down at the man he was now lining up his erection to slide inside of inch by wonderful feeling inch. “That was a compliment. You're body is so sensitive it's a great pleasure to both touch and watch react to all kinds of stimuli.” Trevor was still giving him a pouty look so in response he gave one firm thrust to the hilt and leaned over to watch the Hunter squirm about with his full girth slotted perfectly inside his pretty Prințesă. “Here, put your hand where mine is.” When Trevor only managed to sort of glare at him, still adjusting to the feeling of fullness, Alucard took one of the brunette's hands and placed it just below his belly button, splayed. Then he started to move, pushing on Trevor's hand with his own. “You feel that? That's how deep I am inside you.”
The Hunter was completely beside himself, speechless, for the second time in a twenty-four hour time-span, save those quiet gasps and sighs as Alucard thrust slowly in and out with precise care. Speechless, but the red tinge of his cheeks could be either passion or rage. It was still too early to say.
Gambling on red, Alucard lowered himself down so that they were more face to face and spoke softly as he kept up that languid teasing pace he'd set. A pace that would never do more than slightly tease the itch that had been building in his promised Prințesă. “You've been wanting this for a long time, right? I don't even care if it's just my cock churning your guts you couldn't stop thinking about, or if it was the whole package. Enjoy it with me, Trevor. Let me possess and own you for a little while before I set you free again. Whatever it is you've been desiring from me, you can have as much of it as you want... It's all yours, after all.”
“It's you.” The once more demure maiden confessed shyly. “I just wanted you again.”
That was a sweet sentiment to be shared. So sweet he let his lips ghost an ear to make a confession of his own. “I wanted you so much too. Feeling you when you're like this, when you're so open and honest with me without any walls to climb over... You're intoxicating, Trevor Belmont. I'm happy to be all yours when you want me this way.”
The Hunter was pulling at him again, arms thrown loosely around his neck and shoulders, until he was covering every inch of Trevor's trembling body, until the smaller man could capture his lips is a searing series of deep kisses that left his head spinning and mind numb beyond the sensations trapped between them.
“You're shaking...” He did manage to whisper between breaths. “I'll be gentle, my Prințesă. You don't need to be afraid.”
“I trust you.” Trevor assured him in the same breathless manner. “I am just... It is overwhelming, you know?” Turning his head off-side, the Hunter seemed to be staring at the dancing shadows once more. “I kept thinking about submitting to you like this for so long, I almost don't know what to do with myself now that it is happening.”
Alucard had a simple answer to that dilemma. He smoothed the flyaways of his Prințesă's hair back and pulled her closer to the edge of the bathtub so as to catch and push her legs against her chest, picking up the pace once he had the purchase to do so. Once he had her whimpering and mewling beneath him, the Dhampyre took a moment to bend and purr into her ear. “I will take care of you if you want me to.” Sweet promises made, he prompted. “Will you let me take care of you, Trevor?”
“Nghhh...” The Hunter's voice was getting higher as were his pupils blown wide. “It's too good, Adrian. It feels so good I don't... I don't know what to... What to...”
As one of Trevor's arms slipped from it's place around his shoulders, the Dhampyre barely caught wandering limb by it's wrist before the Hunter could take himself in hand to stroke himself to completion. The look of dismay she cast his way as Alucard denied her the quickest pathway to sweet relief was almost too adorable for words. “Pretty little Prințesă, what do you think you are doing?” He teased, placing the hand he'd captured to rest against his wildly beating heart. “Your prince is right here, Prințesă, so what else could you possibly need? Feel how my heart is beating for you?”
Thrusting at a smooth but relentless pace now and close to his own limit, Alucard watched Trevor's shuddering body for the signs he was about to go over the edge, noticing that that although the man was losing his mind hovering at the precipice, there must have been something that was missing. Some minor component of this fantasy that the Dhampyre had failed to fulfill.
Ahh, of course. The demon mused. While he was certainly of mind that wanting and being on the receiving end of a deep-dicking did absolutely zero to diminish one's masculinity, Trevor seemed to still harbour some problematic fifteenth century hang-ups about what he was allowed to desire. While there would be plenty of time to work on that at a later date, for right now it hurt no one if he played along. Harmless fantasies, born from stigma or not, were still harmless, and they were both consenting adults here.
Leaning back down so that his voice once more ghosted the Hunter's ear, grey-blue eyes lidded and lost in pleasure, the Dhampyre took his final gamble of the night. He was either right on the money or about to spoil the whole mood... But he'd been lucky so far. Slipping a supportive hand under Trevor's arching back – so close, the poor thing was hovering so close to ecstasy – Alucard growled into the Hunter's ear the perfect praise that finally sent her crashing over.
“Good girl.”
That was it. The perfect gamble. The way the body around him clenched and convulsed as it rode out it's pleasure sent him down that same path shortly thereafter. By the time he had enough of his wits gathered to take stock of their panting sweaty sprawl, Trevor was still out for the count, dazed and incoherent to Alucard's gentle attempts to check in and ensure he was all right. As carefully as he could manage he gathered the limp mess of limbs up and slipped them both back into the bathwater to rinse the evidence of their tryst away. Trevor having fallen into such a state of being barely conscious he did not even protest Alucard's swish of fingers to clean out the mess he'd made in his lover's body.
“Well, I think you're toast.” The Dhampyre mused, towelling off his precious cargo and after wrapping him up into a plush robe, tucked the now fully unconscious man between the covers of the bed.
Needless to say, Alucard thought the whole affair a resounding successful return to form. And while he may have quit smoking tobacco in the early 2000's, the urge to light up all of a sudden hit with a vengeance. In his adjacent office was a pack of Tradition Platinum, a brand he kept around in stock for meetings with guests who still had the habit. Dressed in only the plush robe, Alucard stepped outside onto his small balcony to sit and smoke a singular slim cigarette while he basked in the afterglow of meeting all his lovely Prințesă's desires.
It would have been a perfect end to a long shitty day if not for the drone hovering by the treetops to spy on what he could only wish was his private moment. It was nothing a small bit of Hellfire could not destroy, but it was likely too little too late. As the device turned to ash on the wind, Alucard pulled at his gaping robe that had slipped a little off-shoulder. Some of his anointed silver burns had been visible. His injuries were most assuredly captured for all time and more than likely about to be more fuel for the conspiracy fires online.
“Fucking Seshat Publications.”
*****
December 2037 ~ Demon Embassy, Ambassador suite, Wallachia
Arghh, I hate that goddamn alarm clock.
Today was the day Alucard finally succumbed to the temptations of his dark lineage over a petty matter. Such urges were commonplace yet always ignored in favour of civility and reason. That was not the case as the Scion of Dracula arose from the dead of sleep to the cacophony of the electronic chattering noise-box combusting. Melting plastic running over the sides of the nightstand with an acrid stench waking his precious little French flower with a start. When the Dhampyre realized the Hunter's first instinct upon waking to a possible threat was leap from the bed in face of potential danger and yank him behind the smaller body intent on protecting him from the source of concern, Alucard's building temper tantrum evaporated instantly.
“Did it... Malfunction?” The Hunter tilted his head quizzically, releasing Alucard's hand now that it was clear there was nothing to defend him from. The Dhampyre was so pleased he pounced immediately. “Whoa, okay. Good morning... That's... You're squeezing me a little tight, don't you think?”
“Let's forget this whole thing we're supposed to do later and just run away together, Ralph. I'll change my name to Mathias and you can just call me Matt. I'll play piano in a casino for cash and you can be a barmaid.”
Looking up at him over a shoulder with an incredulous look, Trevor held out his hands as if he was trying to cup his non-existent breasts and shot him down. “I'm about two handfuls too short to be a tavern wench; It will never work.”
“Well not with that attitude. We'll just stuff your bra with some rolled up socks. You can pull it off; You pull off everything!”
“Adrian... What the hell is this really about? Are you getting cold feet now? I am the one about to be poked and prodded... Is there something you are not telling me?”
“No. No, of course not... I just...” A sigh later, he released Trevor from his tight embrace. “Did you ever pull your covers up over your head at night as a child because the monsters couldn't get you so long as you stayed under them?”
Trevor half-turned to get a better look at his twitchy form, tilting his head back the other way while wearing a gentle look. It was strange how last night this little thing before him had needed so much comfort and support and yet now here he stood, patiently coaxing the Dhampyre's head out of the hole in the sand he was trying to be buried in. “When I was a child I slept with a practice whip and silver daggers in my bed. If the monsters ever came, they would have left when they saw I was ready for them.” Came the simple reply that was not so simple the longer Alucard considered it. “You will probably feel a little more confident if you put your armour on, Adrian.”
“My armour?”
“Yes.” Trevor nodded, fetching the Dhampyre's luggage from the foot of the bed to retrieve the carefully wrapped suit in a pristine garment bag. Trevor went so far as to unzip the bag a little to take a sneak peak at the suit inside, holding it up against his chest as if to visualize the final product. “I like that you know how to dress well. I have no notes for you, Adrian. This will suit your features splendidly.”
Alucard knew there was now heat lighting up those same features Trevor was admiring, but the demon chose to ignore that little fact. “Are you all right, Trevor? You seem quite different this morning...”
“Oh? It must be because of you then.” The Hunter replied sweetly, digging out his own selection of clothing for the day. “A nice long soak, a delicious treat of strawberries and chocolate, and a healthy of dose of vitamin D-”
“What the fuck?” Alucard's burst of laughter cut the Hunter clean off. “Which one of those horny crude animals taught you that one?”
“That one was Julius, actually.” Trevor fessed up, reaching out playfully to tickle his sides, knowing the Dhampyre was overly weak to that light kind of touch. He took advantage of that fact to play wrestle the demon back onto the bed, pushing Alucard down and climbing atop to straddle him so that when Trevor performed that sexy little full body twist that swung his hair all to one side, the very same motion grinding down on Alucard's lap in all the right places, there was no other course of action but to reach out and pull that coy little minx into a Vampyre's kiss. “Ahh... Drink up. It's going to be another long day.”
Lapping sensually at freshly made puncture marks, Alucard begged for even a morsel of clarity. “Please tell me exactly what I did right for you, Trevor Belmont, and I promise I'll keep doing it.”
As was the often vexing man's custom, the Hunter answered the question with one of his own. “How immediate is the need to get ready? Like... Do I have twenty minutes or a half hour to spare? Maybe forty-five minutes?”
“Are you wondering if there's time to help me get my daily vitamin injection?”
“You look a little pale, is all.”
Now that made him laugh in the kind of way you had to throw your head back for, so since he was already halfway there, Alucard completely sprawled beneath the lithe body atop him and pulled the Hunter in with the hook of his long legs. Trevor nearly squealed which was a fun new kind of noise to discover could be pulled out of the brunette. “Are you aware that being your whore is turning into a full time job?”
“Is that a yes, Adrian, because I would really like to walk around today with the confidence of a man who just fucked the Demon Ambassador.”
“Of course it's a yes; I am the Demon Ambassador. Everyone waits for me anyway.”
“You are quite cute when you act like a spoiled rich firstborn.” The Hunter grinned down at him, peeling the robe open fully so as to tease already pert nipples exactly the right way Alucard wanted to be touched.
“It's cute that you still think it's an act.” The Dhampyre joked back, turning around and bending forward on his forearms to show off the long line of his spine and a handful of his other best assets. “Creature of habit, so everything you need is right where you'd think to find it.” Advise given with a vague gesture towards the nightstand, Alucard allowed his legs to spread open naturally and grinned in anticipation.
Somewhere between twenty and thirty minutes later he was laid out on his back enjoying a warm washcloth tidying up the remnants of their little morning exercise. Whatever nervous energy he'd woken up with that demanded they just flee the country was long gone, leaving only a relaxed and sated demon, who could have the confidence knowing he'd been fucked by Trevor Belmont, Vampyre Hunter. One who was ready to face down Madame Director Eliza Levin in the middle of her home field. That he'd paid for. That was important to remember.
Right.
Alucard sat up abruptly to catch Trevor's lips before he got too far away, and together wearing matching wide self-satisfied smirks they dressed for the annoying commitments Joachim had forced them into. With a little help from a how-to video they even managed to get Trevor's hair up in a mid-length ponytail that sported a bit of flair to it. Alucard even spent perhaps a little too much time helping Trevor pick out which charm her wanted on his new choker and then securing it in place for his lovely little doll. It was the one that had all the phases of the moon around an archaic looking sun. After a small bite for the Hunter to eat and coffees made ready to go, the duo shut the door on the Ambassador suite behind them with a borderline vengeance and climbed back into the elevator to hit the ground floor running.
“Oh, so you are deciding to grace us with your presence after all?” Brittle and brutally dry, Erinys merged effortlessly in step with his ever growing party, joined by Embassy security staff. “We were about to send the Rakshasas in to do the whole damn examination for you.”
“If you want someone to blame for my tardiness you can direct your ire over to our guest. It's his fault.” Alucard quipped, stepping out the Embassy doors held open for the entourage and into his limo, also held open for him. “The Church is more than aware I am a Dhampyre, and that Dhampyre's do not do morning appointments.”
Trevor, who was sliding in next to him took a quick look around at the faces he was seeing and pulled at Alucard's sleeve. His expression was one of mild confusion, and his scent slightly troubled.
“What's wrong..?” The Dhampyre started, but then he too realized something was missing. Checking through the partition between the driver and the passenger cabin only added to his own suspicions. “Where is Joachim? I thought he was hellbent on tagging along in spite of the toll travelling fast enough to make it for that long was going to take on him.”
“Knight Commander Armster did not arrive as expected, nor has he checked in, as is the protocol.” Erinys informed him emotionlessly. “Perhaps your assumption was correct and he found the journey made under such a tight deadline too draining.”
Well they both knew that couldn't be true, as the Vampyre would rather show up and die from essence exhaustion the moment he landed than say he was going to do something and then not follow through. It was one of those weird pride things with him. Alucard checked his phone but that too was dead end. There were no new messages and Joachim appeared offline. He hated to even try, but he did send Leila a neutral strictly business text informing her of the anomaly and to please let him know if she'd heard from her father.
“Do you still have his mirror on you?” The Dhampyre asked, turning towards the Hunter and receiving the pinkish shell case from out of his inner coat pocket promptly. Suspicions growing, the mirror that had been their emergency back-up for centuries was also dead silent. There had been no echo from it's twin back in Japan. He gave it back to Trevor to stow away and shook his head when the Hunter's grey-blue eyes searched out his own gold. “Well, that is a little strange.”
“We have a winged acquaintance in Osaka, Ambassador. Shall I ask them to pass by the residence you were using?” The green-skinned demoness inquired, already pulling out her phone in preparation. She complied immediately once Alucard gave her the go-ahead. “I will let you know if she finds anything, concerning or not.”
“Thank you, Eri.” Speaking more gently now, he turned back towards the troubled Hunter and knocked the smaller man's knees with one of his own. “Don't look so glum, chum. You've met him, haven't you? That Vampyre is tough.”
“...So are you, but look what happened.” The Hunter's hush voice silenced the interior of the vehicle until it pulled into their destination. The gleaming white cathedral-esque construction that was the focal point of every main Wallachian city street.
By then it was too late to even attempt putting together some lame assemblage of mollifying words that likely would do very little to ease Trevor's concern, as from the moment they stepped out of the limo a sea of flashing cameras and noisy reporters tried to surge in against the Church's own wall of internal security agents. The chaos put the Hunter on edge instantly although to look at him you could never tell. Still, Alucard was impressed at the difference a day could make, as that shuddering dread the poor thing had reeked of during the flight overseas was nowhere to be found. Just a modest amount of wariness, and all of it justifiable. Trevor did exceptionally well, keeping his eyes forward and stepping forward with all the confidence of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. It reminded the Dhampyre of their stay in the abandoned house long ago, and how Trevor had with benign lordly air talked a rabble ready to burn the house down around them to calm. That's how he looked now, and all eyes could not help but be drawn to him. An effortless grace the Demon Ambassador could only hope he was also exuding.
Once the twenty foot ornately carved and gilded doors shut tightly behind, the only noise left ringing in Alucard's ears was the soft thoughtful chanting of Byzantine era hymns being piped through the Church's headquarter main halls. Opulence dripping over every square inch of the interior, the area Trevor and he now stood had most recently become a World Heritage site, although to look at the Hunter's neutral expression and steady gaze you wouldn't wrong for assuming the man could care less. Alucard was just happy that Missy was present to greet them, punctual as ever.
Her heels rung out along the marble corridors as she lead them the long-way through towards the research labs seemingly for Trevor's benefit, as she gave a minor tour of sorts, pointing out ancient Church artifacts, historical tapestries and artworks ranging from pottery, sculpture and various iconography. They were marched by the both the sweeping and grand area for worship that was open to the public – with a full service currently ongoing – as well as the private but no less extravagant hall for the staff members to get their daily blessings, before finally heading up the stairs to the more business oriented, but again, no less palatial section of the Church's offices. Now they were in a functioning workspace, bustling with IA's, AIA's and administrative bodies in a lavish series of halls with dedicated specialties. Human resources, public relations, dispatch, intake, records. Higher up accessible from only another set of stairwells by the Records Department was where friendly, beautiful Missy turned them over to the Chief of Staff for the Demonology Department. A timid man that Alucard could never remember the name of, and even as he introduced himself for the sake of the Hunter, it plain old refused to register.
Trevor's noble airs seemed to intimidate the tiny little man further as he stuttered to explain what they would be doing in regards to hair, blood, tissue samples, as well as describing the types of scans and tests they would like to run, seemingly waiting for the brunette's permission to go ahead. As this all sounded like standard procedure and above board, Alucard agreed to it on the Hunter's behalf, explaining that the 'demon' they were here to examine was not much of a talker. The lab techs tasked with taking the samples also seemed to be affected by the Hunter's stoic unreadable mask and mysterious air. Their responses ranging from open staring to the same nervous fumbling their Chief of Staff displayed, but most seemed charmed by him either way. One of the younger female team members was so obviously smitten the Dhampyre ended up stealthily melting one of the screws of her stool so that it jerked her violently to her feet just as she was getting what Alucard deemed to be... Too handsy with his perfect, promised Prințesă.
“All of this has a rush on it and a full team of our best technicians designated to process. We're looking at eight hours give or take for the majority of the completed results, but some of the basics we'll have back in an hour.” The timid man mumbled. “If Mister Belmont is ready now for the imaging and dye tests?”
Trevor was, and as Joachim had warned him, refused to remove the choker when he was given a simple hospital gown to change into. Alucard had to smooth that one over as well, promising the materials would not interfere with any of the readings of the machinery. He was not allowed into the test chamber for obvious reasons, but Trevor could see him behind the glass wall, and that seemed to be enough to get him to comply with their instructions in an aloof but obedient manner. Their first order of business was a full body MRI that started from the Hunter's head and worked it's way down his body.
“Oh wow.” One of the techs broke professionalism with a sudden outburst. “The subject is supposed to be male, correct?”
Just what the hell was that comment about? The Dhampyre frowned and fixed the technician currently being reprimanded by his superior with his hardened glare. “Something you'd like to share?”
“Apologies for my colleague, Ambassador. The results will be ready in due time. Please be patient while we finish our exam.”
“How about a sneak peak for an frequent customer?”
“Again, apologies Ambassador. We must follow protocol to ensure our test results are not compromised. Please wait for the data to be compiled and verified.”
Looks like I have to wait to figure out this one then...
Next on the docket was the dye test to assess the Hunter's vascular functions. Sure enough he looked down as the intravenous iodinated contrast medium was injected and needed to be assured by the nurse administering the dose that it was just a sensation that he had urinated, and nothing more. Thankfully the CT scan for this test went quickly as even through the glass partition Alucard would smell the Hunter was starting to get restless and anxious with all the medical equipment around him. The man had not enjoyed his hospital stay in the slightest. There was a bit of a hiccup here as another researcher stepped in to request if the Hunter would consent to an internal ultrasound, which Alucard swiftly denied without even consulting the subject in question. There was no reason to. Trevor was not going to consent to a stranger shoving a transducer up his ass. He barely allowed to his lover shoving a vibrator up there, after all.
There was a compromise of a regular ultrasound, which meant they had to sit for forty minutes while the Hunter steadily downed enough water to make the test worthwhile. But while Trevor was laying there with slightly narrowed eyes at the feel of cool jelly on his lower abdomen, that sneaky little technician asked him directly if he would consent to an internal one, explaining the process as she finished up the external one. Alucard had never seen a human move so fast. Trevor was half-hidden behind him and glaring daggers at the woman before the whoosh of the paper sheet had even settled back down. Now was the time the Hunter was supposed to empty his bladder so they could wrap up the final steps of the test but by this point the Hunter refused to let the problematic probe-obsessed tech even breathe in his general vicinity. They had to call in a replacement who swore up and down it was just going to be a repeat of what he'd just consented to only without a painfully full bladder before the Hunter begrudgingly obliged. Not without first catching the hand that brought the external wand closer in a grip that made the newest tech wince, ensuring with his own two eyes it was the same instrument as previous.
There was one final upset to what Alucard thought would be standard routine and that was one of the techs from the MRI room joined by that one flirty woman who had helped collect blood and tissue samples returning to request a biopsy of the a section of tissue from the Hunter's back. Trevor seemed more than a little fed up by this point after threat of a foreign object being inserted into his person, but he grit his teeth and let them lead him to a sterile room where the back of his gown was opened for them to get a sample of what Alucard could see was the strange inky black tattoo. It looked like they had a hell of hard time getting a proper punch of the tissue, as if the ink was resistant to the sharp instrument. A waterproof band-aid had been provided and placed over his biopsy site once they were done.
That's that then. Perhaps they will be able to tell me what it is after they run their tests?
After all that Trevor was shown to a private washroom where he could take the time to clean away any remaining gel off his body and redress at his leisure. Which Alucard noted was quite leisurely, as the man was in there for a bit longer than it really should have taken. Then again, it wasn't every day a stranger in an even stranger place threatened to shove a wand up your rectum. Maybe Trevor needed some time to reconcile with that. Alucard, for his part, was so wrapped up in thought wondering about the MRI technician's comment from earlier and his own concerns about the inky substance on the Hunter's flesh, he'd hardly noticed that seated on the bench next to him was a smiling Julius Belmont.
It was Julius's snorting laughter at the sight of Trevor emerging from the washroom that startled the Dhampyre back into the present. “Oh wow, Gramps, look at your face. Today has really sucked for you so far, huh?”
“Julius, what are you doing in the research wing?” Alucard queried in as neutral a tone as he could manage, given his startled state and internal worries. “Not exactly your usual haunt.”
“I am here for research, Ambassador.” Julius replied noting his attempt at an official tone and switching gears to match. “With all the biological tests completed, my boss was hopeful that Trevor Christopher Belmont would be agreeable to just a few more, but of the combat variety.”
“We came here in good faith unarmed, I am afraid.”
In reply Julius opened up his ever-present leather duster wide and all the weapons he had on his person for Trevor to pick and choose from. “The Belmont Clan has had a preference for the tried and true, and we all train with the same types of weapons as our ancestors did.” The elder hunter explained. “There's nothing on me that my great grandfather could not wield with expertise.” Now turning his attention towards Trevor, Julius lifted a hand in open invitation. “So what do you say, Trevor? Would you like to work out some of your frustration from this afternoon by busting up some combat drones?”
For the first time since they arrived on the Church's doorstop, Trevor smiled. How could Alucard say no after seeing his spirits lifted just so? They followed Julius' lead through the labs and up another set of stairs to the barracks for the Investigational Agents and their adjacent training grounds, explaining to Trevor what a combat drone was, and stressing that it was an electronic and mechanical construct that he had full permission to tear to shreds as he saw fit. Before they could begin the fun stuff however, there was a matter of running another little test.
Julius and Trevor were sat in a small room with various types of cameras and a few witnesses to verify if the Vampyre Killer would respond to the being claiming to be the original Trevor Belmont the same way it reacted to the current owner. For the control, Julius laid the whip out where all the different frequency capturing tools could record, before he reached out once again. The Vampyre Killer illuminated the darkened room in a wonderful light show at the elder man's touch, falling dormant the moment he removed his hand. Now it was time for Trevor to prove his birthright, which he did without hesitation. To the murmured surprise of all the witnesses, the whip shimmered brilliantly in a dazzling display from the touch of one so much closer in bloodline to Leon Belmont, the man that was the beloved of Sara Trantoul, whose essence resided within the holy weapon. Saint Sara, as the Belmont's referred to her, both recognized and approved of Trevor Belmont.
With that matter undeniably concluded, Julius again held his arms wide open and offered Trevor any and everything he had on his person for the Hunter to take with him into the combat room. Trevor went with the usual, removing the criss-cross harness that held throwing knives and shorter daggers, Julius' supply of Belmont alchemical holy water bombs, and of course, he took the Vampyre Killer in with him. The only thing he'd left was that snazzy gold coat he was so fond of. Must have wanted to keep it pristine, Alucard supposed.
“Kid sure has nice moves.” Julius complimented as they watched Trevor decimate the small army of land and air based drones, stepping lightly between lasers, projectiles, rubber bullets and melee strikes. Unlike Julius go for the kill instinct, Trevor tended to use the Vampyre Killer more as a means of keeping his foes at bay while he assessed how best to close in and strike hard, if that was what was the necessary course of action was at all. Where Julius was all overwhelming offence once a fight broke out, Trevor had an air of caution rooted in benevolence. His prey always given the chance to reconsider their actions. Not that that meant when he did see an opening against a confirmed threat he was any less deadly and precise. “He's smart too... Look. I think he's figured out where their battery sources are housed, even if I am not even sure he knows what a battery is.”
Beside the ongoing commentary track were a few observers furiously scratching notes as the motions sensors and cameras captured the carnage inside. True to Julius' assessment, Trevor had seemed to take note of the power source housed behind the back plates of the melee drones and switched up from destroying their limbs to render them harmless to simply outright dodging around them in order to pluck the miniature power generators out with his claws. Julius whistled as Trevor rebounded off a wall to leap a rather shocking distance up into the air, crushing the last of the flying combat drones as he and it landed. Alucard might have whistled too if he wasn't playing the aloof Demon Ambassador at the moment. He wasn't so sure he had ever seen Trevor leap that high before. Had the Hunter been practising while he was recovering? He should ask about that later... While mentioning how attractive it was. Goddamn was watching the man he loved work hot hot hot.
In the end Trevor had given the researchers a little sampling of everything he had. He'd used every type of borrowed weapon at least once, had kept his approach varied and adaptive to his opponents programming, and had even showed off a little at then end there. He returned Julius' arsenal with another brief smile shared between the two Belmont hunters. Like a non-verbal acknowledgement to keep up the family's impressive reputation.
“That was the best test, right?” Julius joked a little as he re-distributed his returned goods. Once he was all put back together in quick order, his tone grew more serious as he continued, pointing to an immaculately dressed older woman who had just slipped into the observation lounge unannounced sometime between Trevor stepping into and exiting the combat test room. “This is Giustina Belnades.”
“Señora Belnades, I apologize I did not recognize you.” Alucard dipped his head respectfully towards the tall blonde woman. Like both her daughters, the High Priestess of the Belnades Coven had an ethereal beauty with light features. It was rude of him to have not realized who was nearly shoulder to shoulder with him during the test.
“It was a captivating show of force, so I do not blame your attention being drawn elsewhere. You look well, Ambassador. I read this morning in the papers that you've been recovering from injury, so I am pleased to see you up and about.”
That would be fucking Seshat Publications, I guess. Alucard smiled tightly and raised a hand in deflection. “You can't believe everything you read these days. There is a lot to exaggerate.”
Giustina was gracious enough to let it slide, true class act that she was, and excused herself around Julius to look Trevor in the eye. Her pale blue irises, almost white in most lighting, twinkled with interest in the subject now before her.
“Yoko.” Trevor whispered almost unconsciously while meeting the older woman's gaze just as intently.
Giustina smiled warmly just then, a not so common practice for the High Priestess and ultimate Arcane authority on the Church's payroll. “My youngest daughter. I am told she resembles me quite a bit.” Finished sharing, the smile vanished but the interest only deepened. “It's come to recent light that my immediate bloodline shares a common ancestor with Julius Belmont. That ancestor is apparently you, Trevor Christopher Belmont. Our family records have been incomplete for a long time as our Great Mother Sypha's children decided to omit their birth father for safety concerns at the time. I do not blame them for the decision. Claiming to be of Belmont descent back in the sixteenth century was probably suicide. It is wonderful to have a forgotten bit of history returned to us, so I thank you for both giving us more insight into our lineage as well as rescuing our Matron's place from history's scrapheap.”
“Giustina is here to give you a once over with her magick. That's all right with you, Trevor?” Julius asked outright without mincing his words. “Check your aura or whatever. Yoko did the same, but Giustina is truly the best of the best in these kinds of matters.”
“You have always displayed an impressive cognizance for dangerous enchantments and curses but not much beyond that, Julius Belmont.” The High Priestess sighed a little, but she was neither annoyed or disappointed in the elder hunter's lack of knowledge in the witch and wizardry business. “However this is not the case, I see, with you, Trevor Belmont. It's quite clear you are an entirely different story. You've got a good base and some obvious potential just at a cursory glance. May I begin my examination?”
Trevor was quick to nod and Alucard could see the widening fissure in his aura split open as if to accept hers as he did so easily with Joachim's. Human Arcanists were not familiar with that custom or method of knowing one another, however, as it was a melding of aura's unique to demons, and of those primarily Desire demons, so Giustina merely carried on her exam externally of him. In that exact moment, Alucard was a little more grateful than he was suspicious that the Vampyre had been a no-show for this visit. Joachim would have had a fit by how recklessly Trevor had tried to give the woman a peak under his skirt, whether realizing or not how intimate an act it was to bare yourself in that fashion. Making note to bring that faux-pas up privately later, Alucard instead returned his focus to what Giustina was pursing her lips over. There was something around Trevor's skull that drew her repeated attention with numerous sweeps, until finally the woman began to circle the Hunter, stopping when she stood directly behind him,
“May I touch you, Mister Belmont? I would like to check something a bit closer.” When Trevor nodded again, Giustina stepped in close and tipped his head forward so that she could peer at something on the back of his neck... Or... No. Something that was obscured by Trevor's hairline. Alucard also stepped around to get a better view of a scab of some sort barely visible at the base in Trevor's chestnut locks. “Are you aware you have a spell seal on you?” Giustina inquired, passing her ice-coloured eyes over Trevor before climbing to meet Alucard's when Trevor clearly looked puzzled by her question. “Ambassador, were you aware?”
A spell seal? Alucard took a step closer to reach out and thread his fingers between his tense lover's strands over the boxy red symbol found there – not a scab after all – and pursed his own lips thoughtfully. It felt no different to touch, and there was nothing to it he could sense, so combined with the fact Trevor wore his hair down day to day, there had never been a chance to spot the curious symbol in passing. “Honestly, Señora Belnades, I am not familiar with the term. My powers are derived largely from a different source than your Clan's. Your enlightening expertise would be most welcome about this discovery.”
“I am afraid you will have to be disappointed in my usual services, Ambassador. The complete knowledge of spell seals is something that has been lost to time, given it was one of those difficult and highly volatile arts.”
“Is he in danger with this seal on him?”
“That is the million dollar question now, isn't it?” Giustina mused. “I would need an extended time to study the nature of this seal. The practice done in ancient times was to put the spell into something organic that could be carried and broken with ease. From accounts I have read, clay discs were the preferred medium to store sealed spells. Nowhere have I read of a spell seal placed on a living body, or even a referral to that being possible. The volatility of raw essence primed for a catalyst made the art rare even in it's heyday, and those capable of completing a disc were usually the only ones who could activate them without catastrophic consequences. This energy resists my aura's probes. It is cohabiting but not intermixing with Mister Belmont's own, as if his and the aura of who placed this on him were highly compatible.”
“Please elaborate, Señora. What do you mean when you say compatible?”
“While it is resisting me, I am picking up bits and pieces that the original architect of this spell-craft left behind.” Giustina picked her way back around Trevor to catch his attention and raised a single eyebrow. “Do you know who placed this seal upon you, Mister Belmont? It was someone related to you, I feel, and strongly that this relation is by blood.”
Alucard hummed to himself as Trevor's softening expression returned to stone instantly. He gave no reply to Giustina's question nor did he even seem to be looking at anyone in the room. After a moment, it was apparent he wasn't going to give any response at all. It would be up to the Dhampyre to move the conversation along.
“All of Trevor's immediate blood relations have passed on long ago. Is it possible this seal has been there for such a long time?”
“Well...” Giustina tipped her head up as she contemplated. “I would need more time to study this, and preferably back on our Coven's grounds where I have access to more resources. I will say that this seal is not new, Ambassador. It has been in place for some time, and by that I means, years, given how ingrained it is. Would you consent to allowing me a chance to study this symbol placed upon your body in more depth, Mister Belmont? I can have our office reach out to the Ambassador's to arrange this at a later date.” Trevor remained stony and silent, so after some time Giustina conceded and left the offer open. “I will have my secretary reach out with the pertinent details later and leave it in your hands to issue a response, either way. I do hope you would accept, as I hate to leave a mystery unsolved.”
“Thank you for taking your time to help us assess him, Giustina.” Julius gave a slight respectful bow of his head in her direction, which gave the woman a slight chuckle.
“I would have insisted even if Madame Director Levin had not asked it of me personally.” The High Priestess of the Belnades Coven revealed with a wide smile. She turned her lovely flash of teeth towards the researches who had recorded both the combat trial and now this Arcane assessment, and continued in a cool calculated tone devoid of any friendliness. She rattled off her findings rapid-fire and precise. It was strictly business with Giustina Belnades now. “As far as Arcane abilities, the subject presents as male dominant but shows an intrinsic affinity for the more feminine talents due in part to some innate nature that requires further examination. Extremely rare, but not entirely unheard of. My first impression was that the aura observed today was wild, untapped, and ancient, far beyond the speculated twenty to thirty age range I was given in the original file this morning. The subject displays an overt natural resistance, evidently unconscious, to an outsider's study. This propensity is likely an inherent defence, and I would speculate it is shared by the subject's lineage. The subject is in possession of, or inflicted by, an anomalous source that requires more research and testing. At a glance, this anomaly presents as a spell seal, which is a purported lost craft. Seal, if that is what it is, also shows signs of age. Further review is requested and required to complete the analysis.”
Wow... Okay. Alucard fought back the urge to reach out and touch the brunette standing stoic and still as the mysteries continued to pile on top of him. Fought the urge to provide some modicum of comfort in the uncomfortable air of the observation deck, while also seeking out his own. So far the Dhampyre had his own questions about the odd comment made by the MRI technician, the obsessive fixation on wanting an internal ultrasound, and now this odd and possible deadly brand that had been placed upon his promised Prințesă's person of unknown age and origin. Not to mention the fact that Giustina's comment about Trevor's inherent and immature Arcane abilities had also called into question what Trevor appeared or 'presented' to be, to borrow her turn of phrase. Oh, and the black tattoo. Let's not forget that one.
“Ambassador, I am aware this is short notice, but please. I hope you will accept.” Giustina handed over a small embossed envelope with her own respectful dip of the head, before reaching out to hand an identical one over to Julius. “The Belnades Yule celebration is open to our Clan members and their extended family. We would be incredibly honoured if our newly discovered branch could join us for this yearly event. Your presence would mean the world to my youngest daughter.”
“Señora.” Alucard nodded and pocketed the invite to peruse on the ride back. Business concluded, the Authority on all matters Arcane in nature took her leave in as unceremonious a fashion as she had arrived. Talent like hers required no pomp and circumstance.
“Well the boys here have a lot of data to compile and reports to write, and the lab is still hard at work on your test samples... So would you be open to grabbing some food with me while we wait, Gramps?”
Trevor watched the researchers politely excuse themselves to work, waiting patiently for them to leave the room before he spoke so lowly, not even the audio of the obvious camera pointed at them from the closest corner of the room would pick up his voice. “Is our Bestiary housed in this facility?”
The query came out of left field but Julius rolled with it, nodding. “Of course. You want to see it?”
Which was how Alucard found himself climbing another set of stairs and following Julius down a hallway he had not crossed since it's construction towards the Church HQ vaults. The guards on duty were more than leery about letting Julius bring two unauthorized individuals inside even with the celebrated and world renown Vampyre hunter as their chaperone, but a brief call to Missy securing the green-light from Eliza herself rendered their apprehensions a moot point. The Dhampyre needed to pry himself away from the marvels housed inside he could only glimpse at and made a mental note to request access to view these forgotten and secreted treasures at a later time, as Trevor's singular focus was on locating the Belmont Family Bestiary, and he gave Alucard no time to dawdle at his own piqued interests. Julius lead them down the shortest pathway to their destination, pulling the Bestiary out from under a covered glass protector and lay it on the nearest table for Trevor to go wild.
The Hunter sat down before his assumed lost heirloom and ran his hand over the cover, tracing nicks and bends in the cover both familiar and made long after his time. “I'm happy you're safe, old friend.” Trevor whispered to the book, uncaring of the humour Julius found in the action. Well, until Julius realized Trevor had stolen one of his throwing knives and was using it to pop the binding threads of the sacred Belmont compendium.
“What the hell!?” Julius cried out, reaching to halt the carnage far too late to stop any of it. The book's housing was demolished, splayed open and entries loose.
Trevor handed the pale elder man back his knife, nonplussed about the whole affair, and got to work swinging his bag around to pull out paste and a frighteningly thick needle and sturdy thread. He laid these out on the table before digging back in to pull out reefs of papers covered in his flowing hand, complete with drawings. On a handful of pages were what Alucard recognized as the broodmother of those ogre-like demons they has fought in the Sea of Trees. Trevor had completed the entry on that, adding observations made about the offspring and the internal workings of the beasts. He seemed to be working backwards through the book starting with the most recent, adding his additions and binding them in with the ancient texts already present. As he worked Julius calmed down enough to comprehend Trevor was simply completing the unspoken Belmont duty to catalogue their findings for future generations, and even chased off the handful of archivists who had been drawn by the earlier commotion and were now about to throw-up over this random stranger coming in to molest one of the priceless treasures housed within the vault.
“You've been busy, I see.” Julius, now completely at ease, pulled up a chair beside Trevor to look over the fastidious work on display.
“There is not too much I know how to do in this modern age, but I can still be of use in this capacity.” Trevor explained as his hands continued to sew. “Out of everything expected of me growing up, whether hunting for food or devils, protecting my land, marrying and securing an heir, playing the social games of the Parisian court, and then being sent on a death march towards Dracula's Castle... Gathering and categorizing knowledge about all the different lifeforms out in the world was my favourite. Doing this research was the only commitment of mine that did not feel imposed. I never cared for slaying demons, in spite of the fact that I am extremely capable of doing so. This is what I wanted to do, if given the choice in the matter.”
Julius leaned back and unlatched the Vampyre Killer from his belt to lay out alongside Trevor's controlled chaos of book binding. “So was this always a burden to you?” He asked, gesturing to the most well-known of the Belmont birthrights.
“Always.” Trevor confirmed without hesitation. “I never once forgot the weight of that whip at my side, and what it would mean once I had to hand that weight over to one of my sons. The Bestiary, however, felt light as a feather.” The Hunter, whose title was professedly unwanted, paused mid-stitch to give Julius his full attention, smiling for his distant grandson in such a fond paternal fashion. “Do not misunderstand. Just because I am not a killer, only a man who is proficient at killing, does not mean I am begrudging your acceptance of our Legacy. The world needs heroes too, Julius, and I think you fit that role remarkably.”
“I don't know... You seem pretty heroic to me the more I am in your company, Gramps.”
“Begrudgingly.” Trevor joked with a soft laugh. “I have been promised a quiet life in a mountain village. That's what I am looking forward to. I'm going to learn how to bake bread and practice housekeeping. I hope in the near future you'll find me fashioning a wooden porch swing over alchemy bombs. In turn, you may keep these pieces of our history and pass them down as you see fit. I trust your judgment of who the next heir to our Legacy should be.”
“I have zero recollection of my parents...” Julius murmured to himself as he sat in subdued silence beside his ancestor.
“Then I will tell you that I love you and I am proud of you in their stead. Hopefully your great-grandfather's approval counts for something.”
“Oh, I am very sure three bottles of wine later tonight I am going to have one of those ugly man cries over this conversation.”
“Call your girlfriend when you do. It's all right to be vulnerable with the ones you love. That's why we love them.” Trevor cast a glance up at Alucard and gave him the same fond smile he'd been blessing Julius with. Only briefly, as they were supposed to be coming off as platonically acquainted at best, but Alucard savoured the warm gush in his veins all the same. “There's never a reason to cry alone, Julius.”
“My girlfriend is gearing up to rake you and Ambassador Țepeș over the coals if it means getting to the bottom of this mess with the Coven, your sudden existence, amongst other things.”
“If you love her, then I am not concerned about her intentions. I said I trust your judgment, Julius.” Trevor replied succinctly. “We would all only benefit from more facts verified and truths uncovered.”
“Is that the creep?” Julius blurt out suddenly, leaning in to get a better look at the pages Trevor was binding into the front of the Bestiary. It was the oldest section that had been penned by Leon Belmont himself, The first of their line to pick up the Vampyre Killer with the intent to slay Dracula. “Sorry, old habits die hard and he was a creeper for decades.”
“Demon's are multifaceted, just as humans, I've come to learn. Their young pick on one another as ours do, and they are equally a slave to their public image as we are. Allowing for a more broad acceptance of what is consider a good public image, of course. Their criteria deviates quite a bit from polite human society, but I have found that aspect of their social workings the most refreshing. Even in their various hierarchy there are individual demons whose idiosyncrasies go against the grain. Joachim in particular has an honest nature foreign to the usual duplicitous Vampyres, and uncommon even in Desire demons as a whole. Demon Ambassador Țepeș is the same way. More often than not, when he speaks, his intentions are clear.”
“That's a lot of pages you're adding on the honest Vampyre.”
“Yes... He was very open to sharing his knowledge with me. I thought it prudent to ensure what I am adding about demon hierarchy and demon marriages fall under his entry, since he was the source of this insight.”
“Did he sit for that portrait?” Alucard asked, the full page sketch of his longtime companion catching his golden gaze. It was true to life, if lacking a spark of energy, as Trevor was very detailed oriented and clinical with his Bestiary sketches to capture exactly what his eyes saw and no more. When Trevor admitted that Joachim had, the Dhampyre could not help muttering under his breath in spite of where they were and the scrutiny they were under. “Don't you think you made him a little too handsome?” Even in graphite, that plush double-lobed lower lip drew the Demon Ambassador's attention in the puzzling way it kept doing since Trevor pointed out the feature's quote unquote attractiveness.
“I was aiming to capture the utmost accuracy in each detail. If you are finding those details overly attractive, Ambassador, you may wish to reflect on what the reason for that may be in a private moment.”
I don't need to reflect on squat. Alucard did managed to keep from openly scoffing. It would have ruined his public image, after all. He's passable handsome, just like a billion other men. Nothing special.
“You done here?” Julius asked as Trevor was completing the final reinforcements of his handiwork and handing the Bestiary back. “All right, let me just put this back and we can get out here. It's been hours already since you've arrived. You must be ready for a break by now.”
“You should take a moment to grab a bite to eat with Julius.” Alucard agreed with the elder hunter. “I expect the discussion with the Director to be lengthy.”
Trevor was almost convinced to comply by the time they existed the vault, but the appearance of Missy making her way down towards the vault put an end to the persuasion. The finely dressed woman's heels being the only sound echoing down the marble until she stopped a few paces away from the small party and bowed lowly in Alucard's direction.
“Madame Director Levin extends her sincerest apologies towards Ambassador Țepeș and our invited guest, Mister Belmont. She has sent me to request if your meeting with her could be delayed to tomorrow. The test results are requiring much more time than originally speculated to verify and finalize, and the report from High Priestess Belnades requires a follow-up. Would that be acceptable? We certainly understand that this delay may complicate matters for you, as well that you've travelled quite far to be here after an extended period away. Your time should be respected. We would prefer to have all the accurate results from the tests, that being said, before we proceed.”
“That is all right, Missy.” It wasn't in the slightest, but Alucard lied convincingly. He could smell how done Trevor was with everyone and everything in this building. Having to come back again tomorrow due to unforeseen circumstance... “I would also prefer to have all the results in, accurate and verified. I am also requesting copies of these results back for my own records.”
“Of course, Ambassador. That was understood prior to your arrival. A complete record will be duplicated for you as it becomes ready.” Missy bowed again. “Our specialists will work around the clock so please feel free to return tomorrow at your leisure. Everything will be ready by tomorrow morning, guaranteed. Shall I escort you back to the entrance now?”
“Please.” Alucard insisted, reaching a hand out to shake Julius'. “Shall we continue tomorrow then, Julius Belmont?”
“I guess so.” The elder hunter sighed. “See you around, Trevor.” Julius followed them as far as the stairwell but then kept on about his business for the day, giving a single wave as he vanished around the next bend.
Trevor, mute once more now that he was in unfamiliar company, followed on Alucard's heels like he was a well trained dog which was not exactly the kind of vibe Alucard wanted to have projected. He was a Demon Ambassador, not a a Demon King, and it wouldn't do any he or demonkind as a whole any favours to have even more people believe he was some kind of sovereign seeking to legitimize his kingdom. He had paid employees, not faithful servants. Still, he wasn't going to criticize Trevor's actions after the last thirty-six hours the poor thing has been through. Whatever worked for Trevor was what he would accept. So that is how they followed Missy out to the opulent ground floor and pushed through the elaborately carved wooden doors, waking up a few distracted waiting reporters and cameramen as they made a beeline for the limo.
Dressed in the same style of black suit that all the Demon Embassy security agents wore, only with a gold armband displaying the shield of Țepeș high on the right sleeve denoting a team lead, was Alucard's until recently MIA Vampyre Master. Joachim opened up the car door for Alucard and Trevor and shut it behind them without a word, climbing in beside the driver as security detail leads were trained to do. That left a bewildered Trevor, glib Erinys, a marginally confused junior security team member, and his own now highly agitated self in the backseat without any kind of explanation.
“Eri, what the hell happened to Joachim?” Alucard asked, after the car door was shut and his stern demand for answers would not be caught by anyone outside the immediate cabin.
“He would not say.” Erinys responded, dry as sandpaper. “But I believe he is quite embarrassed about whatever kept him.” The green-skinned demoness threw out there for Alucard to make what he will of it. “Just my impression.”
*****
December 2037~ Demon Embassy, Ambassador Suite, Wallachia
Shutting the door to the Ambassador suite firmly behind him, Alucard whirled around intent on catching his wayward Vampyre Master. Even if he had to sit on the elder demon to get a straight answer out him, he would fucking do it. Joachim was too swift and overly occupied pulling his 'Little One' around to sit on a bar stool and assailing Trevor with comments about how pale he looked, how he must be hungry, and running off a list of the dishes he could make based on what he was taking stock of in the fridge. The tests hadn't been too arduous on his little Rabbit, had they? No one had touched him in any way he did not agree to? Iron Spikes for Jesus wasn't a outright bitch, was she? The whole time he dodged Alucard's subtle attempts to close in and pin him down in order to take a solid look at the so obviously flustered Vampyre brimming with nervous energy.
It was Trevor – catching on to Alucard's scheme – who sprung forward clasping a hand around each of Joachim's wrists, that managed to capture and detain the rogue Vampyre, leading him around the kitchenette partition and more towards the largest couch in the sitting area. Trevor's grip was steel and for all Joachim's attempt to twist out of his shackles, Trevor Belmont remained undefeated. The Vampyre was forcibly sat down, with visible effort of the Hunter's part, which caused Alucard to lean in and put his unspoken threat to voice.
“I am going to sit on you if that's what it takes to make you sit still and talk to me.”
“Oh my, Kitten.” Joachim's attention switched over from his current captor. “I am not certain how I would feel about that.” He was still trying to get out of Trevor's hold so Alucard sighed and followed through. Although he only straddle one thigh to make good on his threat. He wasn't trying to start anything that could be misconstrued as risqué or amorous, after all. There had been more than enough confusing undercurrents between the trio since Alucard crawled out of his coffin a bloated corpse. “Oh, and here you are anyway. Right on top of me.” Joachim mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze.
“You have been so goddamn weird for days, buddy.” Alucard narrowed his gaze and leaned in to assess the exhausted demon with the wavering aura. It made no sense. He'd fed on Trevor not even two days ago, so how could he be this drained? Even accounting for the massive energy toll moving at near blinding speed in bursts to travel here in the time frame he had, it made no logical sense for the Vampyre to be in his current condition. “What happened to you? Why are you so weak right now?”
“There is still dwindling daylight and I am a full Vampyre. You know how drained we get in the sun. Immunity to that weakness is the one thing your Dhampyric state has over a full blooded Vampyre.”
“You're inside right now but regardless, you're so old and powerful you just lose access to the bulk of your gifts in full sun... Not dwindling sun. Full blazing ball of fire in the sky sun. You're a regular guy with cross-fit muscles in full sun. I would still pity the asshole who picked a fight with you at noon.”
“Thank you for the vote of confidence..?”
“Don't thank me for tearing your excuse to shreds. What's your deal? What happened to you? You hate being tardy.”
“Well...”
Joachim fidgeted and kept glancing up apprehensively at Trevor to the point the Hunter at last released him and took a step back from the couch. “Would you like me to step outside so you can tell Adrian what's going on? I don't mind.”
“Of course not, Little One. Our business is your business now, without question. I am hesitating only because I feel a right fool, is all. I like to believe I am not easily mislead, but that saucy little minx downright tricked me!”
While Trevor still seemed to be processing the information relayed in the tirade, Alucard growled and pushed Joachim back against the couch so that he could capture his full attention. If not Trevor, then there was no other 'minx' that the Vampyre could have been referring to. “Lilû.”
“It came back? It attacked you?” Trevor muscled in to also grab at Joachim's shoulders, nearly toppling Alucard over as he did so. “What could it possibly want with you?”
“Well...” The Vampyre's hesitation was palpable. “I didn't consent, Little One. You made your conditions quite clear and I did commit myself in adherence to them. Gladly so!”
“What are you talking about? What didn't you consent to?”
“Well, I have been taking all sorts of risks I would never of late on account of you two attracting danger left, right and centre, and this foolishness was another one. I don't even know what I was thinking, disregarding my own good sense and advice.”
“Joachim, what did it do you?” Trevor gave the demon a harsh shake, demanding a clear response and an end to his current infuriating waffling.
Alucard for his part felt the pit of his stomach drop out, already dreading what Joachim was about to confess to. There had been only one constant thing the Lilû had on it's mind while he had been Estefania's captive, and that one thing had been denied by Alucard thinking on his feet and his bullshit excuses. Although at the cost he paid in bargaining his way out of that fate...
“It appeared weak to start. That was the first miscalculation. I believed I would be able to make an escape with the creature in such a state. Even the black substance on it's body was vastly diminished. It looked cold and hungry and approached in such a docile manner... Because you knew so little about it and it's relation to the Witch, I wondered if I could perhaps speak with it and gain some more insight tot their schemes. You know, demon to demon. It's a specialty of mine, after all. For a while it sort of worked, I thought. It asked me questions that were all over the map and kept referring to me as the 'prettiest' pretty one.”
I was the Pretty One...Alucard felt his vision closing in, checking his arms for the searing silver that was only a memory. A too-perfect facsimile of his pretty Prințesă, bending him over and taking it's pleasure. A pleasure he allowed because it saved him the pain... If only in exchange for another type, and one he had not realized would have cut so deep. If only he had known this agony and shame would still be with him while the burns were only scars, would he have chosen the silver over the degradation?
“That was when I realized my mistake. The little devil had lured me step by step until I was under it's spell. That shy approach and it's demure mannerisms were just the beginning of it's seduction, and because it looks so much like our Little One, I bloody fell for it. When the trap sprung and those pheromones went on full blast I couldn't break free.”
Oh Joachim... Alucard got off him and sat down on the far end of the furthest chair, wrapping his arms around himself to brace for what he knew was about to be shared. The only solace was that, hopefully, Joachim's professed attitude towards sex – that being freely offered sex was just free sex for demons, and nothing more than a good waste of time – would hold true. The Dhampyre wished earnestly that his old friend would not feel the way he did recalling how he traded his dignity away down on that-- Stop. Enough. The flashes of his ordeal on the lake-bed floor would not stop coming, however much he tried to shut them out. It had never just been freely offered sex for him, even when he'd tried to convince himself he'd had agency in the action.
Alucard had felt nothing but desperation and humiliation.
Worse still was knowing to the Lilû, what had happened between them meant nothing at all. There was no significance, and no suffering. It wasn't capable of understanding the complexity of why he'd surrendered to it time and time again. To the progenitor of Desire demons, he had simply been a willing 'pretty' partner to pass some time with.
“What did it... Do? With those pheromones..?” Trevor asked in a low tremulous voice, almost afraid to be told the truth. From the Hunter's pained look, it seemed he too suspected what Joachim was about to divulge.
“I did not have a say in the matter, just so we're clear.” The Vampyre stressed, looking towards the Hunter with anxious eyes. “Little One... You understand I did not consent, right?”
“...Are you hurt?” Trevor asked instead in such a broken delicate voice.
The fragility of the Hunter's whole demeanour caused the Vampyre to respond accordingly, reaching out to take the Hunter's hands and pulling him down to sit on the couch beside the demon. Were it not for Alucard's own traumatic experience, he may have found a part of the ongoing exchange blackly comedic. The one violated trying to comfort the one who only had to hear about the violation. “No, pretty Rabbit, I am not injured. I discovered that Lilû is not only the Grandfather of all Desire Demons, but also the Grandmother. It possesses both the reproductive organs you could desire, and in this instance, it claimed that it wanted a baby. So it...” Joachim struggled to find a way to describe what had occurred politely, but there was nothing polite about rape. Whether the victim would agree to the reality that they had been raped or not. “There is no reason to mince words; we are three adults men. It wanted a child and hopped on my paralyzed body to achieve that end enough times that I believe I should have stopped on my flight over here to buy some diapers for it.” The Vampyre finished with a huff. “Demons like that generally don't need to chance these things when they desire. So the probability that demon is pregnant is quite high.”
“Joachim...” Trevor was speechless.
Alucard felt his own stomach lurch.
“I did not ask for that kind of attention, Little One. Honest. I took our conversation to heart.”
“I don't...That's not...” The Hunter surged forward to throw his arms around the elder demon's neck. “You idiot, why would I blame you for being... Assaulted?”
“But you said...”
“You moron!” Trevor cried out just as he latched on tighter. “How are you just sitting there telling us about how that thing raped you as if it was just a harmless prank?”
“Well... Little Rabbit, you are aware that sex for Desire demons in particular is really not such a big deal.” Joachim tried to explain soothingly. “The only qualms I have about what happened is that I kept thinking about your conditions for me, and how what was happening did not align with your expectations of my behaviour.”
“You didn't do anything wrong...” The Hunter, now sounding as emotional externally as Alucard felt internally, choked out. “Should I be glad you're not upset about it? I suppose this is better than the alternative... But I... I am so angry for you.”
“Save your anger, Bunny, there's nothing to be enraged about. Lilû and I are both full blooded Desire demons. This sort of liaison is commonplace. I feel nothing about what happened, and even less so about the Lilû itself.”
“...What if it really is pregnant?” Trevor mumbled into the Vampyre's black coat collar. “What if it has your baby, then what?”
“Then what?” The elder demon shrugged. “It's probably also a terrible parent. Those highly fertile demons tend to use the broad and numerous approach. Sire or birth a hundred kids and leave them to their own devices. Maybe one or two will survive, as opposed to spending the time and energy to raise any of them. Ensuring only the most fit and worthy survive to pass on it's genes. It will likely drop that spawn off somewhere and wish it the best of luck.”
“...That's not acceptable.”
“It's not like I'm going to be allotted the opportunity to sit down with the Lilû and discuss shared custody and who gets the baby every other weekend, Trevor.” The Vampyre joked. “That being said, maybe it will find me and drop the child off once it's born? Changelings are in that habit, amongst other demons.”
“That's not acceptable, this 'maybe' and 'who knows' attitude.” The Hunter's muttering grew more clear. “If that monster has your child, then that is our baby. We need to take it back.”
“Our baby, you say.” Joachim almost laughed. “I am fairly certain there were only two demons in that tango.”
“We are family now.” Trevor insisted. “That's our baby, if there is any baby to speak of... And I want my baby.”
“Uhh... Duly noted, Bunny. If there's a foundling on our porch come the spring, I'll make sure to let you know.”
“I hope you do... Are you sure you're okay? I just...”
“I am perfectly fine. Just embarrassed by how easily it swayed me. It must be because it wears your face, Little One. You are enchanting to behold.”
“Now you sound like Adrian...” Trevor mumbled, pulling away to wrap himself up in a ball back in the space between them. As he made the comment he cast a glance in Alucard's direction, pausing once he got a good look at the expression the Dhampyre could not keep off his face. “Hey... Are you okay, Adrian? You look like you're going to be sick.”
Trevor's observation was on the mark. He looked that way because that's exactly what he was moments away from doing. The pair of concerned voices trailing after him hardly registered as he made his way to the powder room and heaved water, wine, and the pink residue of strawberries. For a creature whom hardly consumed food, having it come up the opposite way was even more distressing, which only made him heave more until not even bile would come up. In the back of his mind he was lost on the lake floor, vomiting up acid water due to the loss of his protective charm. Everything burned and ached. Breathing hurt. He'd hardly realized Trevor was at his side, placing a cool towel on the back of his neck. The sensation helped to calm his upset, as did the glass of ice cold water Joachim handed over help to ground him.
“Adrian...”
The Dhampyre looked up at Joachim first, seeing nothing but encouragement in those silver eyes. They were here to support him, if he'd only allow them the opportunity. A moment later to steel himself, Alucard placed a trembling hand against the side of Trevor's face, and decided it was now time to face the music. They had put it off long enough, and being vulnerable with your loved ones was all right. It was why you loved them.
“Trevor... We need to have that conversation now.”
“All right, Adrian...” Trevor agreed, stroking his hair. “All right.”
Notes:
Fear not. There is no Mpreg tag on this fic. Let's make that very clear.
Not to say intersexed beings can't have baby bumps, but that's an entirely different issue. This two-parter is now a three-parter because of pacing. Hopefully I haven't lost some of you with the Mpreg scare. It's really not happening, I swear. There will be hijinks though.
Chapter 52: Interlude
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Demon Embassy, Ambassador Suite, Wallachia
The utterly gutted, bereft expression on Trevor's crumbling visage, kneeling down before him with Alucard's own hands clasped tightly in his own was too difficult to focus upon any longer. It was as if all the internalized shame, humiliation, impotent rage and overwhelming despair of defeat had drained out via the words slipping out of his lips only to be absorbed by the empathetic and tenderhearted creature before him. Now while he felt numb and void, Trevor was the one devastated, clearly in a state of near shock at the detailed description of the Dhampyre's forcible detention, outright torture and violation. Perhaps the long suffering thing was even reliving his own traumas at being trapped in darkness, wounded and alone for days upon days on end because of Alucard's horrible revelation.
The Dhampyre wished sparing Trevor from the trigger of his own captivity and abuse had been the noble reason he'd been reticent to share the truth of his suffering, but it was not. He was not that noble a demon. The truth was that he was horribly ashamed by what had been done to him by force, and even more so by what he had compromised his integrity for, a brief respite here and there... Only to go ahead and lose everything, integrity, dignity and more to the damned Witch in the end. He'd lost things he'd foolishly, selfishly thought he could protect that did not belong to him alone, and now it was only a matter of time before the Veil thinned and that vile woman had her chance... The key now in her grasp. Was it some small solace that he'd had no more tears to shed recounting it? There was only that constant bitter taste in his mouth to remind him he'd had any type of reaction at all earlier, as all he could feel now was emptiness.
To his side on the couch sat the very same demon he had attacked days prior for attempting to lift the curtain on this trauma. The very demon – his longstanding companion in a world where companions were worth more than their weight in gold – who had gotten the impression of his terrible ordeal and the accompanying pain and shame without the details. His Moroi Master who could not comfort him so had instead allowed him to vent his aimless all-consuming rage about how powerless he'd felt, offering a body he could do violence against that staunchly refused to raise a hand in it's own defence. All with the intent that when Alucard was sitting before Trevor Belmont just like now, recounting his failures in precise explicit detail, Trevor was spared his temper. After all, thanks to Joachim, he'd already had his tantrum.
One of his hands wriggled free of Trevor's hold in order to seek out the Vampyre's own. In the numb fog of defeat he hoped sincerely that his abashed apology was being read loud and clear. As if to assuage him of his guilt, Joachim placed his other hand on Alucard's shoulder. Message received, both ways.
“So that is what I am going to confess to the Iron Maiden tomorrow. That I have lost the stones to a woman hellbent on seizing the Castle and have no way of tracking them. Essentially, I am the reason that Chaos may soon reign supreme in our world. My hubris has wasted Julius' sacrifice and even my fath – er – Soma's trials were in vain. All because of my... My failure...”
“No, Adrian.” Trevor climbed to his feet and pulled Alucard into an embrace he did not deserve, but still selfishly welcomed for comfort. “You kept them safe for almost forty years. Forty years of peace that you almost died to protect and maintain. It is not your fault the power in those blasted artifacts forever will attract the darkest desires of others. They are forged of a power primed to corrupt the weak of heart and feeble of mind... They are a corruption that you never succumbed to the entire time they were in your possession. Inside your body, even. Do you realize the significance of that feat? You are the only being that has ever had the Castle at their potential beck and call and you never once fell under it's influence in all that time. That's proof enough that they were safest with you.”
“I still lost the keystones in the end. My incorruptibility did nothing to help there.” The Dhampyre pulled away from both the people who were trying to keep him held together, closing his arms tightly around his frame to ward off their sweet but useless kindness. “I failed to keep my father's sins contained and have doomed that happy life I promised you all those years ago before you even had a chance to start it. We're all just living on borrowed time now... The Veil will thin. It always does.”
“No, Adrian.” Trevor insisted, reaching back out to pull him close once more, gripping the sides of his face in such a way he could not twist out of the grasp until he lost the strength to even try, instead sitting limply while Trevor stroked him almost reverently. “Not at all. The fight's not lost yet.” It was useless to try and escape the loving, forgiving words, but he tried. Trevor refused him. “You are amazing, Adrian, and do not look away from me while I am telling you this, please.” The Hunter begged when he'd attempted to shift his eyes from that warm gentle expression before him. “While I was imprisoned in that damp dark cave, I remember weeping all the time. I trembled with fear every moment I can recall. In spite of the fact that I had a family to return to, to look after, I wished so many times that I would have just died if it meant the agony would end... I gave up, Adrian.” The hands on the sides of his face were squeezing, but Trevor did not seem to realize the force he was putting into his touch, lost as the man was in his own nightmare at the moment. “I did not fight back, nor did I try to escape. Instead, I gave up like a coward and wished for an easy out. The only reasons I am standing here right now before you are due to chance and circumstance, and maybe a heap of blind luck. I never escaped under my own power, but you did. Everything you did down there was in service of ensuring that you'd come back to me, to our family, and that you could fight again. I've never been more proud to be loved by someone like you. You're incredible, enduring all that. You never gave in.”
That... Those words being directed at him and the sentiments contained within he instinctively knew he should refute, wholly undeserved as they were. Yet somehow, such earnest praise coming from Trevor Belmont, and spoken so emotionally every word seemed to have pulled all the breath out of his beautiful Hunter... Something about it broke Alucard. Those absent tears found their way home as he began to openly sob in the arms of his precious, perfectly supportive Prințesă, even leaning into the side of his ever watchful Vampyre companion, drawing on that sense of comfort and safety any Desire demon would find from the presence of their hierarchical Master.
“We've got you, my Little One.” Joachim's liquid silver voice soothed the raw wounds. “You found your way back to us all on your own, and now we will figure this out together. You did all that you could at the time.”
Soothed and coddled as he now was, whether deserving or not, Alucard felt himself fall back into that subdued numb fog. A protective state of mind in order to cope with what still needed to be done, so that he could focus on the larger problem at hand. His own shame and blame needed to be shelved for the time being. Joachim was right, after all. Frustrating as it could be at times, he almost always was. “The fight's not lost yet, huh.” Ragged and raw, his exhale of a laugh sounded foreign. “You sure do sound pretty sure about that, Trevor.”
“Yeah... Call it a hunch.” Trevor replied hesitantly, pulling back from him far enough to look him over and seek out his eyes. Whatever he was working up the courage to say was a visible struggle. “The problem is that now knowing what they did to you... You're not going to like what I have to say.”
The Hunter pulled him in for a final quick squeeze before he stepped back, as if he was apologizing ahead of time for what he was about to divulge. Alucard had squeezed him back just as tightly in encouragement. What could Trevor truly say to him that Alucard may not be able to accept? Aside from 'Let's break up' or 'I never want to see you again', there was really nothing that came to mind that Alucard could think of that would send him running for the hills.
“Just tell me, Trevor. Whatever it is, this is what we agreed to. You and I against the world, right?”
“Th-that's right... And it's not changed no matter what I am about to say, all right? I just need to... No. We just need to sort through my hazy memories and settle on the facts.”
That conviction expounded, Trevor still fell silent soon thereafter, unsure how to start. Only when Alucard twisted his hand out for the reciprocal silent I Love You did the Hunter spring into action, returning the gesture and standing up straight before both the Moroi before him. Inhaling deeply, he rolled up his sleeves to display the repeated scars running the lengths of his forearms. These he self-consciously held out for inspection by both Alucard and Joachim, only the second time in Alucard's memory that Trevor had let anyone but himself have a clear look at the marks he was ashamed of.
“I believe you when you tell me that you found my unconscious body upon the High Priestess' alter back in Japan. There is no reason I can discern for you, Yoko, and Julius to deceive me... So please understand how incredibly frustrating it is for me not to be able to recall why I was there to begin with.”
“You were a sacrifice. The Witch even refused to say your name while I was in captivity. The whole coven all called you 'The Sacrifice', and you had been used for blood rituals for who knows how long. You had almost no blood left in your body when I found you.”
“That must be true except...” Trevor paused, rubbing his scars as he frowned. “Esteffi did not give me these scars.”
Esteffi? Alucard froze in place. Why was Trevor calling the High Priestess Estefania by the cutesy name her lackeys did? Had Alucard ever let slip the nickname?
“My memory is so frustratingly spotty, with these huge gaps where there's just nothing... But when I saw her down in the cave when we came to help rescue you, my heart just...”
Why is that hellbound murderous cunt Esteffi to you, Trevor?
“For a moment I was happy to see her. You were broken and beaten and... dying in my arms, Adrian, yet for that brief moment when I saw her after so long I felt happy to be with her again. Esteffi was the one who saved me from the person who kept me locked up and drained my blood night after night. She took me away from him, Adrian, and she and Arden kept me safe.” The Hunter was beginning to breathe rapidly, his anxiousness and confusion such a thick cloud, the scent of his troubles nearly choked the Moroi pair. “My saviour... Yet she was the one who did this to you. I wish I did not have the gaps in my memory so that I could understand why Esteffi and Arden would risk themselves to save my life but nearly succeed in stealing yours.”
She saved him..?
Shaking hands climbing to touch the back of his head, Trevor closed his eyes tightly and fought hard to gain control of his breathing. He was near hyperventilating by this point. “She gave this to me; the seal.” Blue-grey eyes popped open, misty and yearning. “I think I agreed to have this done to me, Adrian, and I believe that is the reason why she thought I would come back to her while she waited for me in that cave... Because I believe there was a time where I loved her. Adrian.” Trevor's voice was tremulous, wavering as his body did, on the brink of being overcome by his confession, yet his gaze never faltered, never flinched from Adrian's even when the Dhampyre knew his gold had long turned to crimson. “That is why I needed to know what she did to you... How she almost murdered you. Because when I saw her after waking up in your arms for the first time since I bid you farewell in the forests outside Wallachia, I felt like I was reuniting with a loved one.”
Trevor... Loved her?
“How could I love a woman like that..? Someone who could... Who did... Why did she bother saving me back then, if this is the kind of person she is?”
Alucard sat with the confession, a dark and ugly rumbling churning in his guts, ready for eruption. When Trevor took a step forward plaintively he reeled back from the partially outstretched hand, drawing unconsciously towards Joachim, as his mind, dulled by his own pain and suffering, struggled to fully comprehend exactly what Trevor was trying to say to him, let alone accept it. The Hunter seemed hurt but resigned to wordlessly watch Alucard pull away from his reach, seeking the sheltered security from his Vampyre Master, as was the nature of a wounded, frightened subservient demon. To cower under one's Master's protection, even if what needed shielding was a torn, bleeding heart.
“Kitten, our little Bunny shares this with us honestly so that we may parse through the information, pool our knowledge, and perhaps solve this riddle.” Joachim spoke softly, but there was a clear stern warning in his words. One wrong step or thoughtless word in this conversation would likely do irreparable damage to the bonds shared amongst them all. “There is no benefit in anyone lashing out, as there is no target in the room deserving of it.”
“...I am aware...”
“You're shaking, my Little One, and you reek of the stench of rage.” The Vampyre nearly whispered, his voice was so low and measured. “There are already several plausible explanations for Bunny's confusing emotions. The Witch has a familiar that is a Desire Demon without peer. You mentioned yourself that the Force of Will she exuded on her own had an affect on you. It's not out of the question that his gratitude towards a saviour would lead him to fall under her Will, Belmont or not. They succumb only when they allow it. If she was a saviour in his eyes, what reason would he have to not be charmed by her? Please stay... Rational.”
“...I am sorry what I can remember is not what you want to hear. After the torture and violation...”
“It is helpful, Pretty Rabbit, I am certain. We just need to take a moment to regain our composure so we will see clearly where to place this puzzle piece. Knowing that your torment was not at her hands goes a long way already in explaining your involvement with her. You were her ward for some time, and she gained enough of your trust for you to offer to aid her in some fashion. You must have had a good reason, and I am certain a bedevilled enchantress would have promised you something you desired in return. Given your nature, I imagine it was a noble, if not altruistic desire.”
“...Do you... Really think so? You don't believe I am some sort of monster who could stand by while she did what she did to Adrian, or anyone else?”
“Little One, of course not.” Joachim assured the trembling little thing before them. “You are the kind of person who is always happy to see even a ferocious creature like myself come home. There's simply no way you were aware of the depths of her desire for power, nor her methods for achieving it.”
“But I let her put this spell seal on me, whatever it is...”
“I simply refuse to believe you acted in any way against your nature, Belle Lapin. Our Kitten will agree once he's over the shock of your confession. You will forgive him of course for needing a minute, considering the suffering he had at her hands.”
“...Thank you, Joachim.” Trevor murmured. “For hearing me out and still...”
Accepting me? Believing in me? Whatever it was Trevor was trying to thank the Vampyre for, he could not say out loud, but given their twisting auras and softening expressions, it was obvious that there was no need to. Alucard could admit to himself that Joachim's assessment was correct, for he was still fighting off the shock and the knee-jerk reaction to do exactly what he'd been warned not to; To lash out in aimless anger at an innocent party. The plausible excuses for Trevor falling in with the Witch were rational as well. Trevor fell under his spell because they loved one another. If he had been in love with Estefania, mistakenly or not, due to her and her pet rescuing the Hunter from agonizing solitude and torture, he could have given over to her wiles easily. What state had the poor Hunter been in when she pulled him from the damp stony prison? Weak with blood drain, starved, cold and terribly lonely? A person in such a state was easy to sway. Easy to take advantage of. That's right. There is just too many unknowns for me to get angry about this... He told me because he thinks me knowing will help. Because he was trusting me to help him solve it.
Alucard spoke up in the growing tense silence. “I was not almost murdered down there... I was. I died. For a brief moment, I was gone, and it is only that Lilû took some sort of pity on me in that last gasp of life that I am still here. It was not any sort of bravery on my part, or my will to fight and never give up. It was Lilû's mercy.” Still curled into Joachim for that intrinsic sense of comfort the Hierarchy provided him, the Dhampyre laughed bitterly at himself. What had even given him the right to momentarily rage at Trevor? He was just as guilty of gratitude. He owed Lilû his life. “I do appreciate your sentiments... And that you did come for me. And I am so very grateful that I was given the chance to swim out of that watery prison. In that final moment I really was regretful that no one would have ever found my body. I do know what it is like to have someone you cherish suddenly vanish yet not have an answer as to how or why... It's a terrible all-consuming feeling.”
At the behest of a sudden urgent need to flee, Alucard jumped up from the couch and nearly raced his way to step out onto the balcony before pausing. The last thing he or any of his staff needed at this point in time was for fucking Seshat Publications to snap a drone photo of him in the state he was currently in. This presented a problem as he was in desperate need of space and silence to calm down and think. He had a jigsaw to work at but too much noise and fog in his brain to function at any acceptable capacity. And there was still the Iron Maiden's meeting to prepare for tomorrow.
“Let's stop here for today.” The Ambassador in him announced firmly. “There is not enough that you can recall with any clarity, Trevor, so there is no benefit working ourselves up or seeing who can pile more guilt up on their side. We will say that Estefania and her pet rescued you because you say they did, and I believe you. Lilû took pity on me when it was the one who captured me for it's master to begin with. There was something about you that Estefania saw worth saving, so she did.” Turning towards the still shaken Hunter, he reached a hand out to hopefully steady the anxious man before him, a gesture that nearly brought Trevor to tears with relief. “Blood Ritual's have a price that must be paid. To tear my Father from the stones and remove his grip on the Castle, Julius agreed to pay the price, which was a Loss of Self. He thought it meant his life he was giving up, but it was his memories. He lost the man he used to be... It stands to reason the ritual used to gain access to the Castle may have a similar price to be paid, so it's plausible that she was your friend for a time before you were placed on that dais and almost sacrificed. You just can't remember it because the price to be paid was you. I just interrupted it before she could complete the ritual, hence your spotty memory.”
“This is a good theory, Kitten.” Joachim encouraged.
“If you were her friend and someone she believed worth keeping safe, it is questionable to why she would have placed a potentially volatile and dangerous seal on you. Or why she would have placed you on that alter... Or allowed you to climb up there of your own volition. But you know what, Trevor? We may never figure that one out, and frankly, it doesn't matter. You will never be on that alter of her again because I will not allow her to use you that way.”
“You said she spoke about me to you as if I were an object... I can't stand not knowing why she spared me from my imprisonment only to place the man I love in the same circumstance... Do you think I helped her because I wanted to die, maybe?”
“Enough, Trevor.” Alucard commanded softly. “Estefania was going to use you, but then I interrupted her ritual carrying the the very stones she needed to succeed, so she used me instead. To be honest, I hope that this means she doesn't need you anymore and you are safe. Then the only thing we need to contend with is my own colossal fuck-up. Let's just get through the Iron Maiden's crucible tomorrow and then we can go home... Our real home... To rest... Reexamining this discussion once the current stress point is managed might be best. Maybe with a bit of time things will be clearer, or your memory will fill in a bit more.”
“Adrian...”
“I'm sorry I reacted the way I did when you trusted me with the truth. I promise this has nothing to do with you, but I think I just need a minute or two... A bit of time to myself.” He gauged the Hunter's reaction to his request, finding the brunette understanding while subsequently looking a bit let-down. They were both hurting, but for a few selfish minutes, Alucard knew he could not provide what Trevor needed from him. Not until he got a hold of himself once more.
Weighing the options in such a small space made even smaller by the occupancy of three people, Alucard possessed enough self-awareness to realize that if he fled to his office he would only end of up coping the way he always did these days. Burying himself and his troubles in work, ignoring the building angst and discomfort until he was so unstable he'd pitch a fit over the smallest unrelated thing and in the aftermath of his fury he'd blame Joachim for setting him off, like he always did. Which was no longer acceptable. Trevor had stated he would endeavour to become the best version of Trevor Belmont there could be, and Alucard had more or less promised himself he'd attempt to do the same. Not only finding but holding onto the Alucard Țepeș 'Family Man' that had smiled and laughed easily as he spent time with his makeshift family and was not quick to anger was proving a struggle without a clear mind. So what could he do in the here and now to maintain his tenuous grip? Just sit with the unease? Push through it?
He found himself in the darkened bedroom having moved without thought to get a modicum of that desired personal space and flopped sideways across the King-sized bed in order to stare blankly at the ceiling. Resolving never again to be angry with Trevor Belmont for trusting him with honesty, which went doubly so for Joachim, the most frequent and undeserving target of his bottled frustrations. Trevor said he had felt love at some point for the the sub-human scum that had violated Alucard in ways more precise and perverse than he had allowed Lilû to physically, for the vile Witch had been clear with her intent while digging her essence through him. She'd understood how turning him inside out and back again to expose his every fault, fear and weakness, stealing her glances at the secret parts of him no one had any right to see... The Witch had known what she was wresting from him in her search for the Stone's location. She knew now the depths of his love and affection for her 'Sacrifice'.
Through the decoratively carved wooden partition between bedroom and the living area he was momentarily distracted from his churning thoughts by Joachim's best efforts to get Trevor into the kitchenette to help fix the Hunter a meal. The Vampyre was using every trick in the parent-book – well-practised to boot, as Leila was a notoriously picky eater – to coax the sullen brunette, but it was seemingly to no avail. Until the elder Moroi darted around to seize the Hunter and dragged him into the direct light the overhead kitchen fixtures cast, and then most bizarrely of all, rolled Trevor's shirt up just past his navel.
“Little One, if you still desire to acquire that feature of Kitten's body you covet so much, you will need to cease skipping out on meals simply because you are stressed.” Chastening softly, Joachim made a direct gesture towards the Hunter's exposed flesh.
Twisting in the light to get a better look, Trevor's confused expression turned into one of surprise and then awe. “Whoa, I have the lines. I mean, they're faint, but I have them, right? It's not a trick of the light or my eyes?”
“There are no tricks here, just the results of your hard work. So you see how important it is that we keep up your healthier habits then, correct?”
“You're absolutely right. I can't lose my sick gains. What do we have in the fridge..?” Trevor's voice trailed off as he disappeared into the kitchen with the elder demon on his heels, listing off the extensive assortment of dishes he was hoping to find the ingredients for.
Back in the dark room Alucard found himself... Chuckling at the fond exchange. Liberated from the shackles of jealousy more than less in recent days, he was also free to admit it was a relief the unlikely pair of Vampyre and Vampyre Hunter got along so well together. A relief that there was someone else he could count on to keep Trevor's well-being first and foremost to the same degree as he did.
Trevor had been a victim. No matter Estefania's ulterior motives – and Alucard firmly believed she had nefarious ulterior motives – for rescuing Trevor from the true monster that had held him in captivity against his will, draining his blood night after gruelling night, it would be only natural for the victim of such an ordeal to have positive feelings about the one who'd pulled him out of the depths of that endless hell. No matter her reasons for doing so, she had, and Trevor was the kind of man who would repay any kindness or a debt. Or perhaps like Joachim and himself, the Witch's familiar had drawn him in and subdued the Hunter? These spiralling thoughts were not adding any new insights, and were certainly not helping. He was in a mental tailspin and needed to stop. Had he not just stated they should focus first on dealing with Liza? Trevor's reasons for his active involvement to any degree did not matter at this point now that the Witch had the Crimson Stone.
There was a dip at his side as the edge of the bed gave in to the weight of his perfect pretty Prințesă perching a bit nervously. Trevor's visage was a conflicting mess of guilt and worry, juxtaposed by flashes here and there of cautious, hopeful optimism. Except for his eyes. Each time the blue-grey gems settled on any of his visible anointed-silver scars, the heartbreak contained within them overtook all other emotions.
“I am so sorry.” The Hunter whispered, looking as if he truly believed it futile to try yet still could not help himself. “Whatever it was that she meant to me... You mean more. I will never forgive her for trying to take you away from me, Adrian. I will choose you every chance I am given, I hope you know that.”
“I believe you, Trevor. We will figure this whole thing out together, but not tonight. Now shouldn't you be putting Joachim to work feeding you? After I am finished informing Director Levin tomorrow that I have fucked over Romania and possibly all of Europe in the immediate future, we are not coming back here. We will leave straight from the Church HQ back to your new home. You should ensure you have the energy for the Inquisition as well as the trip.”
“What about you?”
“I am going to stay here and keep thinking for a bit longer. Also... Thank you, Trevor.”
“What have I done? If anything I thought you would be... disgusted... with me. For my reaction to Esteffi and Arden.”
“The immature Alucard from even a week ago might have been. That guy would have been wrong to feel that way. Reflecting back on his past behaviour, he was kind of an insufferable asshole about certain things, you know?” Trevor's uncertain expression softened his own sardonic one. “You have your new best friend to thank for my mature character growth. Even I am impressed with how rationally I am handling this situation.” Still unhappy with how fragile Trevor appeared to be, hovering at his side like a mournful wraith, the Dhampyre mustered up a simple but genuine smile for him. It was the best he could do while still fighting out of the mire, but it seemed to be enough to break through Trevor's apprehensions. “Thank you for choosing me, and for your kind words, is what I meant.”
“It was an easy choice to make. You're the obvious pick, yes?” At last there was a return of some levity in Trevor's soft tone, and the Dhampyre was all here for it.
“You know, it was wrong of me to say or even think that you and Lilû have the same face. That thing looks so impossibly flawless, the uncanny valley effect of it's appearance off-sets any true beauty. There is no warmth held in any of it's features, and no personality for all it's lack of quirks.”
“You just said it was flawless.” Trevor mumbled, that rectangular strip of flesh across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones flushing.
Alucard sat up abruptly, successfully catching the Hunter's face in his hands before the brunette could step back out of his reach. “You're real, Trevor Christopher Belmont. Every cut, scrape and scar tells your life story which I'd like to read over and over again. I even love your freckles.”
“I-I... Have freckles?” The Hunter stammered, caught wholly off guard.
“Yeah, you do.” Alucard confirmed, tracing the path of the light and faint dusting across that flushed flesh with a gentle fingertip. “They are easiest to see in the midday sunlight, but when you blush they come out clearer as well. Right along here... They're so cute.” Alucard leaned in, taking advantage of Trevor's stunned freeze in order to place one of those chaste kisses against his lips before he flopped back down on the bed to stare back up at his ceiling. “Actually, everything about you I find cute. All the shitty other stuff that piles onto my plate... None of it matters when I look at you. You're the only girl for me, Trevor Belmont.”
Folding his arms in some sort of self-conscious self-soothing response, Trevor gave him a wry look. “I thought it was Joachim who everyone calls your girlfriend.”
“Hah!” He snorted. “Between you and I, he's actually more like my wife. He does my laundry and even matches my socks.”
“Was that why you kept getting me to fold your laundry? Some kind of Dhampyre's Wife training?”
“Well yeah, but you're not supposed to say that out loud. It makes me sound sleazy.”
“And lazy.”
“Amongst other things.”
Letting out a long exasperated sigh, Trevor settled back onto a more serious mood. “Adrian, about what happened... Do you need me to do anything?”
The Hunter didn't need to specify which specific event he was referring to. “You are already doing what helps me the most. You're giving me a reason to keep moving forward, so just keep being your lovable, adorable self and I promise I will be fine eventually. You and I against the world, right?”
“..Okay.” The brunette nodded at last, settling the matter for the time being. “But if you need anything... Just ask.”
“I will... So would you please go eat a real meal and stop skipping them in the future? Joachim has it in his head that you need to weigh at least one hundred and seventy-five pounds for some reason, and you still look a good ten or fifteen away from making him happy.”
“What an arbitrary number.” The Hunter murmured as he ducked out and back into the kitchenette to comply.
That left him alone again with his ruminations, trying to fit the mysteries and unknowns around the pieces of information he was in possession of. Why and how could the Witch have come to keep Trevor as company? From who and where had she rescued him? How long ago? Trevor claimed to have lost track of time after doing his best to count a year's span. Was that because he had been being drained so much he'd fallen into those death-like 'Dormant' states Joachim posited were a last ditch biological response aimed at survival? The Hunter's memory seemed hazy and incomplete from the times Alucard had witnessed him claw his way back to life from that state. Or was that ability to fall into dormancy gained only after the ceaseless abuse as a means to protect his mind? Running with that theory, did Estefania actually intend to kill Trevor with that blood ritual he had interrupted, or had the Witch fully expected him to sputter back into life after she'd butchered him? Or... Was that perhaps the true purpose of the Spell-Seal Giustina had identified? Had Estefania placed it on him to protect him from the cost of such a rite? Was it some magickal loophole she'd discovered? The High Priestess of the Belnades clan mentioned that it was aged... But then, she'd made a comment much to the effect that insinuated Trevor Belmont was also more ancient than the twenty-four years he allegedly was supposed to be. Could that be the purpose of the seal? If Lilû was the Proto-Desire Demon, as old as oral history, was Estefania also... Similarly ancient? She had smelled human to him, though. And Trevor, he also smelled human. Divine... But Human.
It was aggravating to have every which way he turned only lead to another question. Was there anything else within his power to do besides waiting for the inevitable resurgence of the Castle to the thinning Veil in Romania and warning the Church of the active and near certain attempt to seize that power? His own agency and network of demons would be ever vigilant, but was there truly nothing that could be done by him aside from waiting for the other shoe to drop? Was he powerless in the fight to stymie the effects of his own failures?
This next time, the dip of the mattress was a little deeper than when Trevor had perched there to check in on him, obviously because there was another twenty pounds on the Hunter's weight now at his side, peering down at him from a fairly lofty height. If only Alucard could find a way to shrink the Vampyre down a few more inches, then maybe he would find Joachim's antics more cute then agitating, and they would have fought less over the years. But then, that wasn't exactly a fair thought to have. Neither was the proceeding one about how the back-lit profile of the demon accentuated the vaguely feminine curve from his extremely cinched waist down to the muscle on his glutes and thighs, and Alucard was now thinking once again how crazy Trevor was to suggest this dude was the more handsome one out of the two of them. He'd pass for a lady looked at from the right angles. But wait, why was a guy firmly at a five on the Kinsey Scale all his life suddenly super fixated on traditionally female body traits?
Thank goodness Joachim's distractingly pleasant voice broke him out of wherever that thought train was heading.
“You are handling yourself as well as could be expected, Kitten. I am impressed.”
Maybe staying on the train to questioning his sexual tastes would have been fine after all. “Do not patronize me right now, please. I would rather not trauma-bond over our shared experience at the hands of the same horny demon either, if possible. I am trying to sort out my options here, not wallow in self-pity.”
Joachim gave him a rather pensive and strange look which was wiped clean far too fast for Alucard to completely digest before promptly flopping down alongside him, staring at the same blank patch of ceiling. Then again, who could truly say what those perceptive silver eyes found in the void space. “Patronizing you was not my intent, so I apologize if I chose my words poorly, Kitten. What I was hoping to convey was that while we may have experienced differing visceral reactions to our shared perpetrator as my desensitized attitude towards basic demon relations is vastly differing from yours... I do understand intimately what it is like to fear that kind of touch but feel you have no choice but to submit, regardless. Before I was changed into what I am now, which was done solely to preserve my so-called beauty, my younger human self's appearance whet the appetites of those in Walter's company I had neither the power nor the courage to refuse. That was over two millennia ago. Long enough to forget that my place at that time had been to serve no matter the command, yet I never have nor do I believe I ever will.”
How was it possible that the demon at his side could speak so evenly about his repeated physical and sexual assault as a mere child? The stories about Walter Bernhard's proclivities and ever degenerating tastes had been so legendary some of the more long-lived demons still traded stories about the kinds of vicious depravities he and his court of sycophants had committed just to stave off a bit of boredom.
“It is unfortunate that some experiences etch themselves into our core and we can never be free of those wounds. But I have learned that with time, although the wound itself never changes, the other experiences and memories in your life continue to grow around it until one day you look back and it seems so much smaller. It's not, but it does seem that way... Which I mean is to say, this will not define you, Adrian. I am relieved to see that you already appear to be on your way to accepting that truth.”
“How are you always so poignant when I am least expecting it?”
“I am very old, Kitten. Very... Very... Old.”
Alucard reached out blindly in the dim light to find Joachim's hand and laced their fingers. This was not unlike so many talks they had shared even a hundred years in the past. Watching the sun rise through a window or the tree tops in an amiable sprawl of limbs either with their own or shared sexual partners, or even just the two of them alone, expounding on philosophy or just the minor events of the previous night. The Vampyre had always taken his hand in those subdued intimate moments, back when Alucard had been a better friend and family member. The Dhampyre had never wondered until now if Joachim just wanted to touch him more out of that Desire demon compulsion to dog-pile, or if he really just liked his hands specifically. He seemed to take advantage of every opportunity given to take one between both of his.
Nostalgia warming him up enough for an act of bravery, he invited Joachim inside just a tiny amount as a way of showing his gratitude. The small inch of give was all he was capable of in that current fragile moment, but the returning waves of warmth sent along that connection told him that his small effort was more than enough. “Please don't fly off the handle but... If I wasn't convinced every one in Walter's court back then wasn't already dead, I would hunt them down and kill them myself for what they did to you... And for everything that happened after you were changed.” That dried out head on Joachim's shelf's days were definitely numbered.
Along their tremulous connection came that rear of compulsive defensiveness for Joachim's long dead Master, but the elder Vampyre managed to contain the knee-jerk reaction, instead replying in a rather calm manor. “No sense in dwelling on two thousand year old crimes. Besides, there were plenty of times I was pampered as well.”
“That right there is actually the reason I mostly wish I could kill him all over again. A monster got inside your head and after all this time he's still camping out there.” Alucard knew more than anyone how dangerous it was to press the Walter button, and yet here he was. Jabbing it repeatedly.
Somehow, while Joachim's aura did flare up dangerously, the elder Moroi once again managed to keep the reigns on his cult programming. “Kitten, Kitten, Kitten... Enough, I beg you. I only wanted to use an example, not start a whole new argument.”
I am going to burn that leathery skull to ash when I get home, just you wait. Walter and his decapitated mug have no business and no place in our new lives.
“Our pretty Rabbit was on the mark, you know.” The Vampyre prodded, no doubt picking up on his Walter-focused white hot rage. “You are a born fighter and you simply never know when to give up. It's admirable and I am quite proud to consider you my Little One as well.”
It was Walter's fault, but his temper got out of hand just then. “I am bigger than you. Five inches and almost sixty pounds, Joachim.”
“Four inches and forty-five, fifty tops.”
Alucard turned on his side to stare at the Vampyre in profile as he wriggled their clasped hands irately. It was a hundred percent his annoyance at how Walter could still have such a hold on another being a millennia after he was slain at the wheel, but even knowing that he was falling into old destructive coping patterns, he just couldn't stop himself from trying to pick a fight. “Just come out with it already! I kept the Stones when you told me I should destroy them. I hid them within my person when you suggested I should contain them below the city. And now I have lost them because I allowed myself to be consumed by my childish temper and act in foolhardy ill-conceived vengeance.”
“Come out with what already, my Little One?”
“That I am a stupid half-breed!? I never listen and I never learn? That if I was a full-blooded demon then perhaps I would have a full brain to work through my rash dumb decisions?”
“Little One...”
“I am not little! Nothing about me is little.” He snarled. “Certainly not my mistakes.”
“Adrian, then.” Joachim inhaled and exhaled in a calming and measured manner. “Ignoring any implications I have made in the past to the contrary, there is nothing wrong with being half a demon or half a human. Referring to you as a half-breed was an easy slur I could use to hurt you back when I felt wounded by your words and actions. Two wrongs do not make a right, is the old adage, so I promise going forward that I will not be taking that easy insult as a short-cut to end our disagreements. There is nothing wrong with you being a Dhampyre. There are no faults and no shortcomings. This is the truth. You are perfect just as you are.”
“What the fuck got into you?” Maybe not the best approach, but he was too beside himself for tact.
“Trevor Belmont. Sweet Bunny suggested that I speak to you only how I would with a calm mind and not what my own temper would have me lash out with.”
“Oh... He... Umm.” Shrugging the shoulder not currently pressed into the mattress, he continued in a normal conversational tone, all anger spent spent in a seeming blink of the eye. “Would you believe he told me to be nicer to you as well? Is it working? I was supposed to be trying to be a better friend for you. I may have just blown it, however.”
“I think you have improved. I was supposed to be fostering an environment where you no longer feel the need to be defensive around me, or concerned with my opinions of your actions, or if the next words coming out of my mouth are going to offend you. Is that working?”
“Well... We haven't fought with one another in days so... I guess it is? Now that I think about it, I can't recall even one instance of you insulting me all week.”
“That's good. I have been wanting to mention how pleasant it has been of late spending time together without that undercurrent of animosity that's been ever-present Leila's mother passed.”
“That was my fault.”
“You say that but I did allow you to drift away. I never even thought there was something I could have done to stop you, but perhaps if I had tried there would not be a battleground taking place in our common areas each time you visit our home.”
“We should like... Probably get Trevor a really nice gift for this push, huh?”
“The Little One would be far more moved by a meaningful action than a material gift, wouldn't you agree? Perhaps some activity that families tend to enjoy to help welcome him into ours?”
“What about Leila?”
“Oh my, Kitten. You must truly be committed to change if you are the one bringing up Leila first.”
“I am serious, Joachim. You know she will not accept anything from me that isn't cold hard cash given with no strings attached, but what if we could do something for her together? Or... Took her somewhere she wanted to go?”
“You...” Joachim pursed his lips and turned on his side so that they were now laying face to face, searching his visage in a way that made it seem like he was expecting to find some anomaly there. Or verify if Alucard was having a stroke of some sort. “You forbade her from leaving the village, Adrian.”
“It is dangerous out here for the Demon Princess who already had one parent assassinated. You both are more than aware that she is safest where she is but I just thought... If you and I are both watching out for her? Maybe she would be all right?”
“I will ask.”
“Somewhere close though. In this country.”
“...I... Will ask...” The Vampyre shifted his focus from Alucard's face to the hand captured between his own he was now idly toying with, tracing the veins and shapes of ligaments and oval claws. “Leila may decline simply on principle, you are aware? She...”
“She is not my biggest fan. I know. That is my fault too, but maybe just asking her is a step in the right direction. You are not the only person I want to stop fighting with.”
There was a steady stream of happiness flowing through the connection from Joachim, and the demon even let out a mist of his jovial scent into the air as if to make certain Alucard did not mistake the positive effect this conversation was having. Such simple gestures from him having such an impact... Once more he was reminded just how awful and removed from his little family he had grown.
“Can I do something for you too?”
“You are already doing it, Kitten.”
“We're just talking. That shouldn't be a gift, Joachim, we should be talking to one another every day.”
“To me, it is.” The Vampyre insisted sincerely. “You have always been enough for me, Kitten.”
“That is... Disgustingly saccharine, as you would say. My teeth hurt.”
“Did I not give you a list of chores to complete upon your return? Do those for me and consider whatever guilt-imposed debt you owe me repaid in full, if you must.”
“Chores are chores. I was going to do all the stuff on your list anyway as a show of good faith.”
“Were you? Then you must not have read through the list thoroughly...”
“I was.” He double down. “I will. So pick something else.”
“You're not going to let this one go, are you?” Joachim sighed again. “Don't bother confirming, as I know just what you're like when you're being obstinate. For the record, not everything needs to be a grand gesture or spectacle as you seem to think. Life is found amongst all the small details and often a simple, consistent, but earnest gesture communicates your affection the best.”
“Then suggest something small. I am all ears.”
“Small hmm...” Joachim hummed as he pondered, smiling wickedly once it appeared he'd settled on a request. “Play for me at our bar. I will mix you your favourite drink and in return you will dust off the ivories and play me your best. The rest of the rabble may listen, but you are going to be playing for my enjoyment. The longer you play for me, the longer and stronger I will mix your drinks until we're drunk enough not to care how much the kids are complaining that we shut off their EDM beats that you'll indulge me in our duet. The duet will be for our adorable little Bunny Rabbit's enjoyment.”
“Our duet?”
“Yes, you must recall, as it was that piece you wrote for me in the early 1920's.”
“...Oh.” His eyes widened. recalling the airy tune with an undercurrent of tragedy he'd composed during a long bender over a weekend in the heyday of NYC's rip-roaring 20's. A piece that was a bit understated overall, but ramped up in parts where the tragic depths threatened to break through the deceivingly still waters. It was a tune not unlike they same man he'd had in mind when the melody had been composed. “Clear Blue Riverside.” Alucard guessed correctly.
“Yes, that's the one... Although I must confess I always suspected you were teasing me with that title, given my aversion to rivers. Streams. Lakes. Oceans.” The Vampyre quirked a single brow. “Very deep puddles...”
“Then you're really not going to like the variant of the composition I completed in the 40's. I switched up the tempo and put more emphasis on the moodiness. You were very moody during the Great Depression and World War One.”
“Me and everyone else... You never shared this remix with me. What is the alternate version called?”
“Nobleman of the Water Prison.”
“Kitten.” The Vampyre stared flatly back at him before admonishing. “You are as callous as you are clever sometimes. Very well, you will play me this poorly titled piece of music as well, and in retaliation one of your drinks will be a fireball, but I am not warning you when it's coming.”
“That's fair.”
“Are you going to let your pampered pet hover in the doorway all evening or will you invite him inside?
Perplexed, Alucard glanced over his shoulder towards the opening in the carved wood after the comment and noticed Trevor watching them curled up together on their sides holding hands, wearing a mild and not at all unpleasant expression. Alucard had not noticed him finish up his meal and could not say with any certainty how long he had been standing there observing them. He tore his hand out of Joachim's gentle caressing grip and sat up abruptly, patting down his wrinkled suit and dishevelled hair due to that ever-present need to avoid looking unattractive in Trevor Belmont's eyes.
“You could have stayed like that, I don't mind. Honestly. I thought you two were doing great.” The Hunter mused affectionately in harmony with the overtly satisfied perfume emanating from that corner of the room. “It was nice to see you both in a peaceful domestic light. I believe I've finally gained some insight into why you're friends. It was hard to see with all the bickering. But I did not mean to intrude on your private moments, I just... I guess I wanted to enjoy?” Throwing up his hands, Trevor surrendered to his own whims. “Yes, that's it. I just wanted to enjoy watching the two people I currently like the most enjoy one another's company. That probably sounds weird, no?”
“Yes.” Adrian agreed just as Joachim said, “No.” The two demons met eyes and neither refused to change their stance. “No?” Adrian asked just as Joachim was questioning. “Yes?”
From the doorway came a snort. Trevor tried to cover his mouth in time to stifle it but in short order he'd lost the fight to contain that musical, wonderful, wholly coveted girlish titter that was escaping through his poorly muffling fingers. That glorious sound Alucard had spent every waking moment they'd had left together in Lupu after the first night Trevor had donned the blue dress for him, trying to get the infuriating Hunter to make that noise even just one more time.
He's actually doing it!
Alucard knew he was grinning stupidly from ear to ear, but how could he not after such a wholesome reward? If continuing to play a part in the two-man comedic act with Joachim was the ticket to pulling that magickal sound out of Trevor Belmont then Alucard would gladly go out and buy a pair of clown shoes right then.
While no longer connected to Alucard, the Vampyre must have been heavily doused in the scent of the Dhampyre's overflowing pleasure, for it seemed he was suffering some kind of second-hand high off Alucard's mirth. A hand attached to the body rising to sit beckoned Trevor over closer so as to join them. “Come get along domestically with us too, Little One.” The elder demon bid playfully.
“Should I? I have heard that three is a crowd.” Stated as a slow path was picked across the Turkish carpet towards them, Trevor halted just before the doubly occupied bed. “I had always thought that I held an intense aversion to such a thing, but I am discovering of late that it really depends on the crowd. You really do make such a fetching pair when side by side like this... Is it all right if I crowd you?”
Personally, Alucard could not stand a single second more of this foreplay so he reached out quickly enough to catch and corral Trevor into his laps and arms before the wily Hunter to slip out of his grasp, laying his head against the Hunter's chest once he'd pinned him down so as to listen to that steady, soothing heartbeat. The slow rhythm that had marched him to the Castle the very first time he'd stood against the forces on unmitigated Chaos. Long after Trevor's disappearance, even the memory of that slow beat had carried him all the way to where he stood today... Blessed with that heartbeat once again.
Trevor's voice in his ear was loving and light as he chastened the Dhampyre for being so rough, but the tender way those hands were combing through his hair combined with the slight tremble in the body he crushed in his arms told him that Trevor was still reconciling with the devastating news he'd received. That not just one but both his Moroi suitors had recently been subjected to a kind of intimate violence the empathetic Hunter simply had no idea how to respond to. If Joachim was not going to make a fuss about being used for procreation and Alucard was insisting that he did not want to wallow in shame of being used for pleasure, then that meant that Trevor had no choice but to bottle up his own feelings about their plight, right? While Alucard truly did not want to wallow, he also knew he could not bear to see Trevor eat himself up inside, feeling like there was nothing he could do to help. Always a problem-solver, that Trevor Belmont.
“With you here, suddenly it feels like the problems are not so insurmountable. I think you're giving me your strength.” He purred, nestling closer to the warm body in his arms. “Can we stay like this the rest of the night?”
Those tender caresses he'd been melting under paused for a moment as the Dhampyre was certain what would follow his flattery would be Trevor refuting there was any benefit he was offering in this situation and instead call him out on his obvious attempt to stay glued together. It seemed that Trevor was feeling equally as needy and so willing to go along with his scheme, more than not to stave off that sense of being 'useless' as the Hunter would word it to help Alucard in any other meaningful capacity. As if comfort and support were not meaningful contributions, right? They... Were going to have to work very hard on his pretty little Prințesă's self-esteem one of these days soon.
“Let me just wash up first. It still feels as if that ultrasound residue remains on my skin. Can you find something for us to watch in the meantime? I'm not exactly tired yet.”
The Hunter extricated himself expertly from Alucard's grasp in spite of his halfhearted protests and proclamation that he could accept Trevor, goo residue or not. The brunette took his opportunity to slip away once Joachim climbing out of the bed right after him sufficiently distracted the Dhampyre.
“Where are you going?” The questioned was asked more irritably than intended, but why did it seem all of a sudden no one wanted to stay with him for a little while? Sure he'd stated he did not want to wallow, and yes that was a true statement, but that didn't mean he wanted to be alone without his...
“There are dozens of pending tasks at this Embassy I could occupy myself taking care of while we wait until it is time to face Iron Spikes for Jesus. Enjoy your brief reprieve with 'Albus Lepus' until then. Let him coddle you, if not for your sake, at least for his.”
“But...” Alucard began, unsure exactly why he was attempting to argue against a legitimate and practical use of Joachim's time, but some part of him no matter how harshly he'd claimed he did not want to wallow in misery and victim-hood... Some part of him of him that always sought out the safety and security of his elder companion whenever gravely injured or unnerved, was once more reaching out desperately to cling onto that grounding force right then. That stability. If Joachim did not stay with him tonight, there was no chance he'd be getting any kind of meditative rest in. He would spend the entirety of the eve and subsequent early morn holding Trevor, plagued by dark and unpleasant memories. “Please stay.” Wow, did that sound a very pathetic request in his defeated tone.
Turning back in the door frame of the powder room, Trevor also put in his own small-sounding plea for the Vampyre to remain in their company. “Given what you shared with us about your undesired liaison with the Lilû it feels terribly selfish to ask but... I would also feel safer and more at ease if you stayed here with us.” Safer for who Trevor tactfully did not specify, yet Alucard had a fairly strong suspicion it was the Moroi duo that Trevor wanted to keep a close eye on.
“Please.” Alucard insisted when Joachim's opened his mouth but hesitated, no doubt about to refuse on the grounds of giving them their privacy. “Let me be a spoiled brat for a little while longer.” Bratty lilt to his tone added, he pressed. “Spoil me more, Master.”
“That is not physically possible, Kitten. I am afraid to say you're rotten to the core.”
“That's a quitter's attitude, Joachim. Give it the old college try and I just may become even more entitled yet.”
That seemed to finally win over the elder demon who proceeded to shed his black suit jacket and tie but stayed otherwise business casual while Trevor finished readying himself for bed. Alucard simply shed his suit and folded it haphazardly on the bench by the foot of the bed, keeping only a thin white undershirt and undergarments on for basic decency. Once he was done, he turned back to see Joachim scrolling through his phone – for some movies, presumably – at the head of the bed still wearing even the vest portion of the black suit. It flattered that dynamic curve from waist to hip even more without the jacket to bulk, but even Alucard didn't lounge in his waistcoats. That had to be uncomfortable.
“How come you never take your clothes off?”
“I bathe regularly, thank you.” The Vampyre snapped back. “I do not sweat and I take care not to bleed or get other viscera on my person, so my clothes merely get dusty with use. Unless you drunkenly bump into me with both your hands full, as you seem want to do.”
“Arghh, no. I mean, how come you never wear pyjamas or sweatpants around the house if you're not going anywhere that day, or let's say to lay in bed watching videos on your phone? Actually, I can't even recall you ever removing your clothes to have sex either? You just unzip and do the deed.”
“That's the part I need naked for the act, what's it to you?”
“I... Don't know. I guess it just occurred to me.”
“Does how I adorn myself outside of bathing in any way affect your day?” Without waiting for Alucard to respond, Joachim dismissed him and returned all his attention to the phone. “What a trivial and pointless line of questioning while there remains so much else of import to address. You should get some rest alongside the Little One. I will keep watch over your both, have no fear.”
In the end the trio found themselves in yet another tangle of limbs and bedsheets, which was becoming quite the common occurrence in the Țepeș household, mindlessly zoning out on Kaiju nonsense films obviously selected for the genre's precise ability to numb any troubling thoughts. To keep the peace Alucard had just kept quiet after Joachim shut him down and Trevor, picking up on the terse air between his Moroi companions, had followed suite, climbing up beside the Vampyre to better cradle the Dhampyre between them. So it was a little bit of a shock when during the credit roll following Godzilla vs Biollante the Hunter broker the moratorium on further discussion.
“Today I told my grandson today that I was not a born killer, only a man who happened to have learned to be good at killing...” Trevor murmured, voice such a dark edge it's lethality could not be questioned. “I would like to slay the Lilû. If I close my eyes I start to imagine it on top of either one of you and I just can't... I need to make sure it never gets another chance.”
“Trevor...” Alucard hugged the torso he was half buried in whilst cradled between the two warm bodies with him. How was he supposed to respond to such a declaration of death?
It was Joachim, liquid silver pouring coolly from his lips over the murderous heat building at his side, who brought rationality back to the forefront, although not without a sympathetic softness to ease the delivery. “That entity you are condemning to death is not unlike a force of nature. It is not capable of complex thoughts or emotions, and therefore has no concept of morals as you know them. It is an ancient lifeform which has very basic purposes, which are to survive and to procreate. You would not disparage the tides from rising, the rains from falling, nor the wind blowing, would you, Little One? I do understand how you feel to have those which you desire to care for and protect befouled in your opinion by a mere beast, and I am touched that you would consider my own self as yours to protect, but you must understand that there was no maliciousness in Lilû's actions. It was an animal following it's basic instincts.”
“Are you trying to convince me not to slay that demon? That I should... give it a free pass and forgive it?”
“You are the master of both your emotions and your actions, Trevor, and I would not dream of trying to stay your hand if blood is the only thing that will salve this wound of yours. I am merely stating that if your intent to hunt down the progenitor of my species is based solely upon some justice you seek to provide me, that it is for my sake you will claim it's head, then your quest is a pointless endeavour. I have not been wronged in any meaningful way. In fact, should I succeed in devouring the ancient demon when next we meet, Lilû will not think me a murderer for following my basic instinct. We are demons, acting as our species do.”
Glancing up from his position, Alucard could see the cogs in Trevor's dark eyes turning, mulling over the Vampyre's reasoning for bearing no grudge towards the very thing that had used him. The Dhampyre also sat with those words and came to a rather surprising conclusion of his own. “As unbelievable as this is going to sound given the waterworks display I put on earlier... I think I agree with Joachim. My issues with what happened to me insofar as the Lilû's actions are a trap of my own making. I feel guilty and filthy because I played along to escape that silver cage for a while... In the end, it was Lilû's rudimentary form of pity that saved my life, and it's quite possible my decision to give into it as often as I did was what moved it to have that pity. Or whatever amounts to pity a primordial being such as that is capable of.”
“...You want to let it live too?” The Hunter pulled him up from his clinging position so that they were eye to eye. “Why?”
Why indeed? If he had to explain the mutable and complex reasoning he currently wasn't a hundred percent certain of himself... “Because I am the Demon Ambassador, Trevor. It's my job to advocate for and protect my brothers and sisters from unfair persecution or extinction. Lilû is one of a kind, and when it is gone, there will never be another like it.” Gaining momentum, Alucard felt himself drawing strength from his conviction, as he now truly did believe he was speaking his truth. “Lilû may have brought me back to Estefania like a pet pleasing it's master, but Lilû did not place me in that cage at the bottom of a lake, nor did Lilû torture me for information about the Stones. That demon is not the one dead-set on summoning the Castle from the Void, nor was it that demon I found with an athame above your heart on that alter back in Japan. It was Estefania. Everything has been Estefania.”
“...So it is Esteffi.” Trevor settled on. His eyes held no light, and his voice no emotion. Alucard could have even swore his body temperature dipped a few degrees. “All right then... Esteffi is going to die. I will see to that. I swear this oath on my own life.”
There was nothing Alucard could think of to say to that. Not even Joachim had a witty rejoinder or sagely word to redirect and refocus.
The next Kaiju film started up as the Hunter remained deathly silent.
Notes:
I think this is what they call in television a "bottle episode"
2/5 of the next chapter is already drafted. For any aspiring writer's out there, as a new writer I have learned that if I hand-write out a draft first and then type it, although it SEEMS like writing everything twice is more work, all those chapters end up much smoother and there is less of a struggle. Don't ask me why, but thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.
Chapter 53: The Gambit pt.3
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Church HQ, Wallachia
After suffering through what amounted to a silent and tense late morning stepping lightly around one glowering Trevor Belmont, it was honestly welcomed to have Missy's aggressive attentiveness as a distraction. Director Levin's personal aid, a sight as bright and immaculately dressed as she always was, greeted the trio comprised of the Demon Ambassador, their VIP guest, and one ancient Vampyre playing the role of bodyguard with effortless charm. She seemed not to pay Joachim much mind as he was doing a stellar job standing out as little as any other mute matte black suited security detail, instead filling the air with a run down of the headlines from that day's local Wallachian news as she guided them along the same path as she had the previous day. A few minor shortcuts aside. Missy's tour this time breezed through the offices as well as bypassed the labs, skirting the barracks and training rooms to instead stick to more decorative and stunning high vaulted ceiling corridors. The amount of luxurious carpeting and hung tapestries strung about these halls muffled even Missy's Loubotin heels, loathe as the poor thing likely was to not have attention drawn to them.
Chatter dwindling in relation to how close they were to their destination, she quietly led them through the executive wing and up the final set of stairs to where members of the Board held office, as well as the Director's personal staff, stopping in a posh reception area that simply oozed 'too much money' just before Eliza Levin's cathedral-esque office and her large, ominous looking doors.
“Apologies, Ambassador and Mister Belmont. Madame Director's prior engagement has not quite wrapped up.” Missy's soft voice lamented as she waved them into the semi private mini lounge where Liza's guests could wait for her to give them her time.
It seemed Liza had had some serious redecoration and renovations since he'd last stood here, for those tall double doors outside her office were definitely a new feature, and one the eyes of the Hunter at his side kept settling on. They made a statement, that was for sure. Joachim faded almost invisibly into the wall and decorative fixtures, the ever watchful wraith he was playing the part of that morning, but since Trevor seemed quite disinclined to take a seat on any of the plush options available to wait for their meeting, Alucard elected to stand with him, casually eyeing the pair of security guards posted outside their final destination. Missy stood with them, as standing seemed to be their preference, offering both to have refreshments sent up and seemingly crestfallen when her offer was refused. There were the beginnings of what Alucard would describe as a motherly concern about her features in response to the young Hunter's general disregard for food and drink. All she was seeing from him since they'd met on the jet was Trevor's persistent denial and abstinence, that as a mother of five, Alucard could understand it was in her nature to want to fuss about a 'growing boy' not taking care of themselves. At least Trevor's outward appearance was blank and nothing at all like the silent seething he'd displayed back at the Embassy. That was thankfully just Alucard's little growing concern to handle later...
Another grace granted for the day, they did not have too long to wait before one of the large cathedral doors creaked open just wide enough for Julius Belmont to slip out and Missy to excuse herself and slip inside. Julius' relaxed temperament and friendly ease was a welcomed balm for fraying nerves, if Alucard ever saw one.
“I feel like I just saw you.” The elder hunter joked, clapping his hand in one firm, hard, singular shake. For Trevor Belmont he'd reserved one of those one-armed hard patting man-hugs, leaving Joachim, once the Vampyre was noticed, with a mildly confused but acknowledging nod. “Do you want some insider trading?” The man asked, completely ignoring the scandalized noises Eliza's guards made at the mere suggestion. “Well, too bad, 'cause she was real tight lipped this morning. Barely gave me my marching orders for the day.”
“I am certain Director Levin will be more forthcoming after our discussion. Myself as well, for that matter. I believe I have some morsels that will provide you a few good scents to follow. I hope I do, at least... If you are not too disappointed in my hubris to listen, that is.”
“Well now I am really keen to know what bee has been buzzing in both your bonnets.”
“It is more of a stone in our collective shoes, I'm afraid.” The Dhampyre confessed under his breath.
Julius did not miss a beat. “Just wait a minute now...” Reaching out to take a hold of Alucard's shoulders, the hunter was cut short as the wide wooden doors to Eliza's office yawned outwards. As Missy stepped out to personally escort them inside, they left behind a frowning Julius Belmont mid-sentence, trading suspicious looks with an expressionless Joachim.
The entirety of the inner sanctum of the Church's premier investigative authority had indeed been revamped, with stark whites, white-golds, crystal and the like decorated the imposing environment to suit the predominant trait of one who inhabited it these days. Ice cold clarity.
“Madame Director, I present Ambassador Țepeș and his special guest, Mister Trevor Belmont.” Missy announced smoothly, turning towards them to welcome further. “Mister Belmont, allow me to introduce Madame Director Eliza Levin of this main headquarters for our organization.” With a nod of her head so low it may have qualified as a bow, Missy excused herself with a promise to be at the ready should Eliza need anything and let the men posted outside those grand doors shut them behind her.
That was it, then.
There was no way out of this now unless Trevor got cold feet and Alucard would be forced to pull rank and send him off with Joachim. If he'd had an appropriate amount of time to mull it over, he may have admitted that perhaps that was the real reason Joachim had been so insistent on coming. To give Alucard the option of still fessing up about the stones while providing Trevor an escape from the inquisition. The Vampyre was nothing if not thoughtful...
“Madame Director.” He greeted solemnly, stalling in his own minor way.
“Ambassador, please.” The tall woman clad in white and diamonds stood to hang her winter-coated ermine fur shrug across the back of her stately high-backed throne, for lack of a better word, and waved them towards the equally stern, yet plush cushioned pair of seats before her desk. “Shall I have Mellisandre send for anything, or would you prefer to jump right into the matters at hand?”
“We are prepared to discuss the relevant topics of this meeting, Madame Director. Your gracious hospitality is appreciated, however.”
“We shall get started, then. But first, may I ask, Mister Belmont, would you consent to one more blood sample? I would like to see one taken with my own eyes and tested for confirmation, as you can understand the claims made are of a rather sensational matter.”
For a stretched moment, Alucard considered shutting Liza down just based upon how stone-still Trevor remained, but it seemed Eliza Levin had just been graced with her first encounter of the famous Belmont Pause, as after careful consideration, Trevor gave one curt nod.
Alucard barely noticed Eliza send off her orders to staff that clearly had been waiting at the ready, for it seemed almost seconds after Trevor's agreement the doors were opened to allow in two staff members. A lab tech and what was clearly an IA to shadow them, tasked with strict supervision. Against all the odds it just so happened the lab technician assigned to draw this tightly controlled sample was none other than the probe happy one from yesterday who had been overly insistent upon an internal ultrasound.
For all Trevor's stoicism until that moment, the Hunter who had not yet taken a seat on the offered chair, openly sneered as he retreated behind Alucard just as he had back in the lab, peaking around the Dhampyre's arm with a look grim enough to go to war with. Perhaps at this point and time, that was exactly how Trevor perceived the space they currently found themselves trapped in. A battlefield. None of this was lost on Liza, of course, as she noted with cool detachment the dynamics at play. Due to the surprise appearance of a probe-enthusiast, a moment was all it took to let that cat out of the bag. The person claiming to be the original Trevor Belmont instinctively looked to Alucard for protection, just as Alucard could not stifle the urge he'd felt to place himself between the man claiming to be Trevor Belmont and what Trevor viewed as a threat. In fact, the way she almost nigh imperceptibly nodded to herself as if she'd just confirmed something could only mean the woman had damn well orchestrated the encounter. Why else would an imaging and ultrasound tech be up here taking blood?
“Allow me to apologize on behalf of our staff, Mister Belmont. It appears that you were mishandled during yesterday's tests.” The Director sounded so genuine with her sympathy too. It was a definite ploy on her part as no sooner was the serial-prober dismissed, the overly flirty technician with the crush arrived to take their place.“Thank you for obliging me, Mister Belmont.” Eliza spoke as a cottonball was being taped to Trevor's inner arm. She waited for the technician and their overseer to vacate before continuing.“This is just a small confirmation to ensure what we've drawn out of you right now is a match to the samples we've been testing vigorously.”
Fathomless blue eyes watched the brunette fiddle with the cottonball as Trevor struggled to put his blank stone mask back in place, but before he could even roll down his sleeve there was oddly something about how Trevor appeared that... Affected... Eliza. The Director breezed back around her desk to fetch something from out of her top drawer, only to close the distance between the Hunter and herself with the offered colourful blue box. In her hands was a cartoonish box of band-aids marketed for children, likely on hand for bumps and scrapes her rambunctious grandson accrued.
Alucard didn't know how to feel about watching the severe diamond adorned ultimate authority figure of the Church's worldwide investigative units peel back the wrapping of a blue band-aid and replace the cottonball on a grown man's arm with the skull and crossbones pirate adhesive. For a split second there, he believed she had actually had sex once and raised a child.
“It glows in the dark.” The stern woman stated flatly, already secreting the box back into wherever she'd pulled it from. “May we speak more freely, Ambassador?” The question was posed bereft of any hint of gentleness she'd briefly shown Trevor.” Whatever it was that had thawed her heart for that handful of seconds was clearly in the past.
“This is your place of business, Director. How you go about conducting it is your prerogative, but I can assure you I will not be offended by a lack of decorum.”
This gave the Ice Queen a slight glint in her eyes. She'd been hoping he'd agree then. “At current, it is the protected knowledge of myself and the Board, as well as your favourite agents employed by our organization, regarding the nature and depth of the relationship between yourself and Mister Belmont.”
There was the confession. She absolutely had been behind the 'chance' encounter earlier. “I alone was then enlightened in confidence by your... friends... that the shared camaraderie between you goes a fair bit beyond a battle-forged friendship. It is at my discretion, currently, that the facts of your deep affection for one another shall remain private knowledge unless public awareness of your relation is deemed necessary. I promise to do my best to respect your privacy so long as your actions do not make me question your motives or if you are being influenced unduly.”
“I... See.” The cat had been let out of the bag long before he'd arrived in Romania, then. Yoko and Julius had their reasons, no doubt, and Alucard would not go so far as to fault them for their actions without speaking to them first. That didn't change the fact that it was painfully awkward to stand before Liza and have her tell him to his face she knew they were sleeping together.
“As we are, in confidence, aware that your priorities are perhaps a bit skewed, shall we go ahead and start with a review of your mysterious companion's test results? Hammering down the irrefutable facts found within these files will, I strongly believe, lubricate further discussion.”
Well... Considering she knows we're more than friendly acquainted already, it would be pointless to keep up the charade while we're here. Alucard closed his eyes for a brief moment to gather himself before openly deferring to Trevor. He was no longer an Ambassador asking for the opinion of a constituent, but a lover seeking how best to see to accommodate his partner's comfort. “What say you, Trevor? Are you ready to hear the results of your pain and suffering from yesterday?”
Eliza of course did take notice of the change in his demeanour. Her piercing eyes widening a fraction as she oversaw the aloof and untouchable Demon Prince shed his crown to become but a normal man acting out of love and consideration for the one he treasured. She watched stoic Trevor in tune soften slightly in response, and give the Dhampyre a single nod, Arctic blues following as the Hunter dutifully shadowed Alucard to take a seat before her desk and receive the thick document package and accompanying USB drive. Trevor's results, without a doubt.
“I am glad you've elected to take a seat, as this will take some time to get through.” Eliza informed them as she returned to her own to fire up the overhead display descending down behind her.
Alucard stole a glance at Trevor who seemed too distracted by the movement behind the Director to notice. There were a few small pulls at the seams growing in his outward disguise, which made Alucard wish for yet another time in recent memory that he was as adept at reading auras as Joachim was. No price would be too high to just know what exactly Trevor was thinking or feeling as this conversation developed. Looking forlornly at the mystery to his side did remind him that Joachim had bullshit the demon passport application, and Alucard was now already warned that Eliza was looking for any signs Trevor was influencing him to the negative. The Church had more than enough evidence over the millennia of Desire demons doing very stupid things for the ones they desired, after all. So as Eliza was still setting up all the files she would need to display, he thought it best to start laying the foundations of his excuse.
“Given your awareness of my... Affection... For Trevor, if not for the plain mystery of his being here, I hope you will understand why I wanted to ensure he made it safely back to Romania by any means possible.” There. That could believably sound like he'd had a plan all along and this was in no way a scramble to explain his Vampyre Master's inexplicable decision to register a human as a demon. “I'll have to assume you've confirmed his identity if you have divulged this much and requested this final sample to run.”
“And then some.” The Iron Maiden replied cryptically, but it seemed that their findings would be all laid out for Alucard and Trevor is due time. “It is unfortunate that we do not have Sonia Belmont's blood phylactery as she was a woman in a man's profession in the Middle Ages, but we do have Guillame Belmont, her father's, to compare for ancestral DNA. It is quite surprising, however the profile does prove your claim of identity, Mister Belmont. We have confirmed that not only was Guillame Belmont the grandfather on your maternal side, but that you are the ancestor on Julius Belmont's paternal side, as well as the ancestor on the maternal side of Giustina and Yoko Belnades. Your test results have been a newly found link between these two esteemed families, as well. We are still proceeding to test volunteers from the Belnades, Aulin and Renard Covens to see if there are any further links between them and the Belmont clan line. It may turn out that you have quite the extensive collection of grandchildren, great nieces, nephews, and cousins by the time we are done this blitz.”
In the face of this resounding confirmation, Trevor Belmont merely remained still. If not for the slightest bit of anxiousness slipping out on his scent, Alucard would have had no insight to how he was receiving the news. That there was an airy hint to the usual sourness anxiety reeked of could only mean that while wary, there was a bit of relief to Trevor's reaction. For his own sake, Alucard nodded his head, more than relieved himself to finally be free of that niggling little 'what if?' suspicion that at the end of all of this he was going to find out the Trevor beside him was nothing more than an elaborate doppelganger created from his intimate connection to the Castle, and the stones he'd housed for decades. The Trevor Belmont he was going home with tonight to the little mountain villa he'd promised the Hunter centuries ago... Was his Trevor Belmont.
Alucard was glad to have been sitting when Liza confirmed it, as his legs would have no doubt gave in.
Then the warm buzz in his veins turned cold sting as the display behind her brought up a digital copy of the thick report he held in his hands. If Liza felt the need to go over more than just the confirmation that Trevor was indeed Trevor Christopher Belmont recorded in the history books then... Just what exactly had the lab technicians and numerous samples taken uncovered? Perhaps the origin or makeup of the mysterious substance tattooed on his back? Or more insight into the Spell Seal Giustina had discovered?
“There is no sense in beating around the bush, in spite of the fact these results have caused quite the panic and upset in our organization, not to mention shaking some faiths.” The Iron Maiden proclaimed down from on high. “You are without scientific doubt Trevor Christopher Belmont, a direct descendant of Leon Belmont, the most holy of Crusaders. Your direct descendants are responsible for some of our history's most heroic feats against the demon threats, and your family continues to safeguard the holiest of weapons and serve a higher purpose to this very day.”
The silent pair did not have to wait long for the other shoe to drop.
“You are also undeniably the half-human hybrid born between Sonia Belmont and an as of yet not fully understood ancient demon. What we were able to ascertain through eyewitness accounts and tissue samples collected from both yourself and this demon is that it is mammalian, presents outwardly as male, and has a symbiotic relationship with an also still unknown organism. This demon genetic contributor can be placed on the evolutionary line of Desire Demons as of now in the position of the most primordial in that family. This fact, oddly enough, makes you a living piece of taxonomic history, Mister Belmont, and not just an insight into the past due to your seeming time-displacement. You are possibly not only one of the eldest living human-hybrids we are aware of, in company with Ambassador Țepeș, but also carrying the genetic make-up and traits of the eldest living demon to date that we have on file. Pretty fascinating, wouldn't you say?”
“What?” Alucard stopped himself from stammering but still couldn't completely contain his outburst. He'd almost jumped out of his chair just to get a closer look at the genetic marker comparison now displayed on the overhead behind the Iron Maiden.
How..? Could what he was looking at really... Be true? The image of Joachim confidently insisting that Alucard would be thanking him later for going behind their backs to apply for the Demon Passport sprung to mind. The Vampyre had known. Joachim had known all along, and now when it was too late all the little comments he'd made about Trevor started to coalesce... Alucard was a colossal idiot. From day one he should have known something was up. The Vampyre was enticed by the Hunter from the get-go. Not just enticed, but downright obsessed it seemed at times but... Joachim harboured no sexual attraction to humans. The Vampyre didn't fuck his food. How did I never realize on my own? I spent months glued to him when we first met, and all this time since our reunion we've been nearly inseparable. How could I have not seen that he was just like me? Trapped between two worlds who do not want anything to do with one another?
“Were you not aware, Mister Belmont?” The Iron Maiden inquired, hawk eyes tracking who knew what she could perceive off Trevor's frayed but maintained disguise. “I'll assume that DNA markers and genetic comparisons are an unfamiliar topic for one raised only in the sciences of the 15th Century, so please feel free to stop me should anything I am explaining be unclear. Or if you need a moment to gather yourself, should this certain news come as a shock. It has occurred in a select few prior cases where a child unfortunately learned of their circumstances only upon receiving their official papers. It is my understanding that the Ambassador's office has available resources for demons just learning of their heritage, who struggle to accept the truth. The Ambassador can advise to that later.” While her words weren't unkind, they were hardly sympathetic or even considerate of the turmoil she'd just thrust the receiving party into. She briskly laid out the pertinent truth bombs, making it clear whatever reconciling Trevor or Alucard needed to process with such truths should be spared until they were finished with this meeting.
Without waiting for a moment's breath, the Iron Maiden moved along with her brief overview, bringing up three genetic profiles that opened from left to right, displaying Lilû, Trevor, and Alucard's in the same order. Certain genes were highlighted amongst the three profiles in the same soft yellow hue, appearing in the same series of sequences across the board. “Highlighted right now are common Desire demon markers. The Ambassador's profile on the far right has been used for what we consider a 'clean' comparison, as he is a non-standard Moroi of the Vampyre class. We often do use his profile as a control when classifying Desire demons.” Liza explained to Trevor methodically without any pauses for the Hunter to ask her to clarify further if required, as she'd promised. “The most interesting development brought to light is that we discovered something new yesterday about even the well researched genetic profile for our dear Demon Ambassador. Which is these mutations here.” Another set of identical markers highlighted in a soft orange now were brought to focus. “The Ambassador's genetic make-up across these genes differs from that of Vampyres who are turned, and until we ran the comparison, he was the only Moroi Vampyre hybrid we'd seen these... Until we found identical matches in the Primordial Demon as well as yourself, Mister Belmont. It seems while you are not related biologically in any familial way we can determine with the samples we have on hand, you and the Ambassador do share a common ancestor. We hypothesize that this is the Primordial Demon, but there are just too many missing data elements to confirm, given it is known that Mathias Cronqvist was human and only sired his scion later on as a non-standard Vampyre.”
Forget asking her to slow down for Trevor's sake, Alucard felt he needed the stomp on the brakes for a hot minute. Before he could even part his lips to stop her, his profile was minimized and was replaced with Julius Belmont's. A third sequence across all three of these profiles was highlighted, now a soft blue, shared between Lilû, Trevor and their collective grandson Julius. “These here,” Liza pointed to the highlights. “These are present in all of our Belmont phylacteries starting with Christopher Belmont, Trevor Belmont's firstborn of his twin sons. As we unfortunately never had a sample preserved of the Hunter who was first to defeat Dracula, it had been claimed by the Cardinal's of old that some sort of Divinity had been granted to the Belmont bloodline for their service in standing against the abyssal Dracula. As modern sciences caught up, our revised opinions even purported that this inhuman set of genetic markers were perhaps exactly that; Divine. Some colleagues even referred to this offhand as the 'God Gene', and it was always suspected the secret to the Belmont strength lay in these curious little anomalies.” Liza finally paused here, but only so much as to inhale deeply. She did not sigh, but Alucard felt she would have if she had been alone. “You can only imagine the upheaval this discovery has caused our organization. Belmont hunters have been lauded as God's Champions against the nighthoards for centuries, yet now it turns out after all this time it was not Divinity that ran through their veins, but the Infernal.”
“That is incredibly short-sighted and small minded, but I cannnot claim to be surprised.”
Trevor Belmont's voice, not the demure soft tone Alucard was becoming accustomed to hearing but the grand, confident, near boastful one that had first challenged the Dhampyre to a duel sliced through the room to still not only Alucard, but even the Iron Maiden. His criticism was delivered clean and surgically. As chilled as anything Eliza Levin had ever spouted, and now Alucard could only sit back and witness as two Ice Queens met across the battlefield.
“For centuries by your own account, my family has sacrificed to keep their vanguard on the behalf of people just like you and there were clearly no complaints considering Julius is in your employ six hundred years later. God's Champions, let's not kid ourselves, have always been convenient tools at the Church's beck and call. It was a small burden to bear if it meant protecting my loved ones, and my ego is not so large that I required anything for my trouble but the gold I needed to feed my family for my services. However, now it seems that I have been found to be less than human all along, and suddenly that requires my actions and my services to be called into question? Who are you or your researchers to categorize what is or is not Divine? What authority under the roof of this pompous expression of excessive wealth imbalance – a roof, may I add, built by this half-human hybrid you just labelled Infernal along with me – do any members of your organization have on Divinity?”
“I have offended you.”
“The blatant hypocrisy this institution is capable of has long since been able to offend me. It is simply what I expect of it. I am not offended by your words, nor am I offended by your complete change of opinion concerning my lineage. What actions of mine your history books celebrate and laud have not changed just because it's now come to light a demi-demon was the one who stood on the front lines to accomplish them. Or does it? Shall I look forward to the revised editions?”
“Are you asking for my personal opinion, or that of the Church's, Mister Belmont?”
“You need not speak more than that. As I've said already, I cannot claim to be surprised.”
“I am certain that I am perceiving some hostility from you, Mister Belmont. Am I wrong?” The question came out as if she was asking him for his opinion on something mundane. Paper or plastic? Long sleeves or short sleeves? Coffee or tea? Not at all what was more or less a demand to know if the Hunter was pissed off his favours for the Church seemingly were now worth far less because he had been discovered to be nothing but a dirty, immoral demon.
That part Alucard still couldn't make himself believe... How could they be the same all this time and he never realized? And what was that about Eliza saying they may even share some far flung genetic material? He needed to comb through this document package in hand with a fine tooth comb.
“Yes.” Trevor responded firmly, denying her conjecture. “Five hundred and sixty-seven years later here I am sitting before yet another in a long line of high ranking Church authorities, only to hear that there has still been no development on that front. You are still happy to benefit from Belmont blood, sweat and tears until your problems are neatly tidied and it's time to place us back on the shelf once we are inconvenient tools to keep on hand. I cannot be angry at such a persistent and fundamental flaw after all these years. I can only be disillusioned.” The Hunter leaned back with an elbow thrown over the back of his chair, openly studying the Iron Maiden from the part of her visible from the desk up to the diamond hair-clips in her tightly pinned coif. “I mean no disrespect to your station, Madame Directrice, when I say that you are quite beautiful to look upon.”
This pivot caused Alucard to openly choke.
Trevor seemed to pay him no mind and continued. “My grandchild confessed to loving you, so I must believe that you are more than what you are showing me right now. I trust Julius' assessment of your character. I can only assume that your attempt to goad me and test my patience is simply a part of your job, and I respect people who are just trying to do their duty, however unpleasant I may find it. I apologize for my overt disdain. It is not directed at your person, only the policies you are duty bound to uphold. However your organization decides to paint me, my legacy, or my children under this sinful discovery, I'll live with it. My ego is not so large, I've also already stated. I just ask that if you love my grandson as much as he claims to adore you, you will let him go freely and with his dignity when your so called Board of Directors is done hiding behind him.”
“You were indeed not aware of your lineage then, I see.” Eliza surmised in a nonplussed way. If she felt in any way chastened or irate about Trevor's utter disregard for the powerful station she held, she gave no signs of that. In the face of such an open dressing down, the only thing she seemed to care about was that Trevor had not known the Lilû was in no uncertain terms confirmed to be his biological father.
The reason Sonya Belmont had redacted her entry on the demon as Trevor grew up from a boy to a man must have been to protect the son who shared his demon father's face... And his claws. The same reason had to be why she'd insisted he always trim his nails and wear gloves. No doubt if the demon had been around long enough to leave her with child, there must have been others who had seen it skulking about. All it would have taken was one single utterance that the bastard son of a heathen woman who insisted upon doing a man's work instead of her womanly duties to wed and give birth to more of God's soldiers looked like the devil that had been hanging around back in the day... Really. Just one rumour that sparked a vague memory of Lilû and both Trevor and Sonya could have met the same fate as his poor mother had.
Iron Liza's refusal to be goaded herself while she poked and prodded at Trevor to find if any nerves would make him jump, reminded Alucard all too painfully that there was a reason the Iron Maiden was the first woman to hold her current position in such a traditionally orthodox and patriarchal organization. She was just that good at the job. “It was my intention to keep this meeting as neutral as possible given that you have come to us willingly in an effort to help sort out the current situation, and that your relation to three of our best Arcane and Investigational Agents is familial. It is understandable that the news your very existence can be explained away by your late mother's dalliances with a creature of the night might be a bitter pill to swallow. We are not here for you to work through your emotional response to this revelation, however, so shall we continue on with the brief review of our findings? There are a few more bitter doses of medicine I am afraid you will have to tolerate, Mister Belmont.”
“Then I can't imagine why you even bothered to ask about my tender feelings.” The Hunter smiled mirthlessly. “If you are finished seeing how I react to direct insult and challenges, then stick to the facts, Madame Directrice.”
Eliza took the rebuff in perfect stride. If Alucard had been pressed to say one way or the other, he would have hedged his bets on the Iron Maiden's respect for the Belmont Hunter of Legend was only growing.“I was informed that you were not much of a talker prior to our meeting, yet you remind me very much of Julius Belmont right now. IA Belmont does possess a certain sass he seems disinclined to part with.”
“That is an opinion, Madame Directrice, not a fact.”
Point to Trevor, as Eliza simply waved her hand in surrender. “Then please, let us continue without my personal observations getting in the way. To finish up covering your test results at the request of the Demon Embassy, not only have we proven that you are the genuine article you claim to be, but on top of being a hybrid offspring of the rarest and most ancient demon we have ever observed, you are also a confirmed hermaphrodite. We ruled out chimerism from absorbing a female twin, which was one hypothesis.” The three profiles were minimized to now focus on Trevor's MRI images, where clear as day to Alucard, his pretty but otherwise very male presenting paramour possessed what he was fairly sure Eliza was about to confirm were a pair of ovaries. One of them at least, severely underdeveloped.
The Dhampyre simply could not look in Trevor's direction, so he fixed his gaze on that one healthy looking female reproductive organ and clenched his teeth. Did Trevor know what he was looking at? He wasn't so sure the brunette had autopsied any of his kills over his years as a demon hunter, and even if he had, would the brunette have known what he was looking at or how all the parts linked up? Obviously the man knew the bare basics of how babies were made given he'd had four live ones, but the exact knowledge of how sperm and ovulation worked in tandem to create life was only discovered a good three hundred and fifty years ahead of Trevor's last clearly recalled memories.
Eliza was waiting for some kind of acknowledgement, he realized with a queasy apprehension. Oh goddammit, I'm going to have to take this one for the team. Alucard inhaled loudly enough to draw Liza's attention away from the confused smaller man at his side and bit the bullet. “I believe these characteristics can be explained by a closer look at the Primordial Demon called Lilû.”
“Oh?” Interest piqued, icy blue eyes settle firmly on him alone.
“Yes. The Lilû, while outwardly more or less appearing as male, is intersexed.” Alucard explained clinically. “Trevor's existence can speak to it's ability to reproduce as a biological male, but I was presented with an unfortunate opportunity to confirm with my own two eyes that it also possesses female reproductive traits. They function as intended.”
“Not a pseudohermaphrodite? How are you so certain both are intact?”
Motherfucker... Alucard's clenched teeth could hardly be called a smile, but it was the best he could do under the Iron Maiden's scrutiny. “I have had the undesired pleasure of that same creature propositioning me for my own genetic contribution to it's family planning, let's say.” At that very point and time he would have preferred any reaction out of Liza other than her coolly regarding gaze. It made him want to keep talking just to spare himself the agonizingly uncomfortable silence. “A much elder colleague of mine mentioned that in antiquity before the reliable existences of human civilization, the ability to breed broadly was more advantageous than targeted breeding. The basic instinct of a creature as old as Lilû is simply to eat and procreate. Being able to accommodate a wide variety of sexual partners was likely worth the energy expenditure to sow or grow seeds in suiting that end.”
“Than it appears your functional female organ is a feature, not a flaw, Mister Belmont.” Eliza could have been said to muse, but the woman never cracked a smile. “You are overall extremely healthy otherwise. Your heart and other organs are performing at peak levels. Your bone density is curious, as they are lightweight for your frame yet still incredibly resistant. If you look here on your X-rays you can see that you even have extra bones and tendons in your hands, forearms, ankles and feet. We believe this is to help stabilize and distribute your weight when scaling surfaces with the talons you grow. Likely also a feature bequeathed to you from your demon parent, who we have been told is quite the climber.”
There was a deep furrow in Trevor's brow and that growing anxiety in his scent, but otherwise Alucard could not tell what was on his mind. If Liza noticed the change in his demeanour, and it was impossible she had not, she gave not one hint.
“Now, this is the other truly fascinating discovery of the evening.” Was the Iron Maiden's leading declaration as she brought up a a few photos of the tattoo on Trevor's back, a sample labelled as collected from the Lilû, and another genetic breakdown. As Trevor's eyes settled on the marks showing against his flesh, he reached out to slide his hands over a shoulder and feel where the top of the mark was in the photo on screen. Liza did react to this, letting one of her eyebrows lift just a fraction. “This organism is completely unknown. We have only two samples of it, one from your biological father, and one from yourself, Mister Belmont. It seems to be symbiotic based on accounts our agents relayed and how it responds to protect the body it is coexisting with. We did not witness any of that protective response in the lab, unfortunately, but the substance was exceptionally difficult to biopsy, so it does seem to offer that portion of your flesh it covers some sort of armour.”
“How long has that been there?” Trevor hissed under his breath, grey-blues burning a hole straight through the Dhampyre's head.
“I only noticed it the day we landed in Romania. It wasn't there before that.”
“And you were going to tell me when exactly that I now have some foreign substance cohabiting on my person?”
“There was a lot on your mind as is, and we were coming here to have you examined regardless. It did not seem like it was doing you any harm or discomfort, so I just wanted to spare you one more thing to worry about at the time. That's all.” Alucard explained softly. “There was nothing we could have done about it's existence then, or even now by the sounds of it.”
“We are not here for relationship counselling either, Ambassador.” The Iron Maiden informed them emotionlessly. “Our researchers will continue to study these samples and we will send an updated report on any of our findings. If you happen to notice the organism change or grow by all means, please submit a report to aid in identifying it's nature and origin. Now, onto our Chief AIA Giustina Belnades' quick assessment...”
With one final glare and a flash of teeth in his direction, Trevor whipped his head back towards Eliza and staunchly refused to make any further eye contact.
“Giustina submitted a full report for you that you can find in the file I've provided, but the main highlights she pointed out upon first assessment, and once more informed after she had a chance to review your test results are basically summarized as thus. Trevor Belmont is a man of many untapped talents, so it seems. As Giustina has concluded, not only do you have an inherently strong rudimentary sense and control of your aura and potential as a warlock, your more feminine traits have also provided you with just as much potential to harness that family of energy. In short, Giustina believes you could make a powerful witch of yourself if you mentored under her. That's not to discount the natural affinity to the darker arts you share with the Ambassador due to your demon heritage. Three whole schools of magick to pick from if you were so inclined to learn. It is advantageous to have options, after all.”
“A triple threat.” Alucard whistled, out of character for the Demon Ambassador but it was a veiled attempt to get Trevor to glance in his direction. An attempt that failed spectacularly.
“This broad affinity, she speculates, is also providing you with that inherent resistance to all forms of the Arcane, as she's noted.The spell-seal she discovered on your person, much like the inky black symbiotic organism, requires further study. Her report states that the Belnades Coven will reach out to the Ambassador's office to arrange a date for this. Which leaves her final discovery, that also she is requesting you allow her to study further at a later date.” The Director stood from her seat and fetched a small packet she had stored from a locked cabinet, continuing to speak as her focus fell from the men before her to the small collection she was sorting and evidently stamping. “It appears that you are a bit of an essence leech, Mister Belmont. Per Giustina's analysis, unconsciously or not, there is a nigh-imperceptible drain on the essence of living organisms around you that you are absorbing at all times. She claims the drain is so minuscule that there is no overt danger to the organisms within your range of absorption, even for extended exposure. But I thought perhaps you would like to be appraised of the reality that you are consuming others life forces. She believes it to be some form of supplementary power banking, purpose unknown at this time.”
What..?
Before Alucard could gather his wits to ask for an elaboration, Director Levin had stepped around her desk with the packet in hand and was now presenting it to Trevor like a gift. Trevor accepted the offer seemingly in a bit of a daze, opening the envelope to free a few copies of applications and forms for his records, and two very important pieces of ID. An official demon version of the Romanian National Identification number card, and one pristine white Demon Passport, issued in Romania by the embossed flag and registration number under the Church's embossed crest. This was not a temporary one with a expiry date, but the real deal. Alucard watched the Hunter turn over the ID, with particular focus on the white Demon Passport. Over Trevor's shoulder Alucard read the signed and sealed summary of what they had both believed was just a plain simple man walking into this office an hour ago.
Name: Trevor Christopher Belmont
DOB: 01-01-1457
SEX: X
Ethnicity: Demon Hybrid – European Origin
Hair: Auburn/Brown
Eyes: Grey/Blue
Skin: White
Notable Features: Talons – Feet/Hands, Scar – Eye/Face (LEFT)
Height: 172 CM
Weight: 74 KG
Family: Desire Demon
Genus: Lilû
Species: Lilin (Incubi/Succubi)
Sub-Type (if applicable):Albus Lepus
That... That was it. It was done. Joachim had forced his hand with the application and now here they were sat, staring dumbfounded at the uncovered truth that had hidden in plain sight for so long. The Iron Maiden, perhaps with a shred of pity found amongst the paperwork she'd just handed over. graciously waited for the duo to come to terms with what they were looking at in their own time. Alucard's golden irises skimmed the passport over and over but strangely the only thought that floated to the surface was a blackly humorous note that he'd been calling Trevor Belmont an Incubus in jest since damn near the day they'd met and now... There is was. Right on the man's official ID for anybody to read.
Then his mind finally processed the last bit of data. Sub-type, if applicable.
“Albus Lepus.” He grated out, suddenly quite annoyed Joachim's poor excuse of joke had made it onto Trevor's official identification he would have to carry with him for years to come.
“Yes.” The Iron Maiden confirmed immediately, catching Trevor's attention with a single twitch at the corner of her lips. “You did leap shockingly far and high in your combat test, Mister Rabbit.”
“Director Levin...”
“I do hope sincerely that you will continue to collaborate and cooperate with us as we continue to research and investigate the findings made from your tests, and further data we mean to collect about the Lilû, Mister Belmont. If there are any questions about the reports or what is contained within, you may contact our direct line to the lab. The Embassy has this restricted number on file. If there are any insights you would like to add to assist with our investigation, please reach out Mellisandre. It has been my pleasure to finalize your legal registration with the Romanian government and our International Demon Registrar. Legally declared, law abiding demons is plain view of the public will go a long way in continuing to normalize the integration our species. Thank you for assisting with our goal of a future full of peaceful coexistence.”
“Director...” Alucard tried again, in a stronger voice.
“Now... I believe it is time for our discussion, Ambassador. I'm afraid I have some highly classified information to share as part of this talk, so I will have to ask your guest to please wait outside with your bodyguard. Apologies, Mister Belmont.”
Still visibly shaken up, Trevor reached out blindly in Alucard's direction, swatting his hand away to instead snatch at the collated reports Eliza had handed over at the start of the conversation. He still would not meet the Dhampyre's gaze, and barely glanced at the Iron Maiden as he half nodded and made his way to the tall doors. As if on cue the guards posted outside pulled them open and Alucard watched with a pang of his heart as Trevor vanished from his view. He didn't like the state the Hunter had left in at all. Trevor had that wounded and wary scent he'd carried just before running off to hills with Joachim in tow. Alucard truly needed to follow after him... To make sure he was going to be all right. No one else could do that for the poor suffering little thing like Alucard could, because now no one could deny that they were made for one another. They were the same.
“Ambassador.”
The same... We are a perfect match.
“Alucard.”
“What..?” Liza's casual use of his name brought him back to the present. Unlike before, she was now waiting patiently for him to initiate. This was his meeting request, after all.
“You have something important to share with me.” The Iron Maiden helped him along, pulling at the lead.
That's right. I do... I fucked up. I've doomed us all to Chaos. But how to begin? Where did he even start to try explaining how he'd gotten himself into this catastrophic disaster?
Dropping all formality, Alucard spoke plainly and honestly. “Liza, did you ever wonder what happened to the Crimson Stone after Julius severed Dracula's soul from it?”
The catherdral-esque room fell still and silent, and in that long pregnant pause, Alucard watched the Ice Queen Iron Maiden both defrost and shed herself of the armour her post demanded she bear the weight of until all that was left in front of the helpless pleading Dhampyre was the Eliza Levin he'd first encountered as a girl once-upon-a-time. The Eliza Levin that had been open and agreeable to his vision for a cohesive coexistence. The Eliza Levin who met her superiors swords with her silver rapier in Alucard's defence time and time again. The Eliza Levin who, when she'd finally worked her way into the role no woman would have ever been allowed to hold before her Iron Will insisted, had promised would finally help him achieve swift reforms. She'd shared his ideals wholeheartedly back then. It was that Eliza Levin who was meeting his gaze now, tenting her fingers and she leaned against her desk, and asked the most important question she could have.
“What have you done now, Alucard?”
Notes:
I told you all he couldn't MPREG. I would never have done that without a proper tag. You can still trust me, I swear!
Chapter 54: The Road Home
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Church HQ, Wallachia
Julius was still a perfect image of the way he'd looked before Directress Levin's imposing wooden doors had separated them, as if his grandson had simply frozen in place mid-sentence, only to reanimate now that Trevor was stepping back into the expensive looking sitting room. The manner and speed in which his perceptive grandson's brow knit together as it turned out the not so elder man gauged his unsteady gait and tightly clutched envelope of revelations spoke volumes to Trevor's obvious failings to not make a scene or embarrass Adrian, Joachim, the Embassy, or as it so turned out, his... Fellow demons. Bloodshot grey eyes lowered to what he held freely in the hand clutching his documents and narrowed significantly. The passport. That was what Julius was stunned by, then. The current Belmont bloodhound of the Church hadn't been told the dirty little secret. Trevor wasn't exactly certain which way he would have preferred the truth come out, but the gleaming white little booklet said more than enough. While he stood there awkwardly letting Julius take in what pathetic mess of a man was out on display, the former Vampyre Hunter in turn also objectively studied Julius with more than an adoring family member's eyes, or blinded by paternal pride. Trevor could see it in Julius too. That resemblance to Lilû. It was his eyes, red-rimmed and turned down with fatigue or not. They were exactly the same.
This isn't good, Trevor Belmont. He scolded himself, feeling his heart rate begin to pick up as he watched shock and understanding form real time in Julius' expression. Then he remembered the pair of men standing outside the Directress' doors and could note in his peripheral vision how they too were staring wide-eyed at the white embossed passport. Needing to retreat from their gaze, he ducked into the sitting room and pressed his back against the wall beside the silent statue of a Moroi. Screw propriety and appearances, he needed Joachim to calm him the hell down before there was a scene. Julius was already stunned beyond words, would him reaching for Joachim's hand really be the bridge too far? Eyes forward his fingers stretched and laced just as his aura parted to welcome the Vampyre, but what he was brushing up against was foreign and wrong. Trevor recoiled from the touch he'd initiated, looking up in equal parts confusion and suspicion. This isn't Joachim... So... Who is it? What is it?
Before Trevor could jump to any conclusions, the Joachim-like imposter kicked off from it's place along the wall and between the furniture, stretching languidly, and obscuring it's face from everyone but Trevor as it whispered in strangely accented French. “He will be back. Patience.”
Yeah, okay. Trevor nodded, likely failing to school his features. So what now? I am the bastard child between a demon and a demon hunter. I am centuries old. There is a parasite inhabiting my flesh. There's a maybe catastrophically dangerous spell embedded in my head. I am... Well, I am certainly not a man. But I am not a woman like I think she was telling me. So, I am... I... I-I don't know what I am! And to top things off, now Joachim's not even Joachim!? His breathing was picking up again, just as it had on the plane. And just like back then, his vision was fading along the edges for the oxygen slowly leached out as shallow breathing could not replenish it. Irrationally or not, he found himself growing furious with the missing Vampyre who'd abandoned him right when he was needed most. Why even insist on coming if he was just going to have left?
“Hey, let's go somewhere a bit more private, Gramps. We can talk.” Julius' voice cleaved through the growing panic, offering a beacon to guide him away from the dark seas of despair. “Follow me, it's not far.”
It wasn't far at all, the quiet little reading room that one would have never guessed was secreted around a near invisible bend beyond the Directress' office. It consisted of a few posh chairs and side tables, bookcases, and even one plush couch positioned under a grandiose landscaping painting. Everything was just as luxuriously decorated as the rest of this snobbish structure, but at least here, the energy was different. There was a human touch. A human warmth to the space, that Trevor felt drawn to the moment he stepped inside. Funny, perhaps if he'd the time to examine that, given what he now knew about himself. Julius waved them into the room with a small mischievous grin, mentioning in a low voice as Trevor stepped by him that there were no cameras here. This was Eliza's relaxation room. Julius seemed to be waving them towards the couch, so that's where Trevor planted himself, happy to give his unsteady legs a break.
Julius plopped down on the other side once he figured the Joachim Imposter was content to hover against the wall here as well, fixing Trevor with a not unkind gaze. “So...” After a pause to clear his throat, the man just dragged the unmentionable out into open scrutiny. Trevor recalled how his mother would do that, no matter how awkward the topic. It had not earned her many fans. “You are just like the Lilû, right? That's why Sonia Belmont scrubbed her entry on it some time after you were born? 'Cause you looked too much like Daddy Dearest?”
Grandson or not, Trevor should have felt at least a hint of anger. He'd beaten up other boys for implying less about his mother and unnamed father growing up. Being a bastard son of such an long bloodline had always made him an easy target. One time he had knocked out four of Gaspard Lefebvre's front teeth for trying to spread a rumour that his mother had had sex with one of the Farfadets. His mother had been forced to pay restitution, but she had never scolded him for his actions. She had just seemed sad about the whole affair. What made him angry was not Julius' question, but the guilt he felt for giving that boy a long time ago permanent disfigurement for... Telling the truth, it turned out. That's exactly what his mother had done. She'd climbed in bed with a too-pretty demon and now here he was. Standing in the heart of Church country, clearly labelled as an Outsider.
Rather than answer, he let the passport speak for itself, handing it over for Julius to inspect, along with his Romanian ID card. He kept an iron grip on the envelope full of pictures that said more than he was willing to admit right then. Female organs, the Directress had said. He had female organs. But you 'present' as male. What does that even mean? Am I putting on some performance? It sounds like she is saying I just pretend to be one. Like a masquerade. Perhaps an argument could be made towards that conclusion too, but Trevor wasn't particularly in the state of mind nor the mood to entertain that right now, either.
“This was my hunch when I asked you for the hair and blood samples back in the garden house, but I got to admit, it is still a little surreal reading it.” Julius hummed as he thought. “Huh, you're also a 3rd Gender—WHOA!”
Blinking away his own surprise, Trevor looked down at the passport and ID he'd snatched reflexively from out of Julius' hands. Truthfully, he would never even be capable of attempting to explain why he'd reacted so defensively even if someone had tried to torture it out of him. How was a simple ma-- No. A simple... Being, supposed to understand the meaning behind that little X beside his gender on the passport? That he was not man or woman, but a strange new third option or whatever? Something about the way the Directress had revealed his anatomy and how Julius was reacting to viewing it all but convinced him it was not normal, that X. Maybe even... Being an X was something that Trevor Belmont needed to be ashamed about.
“Copy that, Gramps. We'll just move right along past that.” Julius spoke in a calm and reassuring voice, it was just unfortunately having the opposite effect on Trevor's nerves. “Can you tell me what Alucard is in there telling Eliza? He mentioned a stone in my shoe. In all our shoes.”
“...” Trevor's lips parted but he failed to speak for some time. This was harder than he thought. It wasn't that he did not trust Julius, nor did he want to keep anything that his grandchildren needed to know from them. His eyes flicked up to the Joachim Imposter and he just... Froze. Whoever or whatever that entity was, it wasn't his Vampyre, and he didn't know what he could or could not say before it.
“There is really no one listening in here. No cameras. No spies. This is for Eliza and her friends and family to kick back in.” Julius was promising now, in a bid to get him to unseal the lock on his second-hand secrets. “I have napped on this exact couch more times than I care to admit.”
Before Trevor could muster the courage to whisper across the small space between them and hope the Imposter was none the wiser, a boisterous cheer and peel of laughter burst forth from a closed door in Trevor's direct line of sight. From out a room that seemed to resemble a classroom of sorts from, what he recalled from Bible studies, toddled a little brown haired boy, deftly dodging a nanny or instructor – whoever the prim and proper looking flustered woman was – as he made a beeline for the half-turned Julius.
“Mihai, my little man!” His grandson greeted the approaching child just as cheerily as the little boy was calling Julius' name. “He broke out of jail again I see, Ioana.”
The slightly frazzled woman fixed a smile so tight, it could not be mistaken for a genuine article by even a blind man before she responded. “Mihai's mother is such a fan of that self guided Montessori learning she has elected to keep child sized screwdrivers around. Which would not have been so questionable if a certain Madame Director's certain someone had not decided to show the vastly impressionable boy how to pick locks with them.” Her stretched near sneer hardly distracted the men from the loathing in her fired eyes as she glared at Julius. “Now every day nap time turns into hide and go seek.”
“Don't teach him the wrong word for them. They were allen keys.” Julius joked to no affect. “You also can't make a kid nap if they're not tired, right, Mihai?” The boy nodded enthusiastically, climbing into Julius' lap happily with a large picture book in hand, and even more happy to have a stare down with Trevor once he was in place. “It's fine, Ioana. I'll take the heat for this one. Little buddy just wants me to read him a story, I am guessing.” He waved off the woman hemming and hawing, promising that he'd take the child back himself once he got sleepy, and that the woman, Ioana could do whatever it was she was going to do while the boy was supposed to be napping. If Grandma Eliza had any criticisms, she could direct it his way. This at last seemed to get her to agree, and honestly, Trevor was of the opinion she was relieved to be free of her responsibility for a spell. Some people just were not made to handle children...
“Are you Julius' brother?” The small child asked him, the smaller hands bending the edges of his picture-book outwards patched up with three of the blue bandages the Directress had given Trevor. There was virtually no resemblance to his eldest son, but Christopher had also been just as careless about brambles and sharp rocks. Just that one tiny shared trait was enough to tug on his heartstrings.
“No... I'm actually his grandfather.” He replied honestly, which caused another peel of laughter as the child, Mihai, thought this was a funny joke. Because Julius was so old, you see. “Really, it's true.” Trevor found his lips twitching to return a grin as he worked the Romanian ID back out from the pocket he'd stuffed it in. “Do you know how to count?” As the boy nodded, he leaned in and showed his date of birth. “January 1st , 1457. Do you know what year it is right now?” The boy did. “Right, so 2037 take-away 1457 is..? Oh, that's a really big number, huh? I think I need to write that down too if I am going to figure it out.” Which he did, spinning his crossbody around to break out his journal and work through the little equation the long way he'd been taught how with his rapt audience. “Wow, that was hard. I like reading and writing better than mathematics. But, that's five hundred and eighty. And on January first, I am going to five hundred and eighty-one years old. That's pretty ancient, right?”
The little boy still thought this was the funniest joke ever told, this young looking little brother being hundreds of years older than Julius, but as Trevor sat up a bit to put away his ID once again, he could see that the fact he was indeed currently a five hundred and eighty year old man was just starting to sink in for his sixty-ish grandson. It still didn't seem real to him, be it his true age, his lineage, or even his basic biology, but this new numbness was probably a foolish attempt to delay his reaction, which would mean that he was most assuredly going to explode at an inconvenient time, and more than likely while in the vicinity and target range of poor long-suffering Adrian. At least... A child was taking him at his word. Mihai didn't seem to be too bothered by the oddity in the room. The former Hunter latched onto that stable bit of footing for now. At least to a small innocent child, he was acceptable.
“Hey, we have to be friends, don't you agree?” Trevor declared, shrugging out of his gold jacket to turn his arm over and show off the blue bandage. “We're got matching accessories.” To this the boy was very agreeable, thrusting the picture-book into Trevor's hands and asking he read them the story.
“Grandpa's and Grandma's read stories.” The boy reasoned, and as far as he was concerned, there were two grandchildren waiting to be read to.
Hard to argue that logic.
That was how instead of suffering through a long drawn out panic attack, or wallowing in a solitary stifling silence caused by nerves and shame, or bolting tail between his legs from the Church headquarters like a spineless coward, Trevor Belmont found himself in a fragile little bubble of tranquility, reading out loud picture-book after picture-book the Joachim Imposter fetched them with gusto, doing the voices and sometimes even acting out the more exciting scenes with his audience's participation, much to the open and unmistakable delight of Mihai and even Julius.
Somewhere deep inside, he imagined two entirely different little cherubic faces staring up at him as he performed, one Esteé's little image, the other his own little twin. For the first time since he became aware of their passing, it didn't hurt to remember his sons as they were in his memories. He hoped they had read stories to their children with just as much passion... Feeling fairly confident in assuming that they almost certainly had.
As a rather intense tale about buried treasure wrapped up, pen swishing through the air in lieu of the sabre they pretended it to be, Trevor caught sight of his extra audience members watching with matching baffled expressions from the entrance-way to this little slice of serenity. The fragile bubble burst in an instant and all at once he jerked to a standstill, dropping both pen and book, and he may have even blushed going by how heated his face felt under the dual stares of both the Demon Ambassador and Madame Directress Eliza Levin. Julius reacted to his sudden shift in mood, turning a head and then climbing to his feet, happy and chortling Mihai still in his arms. The boy was set down to run to Grandma, and as he had to Julius earlier, beelined in a toddle towards the Directress.
“Did you have fun?” The stern woman spoke fondly to her grandson, while giving Trevor a hard stare over the top of his little head as she hugged him.
In that short time Adrian had stepped to his side, and back to Eliza Levin asked in a low voice. “Did you have fun?”
“...Yes...” Trevor replied just as softly, drowned out to anyone other than Adrian as Mihai confirmed he had had fun himself, forgetting to use his inside voice. Eliza Levin was still giving Trevor a look that made him feel like he had done something wrong. So much so that he bent to collect the pile of books, murmuring about how he would clean up the mess he'd made.
“That will not be necessary.” The Directress stated firmly enough Trevor jumped back to his feet. “Mihai needs to learn that a part of playing and having fun is also that we clean up afterwards. So we can find our toys and books again for next time, correct?” The boy agreed readily. He was quite possibly one of the most well behaved child Trevor had ever witnessed. She placed him down to do just that, and closed their distance. While still stern and distant, there was no edge to her when she spoke. “You are very good with children, Mister Belmont. I thank you for entertaining both mine and your grandsons.”
“It was my pleasure.” He replied softly, politely. This woman whom Julius claimed to love did not intimidate him in any way, but she was still a stranger who'd seen an intimate side of him he was not comfortable with just any stranger seeing. In an attempt to take some of the focus off himself, he turned towards Julius for a bit of levity. “Let me know the next time you need a bedtime story.”
“You'll definitely be the first person I call.” Julius joked back.
“Our business has concluded here, so shall we take our leave?” Adrian cut in, stepping out of the way of the little boy gathering books and placing them in the proper places on the shelves.
Trevor wasn't going to argue they overstay their welcome, especially not after getting caught in an animated performance that had just been for a child's entertainment, not to make a fool of himself. He fell in line, dipping his head and shaking hands as required and following Adrian out on his heels like the best hound a game hunter could ask for. The Joachim Imposter was also quite talented at playing the well-trained hound. If Adrian had any knowledge that the entity who was following them was not Joachim, he certainly didn't make that known for Trevor's peace of mind. The retired Hunter even started to wonder how he could intercept and protect Adrian in the event this Imposter was an actual threat. Or Missy, who met them at the stairs to walk them out to the long car. Loath as he was to stop something from eating the flirty pretty woman who Adrian just loved to be in the company of. But that was a nasty thought, and Trevor knew he should be better than that. Missy was aggressive, but it was aggressively helpful. Adrian had flirted back, too. They both sucked.
Why am I thinking about Adrian and Missy right now? One had to wonder...
There were other things to be preoccupied with. Both Adrian and Joachim had mentioned they were not going back to the Embassy from here. They were going... Home. To the place that Trevor would finally be able to call his home too... One day. Hopefully. A mountain villa in a mountain village, surrounded by humans and demons living in harmony with one another. Adrian's version of a veritable paradise, and the very place he wanted Trevor to live out their days together. How were they going to get there, he assumed someone would tell him shortly. Was the Imposter coming with them..? It seemed like it the closer they got to the stretched out car. The antique key hooked to his bag kept catching the sunlight, as if trying to encourage him. Just as Trevor was getting antsy enough to tug at Adrian's sleeve and ask point blank what the hell the thing that was following them was after all, the back door was pulled opened by a helpful Vampyre in one of those all black suits to reveal that sitting comfortably beside Erinys inside was the real Joachim. He felt the recognition in the gentle energy filling every inch of the interior space not otherwise occupied by Erinys.
Trevor was first into what was rapidly becoming his usual spot next to the bar, followed by Adrian and then the mysterious Imposter. As the door to the outside racket shut firm against the noise and flash photography, the being that had pretended to be Joachim shrank back into not one, but three tiny little red demons, looking like a cross between miniature goblins and someone's drunk uncle after a particularly bruising bar brawl. The Imposter's body, his jacket and pants all separating until they were independent beings, complete with robust sable beards. Trevor had never seen anything like them before.
“Good job.” Joachim complimented in a pleased tone. Quite who he was complimenting was not exactly as clear as one might think.
Either way, before Trevor could even think to ask just what he'd been party to back in there with these three shin-high red garden gnomes, Adrian turned on the Vampyre, eyes bleeding so red, not only his irises turned crimson, but the whites around them as well. A single oval clawed finger extended and were it not for Erinys in between them, Trevor was certain Adrian would have already pounced on Joachim.
“You better start explaining yourself right now. You knew. You knew this whole time and you never said anything? Didn't you think this was something we could have benefited from knowing ahead of time? I almost swallowed my goddamn tongue in front of the Iron Maiden!”
Joachim for his part, looked only mildly put out. “Kitten I don't know how you missed it, when I stated before you both as well as the human pets that my Little One wasn't just a simple man.”
“You clearly weren't obvious enough!”
“Clearly I overestimated your observational skills...” The Vampyre surrendered. “The fact remains I told him right to his face with you all as witness the first time we met, and even attempted to ascertain whether or not he was aware of what kind of creature he was.”
“Obviously, we miss--”
“How much supplementary information did you need, Kitten? I demonstrated before you both that I could connect and know him without requiring to be tethered to him... As only demons can do. You should have been able to figure it out for yourself that night I brought you the crate of champagne, but it turned out you are either resistant or allergic to remembering my teachings concerning demon connections. At that point I could understand the Little One had never been told by his parents what he was, but I was hoping you would be able to break it to him. I did not feel it was my place to up-heave his world when I was little more than a stranger.”
“Seemed like you two had plenty of time to talk about it while I was indisposed.”
“Oh did we? When, exactly do you propose I should have dumped that bombshell on the poor suffering thing? While he was fraught with guilt and shame, despairing at the side of your sarcophagus? Should I have pulled Bunny aside, starved and weakened already, and so emotionally damaged from learning everyone he knew was long dead that the grief stole his sweet voice?”
“Maybe!” Adrian snarled back, red eyes starting to spark and crackle as a light from within lit them up. “You certainly never have any problems telling me uncomfortable truths or opinions to my face. What was so different this time?”
“Do you ever listen to yourself talk, Adrian?” Joachim scoffed with a eyeroll so hard, that it would have put Yoko to shame. “What was so different is that you have had the benefit of me coddling you for centuries. You possess the fortitude to take a slap like that across the face. This one was still in shatters. Unlike you, this one is gentle at heart! Different strokes for different folks, have you heard that idiom before?”
“So you thought infantilizing a grown man was--”
Adrian did not get far into wherever he intended to take this rant, as all at once that reaction preoccupation thus far managed to delay over the whole information overload Trevor had just been subjected to struck with a vengeance. Confusion and dread about those very unknowns overwhelmed him, compounded by the fact his Dhampyre and Vampyre were again at one another's throats. Once more, it was Trevor and his fragile feelings forming the wedge between such old friends. The method and implementation of his care and upkeep the point of contention between the two Moroi demons convinced it was their duty to provide him with such luxuries. Growing dread of a body he no longer understood, that had a deadly magickal seal and housed an entirely separate organism foreign to him in his flesh, all sharing a space he could not recall agreeing to share in the first place. Frightening confusion over what shape everything he'd just learned was supposed to coalesce as. What did all the anomalies make him, in the end? What was an X? Why was he an X? Why did he have parts he was not supposed to have? He was supposed to be a man, right? Trevor had been a husband and father, so that had to be the truth... But I have never felt like one. Not a normal one.
“Enough.” His voice was low, but even he recognized the lethality in his whisper, and the threat of how he would react if the turmoil around him carried on while he scarcely could contain the turmoil within. The last thing Trevor could stand right now was Adrian and Joachim divided.
Even when he knew righteous anger at how they could argue so easily about his care in front of him was warranted, as if he was a delicate bit of china that had no agency to managed himself without threat of crack, Trevor was morosely guilty about why the prevailing emotion he felt was relief. Wanting to let these two stronger, more capable men if not outright resolve his problems, go out of their way to accommodate and coddle him, was juxtaposed and incompatible with his desire to be the best version of Trevor Belmont he could be. Tempting though it was. Oh, how very tempting it was to just let them handle his emotions and roll him up in silk. Is it because I am... an X? Whatever that is supposed to mean. Have I always felt such a dissonance in what was expected of me and I was inclined towards because it is just my nature to be overly soft? On a biological level?
How could one person both want to accept and deny a truth so completely it was seeming to rend them in twain?
The escalating fight successfully stalled out, both Adrian and Joachim's heads whipped in his direction. That made sense. They had sensitive noses and there was no way he did not reek of all the horrible things he was now drowning in. Suffocating in. Truly, without hyperbole. His vision was growing hazy again, in that all too familiar panic and struggle to keep breathing normally as the boundaries pressed inwards. Brevity aside, his lethal tone had spoke volumes. Of course they could smell his despair. It was all consuming.
Fuck it. Fuck this whole day, this whole mess, and every single 'appearance' I have been expected to hold myself up to my whole mother fucking life!
“I am not picking sides just so we are clear.” He growled at both the Moroi. It was important they did not misinterpret his actions to use for fuel later.
With that out of the way, who cared what those three little bearded garden gnomes would see or the green skinned demoness with her pretty pink wings. Trevor launched himself across the car and into Joachim's arms. Did his damn best to fit entirely within the Vampyre's confines, legs folded and curled in his lap, and buried himself in the shoulder closest to the back window. That way there was no one but the Vampyre who could see him, and Joachim only if he made an effort. Yes, he knew that this was a sad cope and eventually he was going to have to learn how to manage these overwhelming anxieties on his own if he ever truly meant to be free of them... Or at the very least no longer a slave to them... But not today. Today he wanted to borrow Adrian's Vampyre Master as his own, and let Joachim sooth away all the ugly, nasty feelings. There may or may not have been a choked cry of relief when those familiar tendrils of energy slotted into all the places they had made themselves home inside his person. A soothing weight pressed against all his nerves so that no matter how they twitched and fired erratically inside him, there was no give. No place for agitation or anxiety to fester.
“Just make it all stop for now.” That was his voice that had begged. He didn't care about that either.
Joachim while being perfectly accommodating and almost cooing at him like he was no different than little Mihai back at the Church, still managed to wrest the envelope full of documents from his grasp and handed them off to Erinys to keep safe. The passport and ID in his pockets were left alone. Everything was quiet as the long car drove slowly through the crowded city streets save Joachim's liquid silver tongue soothing him into an almost dream-like state. Floating there in that ethereal cloud, he finally lifted his head a bit to look over at the three red demons that had taken his vacated spot to give Erinys and Adrian more room to give Joachim and he some space. A fun little domino effect, he noted. They were watching him intently, those three little bearded uncles, and Trevor did hate to be watched like that... Like he was a spectacle. But then again, this time he had all but asked for it. Keeping his head above the water was a suitable reward for his sacrifice.
Eventually after enough time in the Vampyre's soothing hands, Trevor managed to circle back to what he'd meant to ask the moment the Imposter had melted into thee separate entities. “Who are you three, and why were you pretending to be Joachim?”
It was a simple question that was met with a simple answer. “We are Rakshasa.” The one that had been the main body took charge to speak. “Shapeshifters. We were doing the Knight Commander a favour while observing you. We were not familiar with you to make a convincing copy. We think we can now.”
“You are going to impersonate me now?” Trevor wondered out loud, confused. “For what purpose?”
“We are not going back to the Embassy, remember?” In a soft voice, Adrian replied from over Erinys' head. It was a good thing he was tall, or he'd have looked like a talking mop of hair on top of pink wings. “We also can't let anyone know that we are not going back to the Embassy. The Church, the media, any weird stalkers from Seshat Publication... They all need to believe I am going back to the Embassy, and that you have returned with me.”
“Indeed. To that end, I am going to need you all to get changed. We'll send your clothes and belongings through the portal.” The green skinned sightless demoness intoned in her dry raspy voice.
“Portal?” Trevor was even more confused now.
“Yes, the Ambassador never worked out the kinks in the prototype so we are still unable to send biological matter through it. I mean, we can, technically, but it comes out wrong. If you send fruit it will taste like ash on the other side. The various insects and three rats we sent through also did not make it very long, and the Ambassador is quite against animal testing.”
“As you all should be.” Joachim bit out harshly while still cradling and rocking him softly.
“Greater good, Knight Commander. Think of how many lives we could make easier if no one had to crawl through the sewers.” Erinys seemed to halt herself even without the blue winged Marcella to butt in, and threw a dark blue one piece suit of some sort at each of them. “Change. We are getting close to the drop off.”
“I love that slave driver attitude.” The Vampyre purred playfully just as Adrian was groaning out loud about who was the actual Ambassador and in charge around here.
Trevor was shifted down beside the purported slave driver so that Joachim could begin to pull off his outerwear and black suit just as Adrian was similarly divesting himself fluidly in the confined space, as if he'd done it a thousand or more times. Maybe he had. The two stripped right down to their small clothes before slipping on the dark navy one piece suits and zipping them up, Adrian's to his collarbones, and Joachim straight up high on his neck. Now they were all staring expectantly at Trevor with his bundle of blue in hand.
“You will need to change too, Mister Belmont. Believe me that you will not want your nice clothes venturing where you are about to.” The demoness spoke surprisingly patiently towards him, if still dry and raspy.
“I... I can't...” He fidgeted, trying to explain the outdated modesty he was in possession of that was increasingly becoming clear served no other purpose but to trip him up in unexpected situations. It still didn't change the fact that he wasn't comfortable undressing in front of a woman he didn't know, whether she had eyes in her skull or not. Of course he paid the sudden intrusive thought that cropped up that he would now also be uncomfortable undressing in front of men no heed. A problem for another day.
“Mister Belmont.” Erinys gave him that toothy smile she probably thought was nowhere near as sinister as it kept coming across as. “I can make out what clothes you and everyone else are wearing, their shape and composition, as well as details and design. I am also at the very same time aware of the shape and size of everyone around me, without their clothing. My sight is divine, and all seeing. I already know what you look like, covered or bare. I know what everyone looks like, covered or bare. There is no reason to feel shy around me. There is nothing to hide. But if it makes you feel better I can distract myself for a few minutes. Watch me not peek.” She promised, lifting her phone up to fiddle about.
Of course. Divine sight. Trevor sighed heavily and began to undress, asking as he was partway through the shuffle of shame if even when looking at her phone, was it not actually impossible for her to really not be aware of everything around her? What, with this so called divine sight? The wicked grin she gave him as a reply said more than enough.
“You might just be my type, Mister Belmont. I tend to be attracted to you soft and sensitive boys. If Felix and Oscar over here start to bore or annoy you, you know where to find me.”
“Which one of us is Felix?” Adrian wondered out loud, exasperated.
“Obviously, I am.” Joachim quipped in reply. It was argumentative, but in a different and obviously lighthearted way. “You've been gone for years and I am still finding your dirty socks in places that are not the laundry basket, Kitten.”
“That's a weird way to say you're not particularly observant.” Ahh, here was the call-back, only this one made with faux ire. They were playing a game with each other now, if Trevor had to classify it.
“Okay then!” Erinys exclaimed before Joachim could fire off his next retort. It was a shame, really, because Trevor was kind of interested in seeing how Adrian's logic could justify someone else not locating his dirty laundry as being the party in the wrong. It would have been a great distraction to pair with Joachim's soothing aura. “Mister Belmont, the car will be stopping very shortly. Our driver's security shot-gun will be making a quick bank deposit. The car will be above a sewer drain we use often for these kinds of extractions.” She handed him his whip that Adrian had fashioned, as well as a longer dagger to Adrian. “Just in case. This particular route had not been used in a few years.” Came the following explanation. “Now, follow after the Ambassador once we've stopped and the floor slides open. The Knight Commander will follow at the rear to keep you safe. It has been a pleasure to both make your acquaintance as well welcome you into the fold.”
“Yeah... Likewise.” Trevor gave a weak, self-conscious smile in return. “Thank you for everything you've done for me so far... You can also just call me Trevor. I've had enough Mister Belmont for a good long while, I think.”
“Eri.” She extended her hand that he took. “I mean it about Kirk and Spock over here. If you want to bail on them after you've been subjected to their two-man bit ad nauseam, I've already proven I am an expert at extraction.”
“Which one of us is Spock?” Adrian wondered out loud, pulling a heavy metal lid aside once the car had stopped and the floor beneath their feet had indeed slid open to expose the road below. He was hip deep into descending down a narrow cylindrical shaft when Joachim responded to maintain that same playful banter.
“Obviously, I am.” The Vampyre insisted. “I can Vulcan mind-meld and nerve pinch.”
Voice now drifting up from the blackness of the chasm, Adrian's deep laugh was all mirth, void of any sardonic notes. “Yeah, well Kirk was the sexy one. I'll take all my green-skinned babes instead.”
“The only thing you are taking from me is a restraining order if you try it, Ambassador.” Erinys leaned over the gap to threaten. Once she was done ensuring Adrian knew where he stood with her, she waved Trevor on to follow after him down into the dark.
Taking a cue from Julius, Trevor let out a small laugh as he complied. “If I do tire of this ongoing act, you'll be the first person I call, Eri.”
The yawning blackness below was doing it own kind of threatening, unsettling clawing tearing at Trevor's viscera, calling back to the endless agony of imprisonment. It would have been so easy to press against Joachim and insist the Vampyre find another solution. He knew Joachim would, if asked.
That was precisely why he did not, instead steeling his nerves in bravado for no one but himself. A Vampyre Hunter, retired or not, simply could not be afraid of the dark.
It might be your last chance to man up, Trevor.
*****
Experts claimed that smell was the one sense tied closest to memories. Which would explain how the potent stench of the most ancient portion of Romania's sewer systems did bring back a lot of vague, amalgamated, rosy memories. Countless trips through this exact derelict maze of unused piping with so many legally registered demons over the past century all merged into one golden glow. Alucard had always liked to think it was one last crawl through the shit of fringe living to hammer home how wonderful the shower and the village beyond truly was to reach. The precise faces and names of so many may have been lost to him over the years, but their shared sentiments at reaching a safe haven at long last would always stick with the Demon Ambassador.
But something was acutely different about this plunge into the murk and muck.
Alucard glanced up as he descended into the dark, only to have Trevor's shape blot out most of the ambient interior car light filtering down, and had to admit to himself and whatever gods were listening that for the first time making this last leg of the familiar journey... Alucard was terrified of what lay below. So ridiculous, a Dhampyre who was afraid of the dark. If anyone found out about this he would be the laughing stock of the entire demon race across the known realms.
From above a liquid silver voice echoed down, distant and distorted by the acoustics, but clear enough to make out. “The mistake I made when raising Kitten was letting him find out he is attractive. I can see that now.” Joachim was lamenting with Erinys before he too started the slow climb down the ladder.
“No parent gets it correct on the first go, Knight Commander.” The demoness replied, absolving. “I hear the third time's the charm, however. Good luck with our Albus Lepus.”
The grating sound of the manhole cover sliding back into place and eclipsing the minuscule lighting had a finality to it Alucard did not dare to dwell on. Thankfully his feet soon hit damp pipe and brickwork so he was able to step into the connecting tunnel and call up a small ball of Hellfire to stave off the blackness and the accompanying panic all at once. The sound of Trevor's boots tink tink tinking on the final rungs of the ladder had Alucard reaching back blindly with a hand, relieved to feel Trevor's fingers sliding along his palm and lacing into place. They gave their two-squeeze salute as Alucard began to lead his overwhelmed and exhausted Hunter in the direction towards refuge and rest. Even with Joachim coiling up inside him all cozy like the pair had been in the garden home, Trevor's scent was a mess of indistinguishable things, although however nebulous, none of them could be mistaken for positive. It was so heartbreaking, the pained way the Hunter had begged Joachim to help guide him through the palpable anxiety attack, and knowing there was not much that he himself could have done to assist alleviating. It was also utterly reprehensible how sickeningly grateful he was to have this to preoccupy his thoughts, drowning out the guilt of his confession to Liza.
“The tunnels are tight for a bit but they will open up into a main storm drain. The foundation here used to be a graveyard long before Wallachia's borders expanded this far North, so there tends to be a bit of zombie cleanup required every time I pass through. That's what the knife and whip are for.” Alucard explained softly, cognizant of the way the old piping carried his voice.
Trevor did not respond verbally but when out of his own anxious misgivings he gave the hand in his two squeezes, they were returned immediately. That had to mean Trevor was going to be okay. One could only hope so... The Hunter just needed to reach his new home. Once he was safe and secure, Trevor Belmont – Trevor Țepeș or goddamn Ralph if that's what he actually did end up going with – could fall apart, clam up, act out and break things... Whatever he needed. Alucard just had to ensure Trevor was lead safely home.
“Are you aware of how many times I have crawled through this stinking cesspool on your behalf, Kitten?” Joachim's jovial voice bounced oddly along the old cracked clay pipes.
“I can think of no better man I'd want to roll around in rat shit and merman spit with.” Alucard responded over his shoulder, his voice too doing odd things due to the acoustics. His little ball of Hellfire darted ahead to a cross-section where no matter how many times he encountered it, always he seemed to hesitate recalling the correct pathway.
“Left, Kitten. Same as always.” Joachim sighed, but it was without fire or ire.
I knew that... That quip swallowed down, he could tell the wide storm drain was coming up soon, but it wasn't exactly memory of the maze that advised him of such, it was the unmistakable groans and sounds of wet rotting flesh shuffling aimlessly about. Too much shuffling and far too many drawn out moans if Alucard was being honest. The suspicion only resolutely confirmed once he stood on the edge of the current pipe staring out into the tightly packed churning mass of bodies below.
“Holy Hell.” He stated simply, pressing himself to the side so that Trevor could get a good look too.
“That's a lot of undead.” The Hunter agreed, simply.
“It has been several years since we last had to use this extraction route. It was to be expected, but even I am impressed with the respawn rate. The curse runs deep in this place, but still...” Joachim chimed in from behind. “Perhaps this time we should burn the corpses. It would extend the time taken by the rot in the earth that much longer to amass these avatars.”
Before Alucard could agree, Trevor was pulling the dagger Alucard had fit through the belt loop of his coveralls off his person, as well as freeing the whip from it's holster. “Re-kill zombies, got it. Thanks for the knife.” Without so much as another word, the Hunter dropped down into the hoard, his preemptive strike to be a wide-arcing crack of the whip clearing the space required to get to work.
Joachim's hand on his shoulder prevented him from following right after. “That is Trevor Belmont, Vampyre Hunter, Kitten. He will be all right... This may be just exactly what he needs right now.” The silver eyes that appeared almost as white as Giustina's Belnades' in the smouldering light of Alucard's Hellfire lamp, studied the Dhampyre torn between instinct and reason quietly for some time. “If you absolutely must act, than give us more light in this foul place, Kitten. It is... Gloomy down here.”
That's odd... Alucard noted with a frown and a quick check-in with his body to reassure himself that Joachim was not worming his way into his personal business, which was the still the case. Why would the guy with perfect night vision ask for better lighting? Unless... Had Joachim figured it out already? Had he let his apprehensions leak out unknowingly for any old demon to sniff out? Suspicion high, he complied just for the excuse to do anything that wasn't fret about his embarrassing new phobia being exposed. The full scope of the writhing masses below was revealed this way, and while Alucard knew even a small army of walking reanimated corpses would hardly be more than a warm-up for someone of Trevor's prowess, it still felt wrong to stand by and watch him forge the warpath solo. Whether it was for his benefit as Joachim had suggested or not.
“We'll clean up once he makes a bit more headway into the hoard.” The Vampyre decided for them. “While we wait, perhaps you could fill me in on what Iron Spikes for Jesus had to say.”
“I...” The Dhampyre hedged. “Was trying to not think about that.” A deep breath and a long sigh later, he caved and faced the music. “She was to say the least... Overall entirely unimpressed. Sympathetic to my ordeal, but not to the catalyst. Eliza Levin is of the opinion I should have let Julius, if no one else, in on the fact that I secreted the Stones away after the ritual to sever my father from them was completed. She criticized how long we delayed involving the Church once we found out the depth and scope of the Coven's plans, and the anachronistic discovery of six hundred year old Trevor Belmont.”
“As to be expected. They would prefer to have their hands in every demon and demon-adjacent affair.”
“She also grilled me a bit on some names. The other women that were with Estefania; Maja and Midge. I was asked what I knew about an Elder Erwin, who I believe I have seen a few sermons of. I dismissed him as just another new age religious shaman type, but I believe we should have our folks take a deeper dive into that. Eliza didn't tell me exactly how his name had come up in their investigation, nor how Alpha Rhysand came up.”
“That's the rogue mongrel.” Joachim stated dismissively. “Haven't heard from that one in twenty years.”
Alucard did not even bother to correct Joachim's usage of 'mongrel' to manbeast. From what memory served of Rhysand, the Alpha tribesman would have wore the more beastly moniker with pride. To Alpha Rhysand, the beast part always came before the man. “Yeah, that's the one. I believe I saw him last around the same time as you. Hard to believe, but possibly twenty years as well.”
“That would makes sense, for I distinctly recall Alpha Mongrel storming out of our Neath Embassy branch after calling you a cowardly Church apologist as his final words.”
“There was no reason for that reminder... What is it about me exactly that keeps attracting troublesome Welsh guys, hmm?”
“It's the Tylwyth Teg hair, Kitten.” Joachim answered with a smirk splitting his face. “It makes you look submissive and breedable.”
“Fuck off.” He managed to get out through a hearty fit of surprise mirth. That definitely had not been the response he was expecting. “That's a laugh coming from the guy with a waist even more snatched than my short king twink boyfriend down there.” To emphasize he even grasped the entirety of that cinched column of flesh, both fingers and thumbs meeting in the middle. “Do a couple more squats and you might just have the birthing hips to go with this girly waist.”
For one gleeful, glorious and victorious moment, Alucard got to enjoy the rare sight of the elder Moroi completely speechless, and subsequently did not need the light of his Hellfire to know those pointed ears hidden behind a curtain of silver were ruby-tipped. The Vampyre's hands fell upon his as if to remove them, but Joachim seemed to hesitate, silver eyes growing wide at the electric sensation the touch seemed to cause them both. The same electricity Alucard had felt that intimate night in the garden home that was still too raw and confusing to be dwelt upon.
This is... Also odd.
Odd for as much as he wanted to pull away from the buzzing in his veins, there was also an unmistakable predator's instinct rising up from within, insisting that if now he had hold of his prey, it would be foolish to let go without a taste. Dark Lineage continued to whisper in his ear, reminding him how he'd been given the role of Master the last time. That the expression before him was trepidacious, matching the brief perfume that had escaped through the Vampyre's uncertain grip. Predator instinct was to pounce when weakness was bared, and this creature caught in his claws was at this point in time, undeniably... Submissive. His brain had enough sense to stop the thought before he made the grave mistake of finishing that sentence.
“I am average size, for the last time. You are just a giant.” Trevor's flat unamused voice carried over the groans and squelches of the massacred undead, breaking whatever bizarre force had held the two Moroi spellbound.
Joachim gathered himself enough to twist out of Alucard's grip, and Alucard in kind let him go without resistance, even as the faint and fading insistence from the hungry beast within growled and pleaded he not let his catch go free. Not so easily, at least. Not without even a single bite to taste, surely?
Looking fully recovered, the Vampyre's smirk returned in full force. “Bunny is average size, Kitten, and according to him, I am the one with the handsome face.”
“Trevor thinks the Iron Maiden is pretty, so until we get an optometrist to check out his vision, his opinion on whose the more handsome Moroi is not to be trusted.”
Joachim pulled a face at that reveal, and even gave a small shudder. “Moving on... I supposed it is time we should get to work. Bodies to be burned, Kitten, hop to it”
Alucard complied just to have something to move onto and not just because he was being told. To protect their collective noses from the putrid stench being added to ancient sewage swill, they worked in tandem, Joachim surrounding pile and after pile of slain undead with his tendrils of energy allowing just enough of an opening for Alucard's Hellfire to slip in an incinerate the bodies. Then, Joachim lowered and released the ash and vapours into the trickling sewer water to carry away. It would take a very long time with this method of disposal for the rot to reconstitute, he agreed, so they strolled slowly along the trench of sewage, cleaning up after Trevor's economical dispatching. Far ahead of them the Hunter could be seen taking a much more close-range and personal approach to the slaying, and Alucard also had to agree that maybe working out his nervous energy in this fashion had been exactly what Trevor needed in the moment. With so much uncertainty and confusion, perhaps the brunette could find some relief in a familiar pattern, practised and true. No matter what questions about himself he may be harbouring, Trevor's skill and efficiency was above reproach.
“This is nice.” The Vampyre mused. “Team building.”
“I've always wanted to take a romantic walk down a sewage line arm in arm, cleaning up reanimated corpses. Can scratch this one off my bucket list if you indulge me.” He teased, offering his left arm in a courtly escort.
Joachim gave him a strange and dubious look, as it had not been exactly common practice for Alucard to request or initiate casual touch in the last century and a half, but relented, taking the offer. There was nothing like the recent strong shock of current with this physical connection, but Alucard, at least, could not deny there was a flutter of something just below the surface of his skin. Just odd...
A weight fell on his shoulder. Joachim was resting his head there, tucked up against him with arms linked, and Alucard reminded himself that the Vampyre would have been hard pressed making it over to Romania in the time frame he had without suffering a second Lilû attack, when he'd not even fully recovered from the first one.
“Did you stop to eat on the way over here?” The inquiry was made softly, given how negatively Trevor had reacted to the very idea Joachim, and in all probability also Alucard, would seek to sate their hunger with a stranger.
“There was no time. That salacious minx is the kind to play with it's food. I was late enough as is.” Came the straightforward reply.
“Do you--”
“No.” The Vampyre refused, knowing already what he was about to suggest. “I do not devour our friends and neighbours. It's not a good look for the pair of demons who run the joint.”
“That is what the volunteers volunteer for, Joachim. Emergencies.”
“This is no emergency, Kitten.” Stated in such a firm manner, there was no room left for argument.
“All right.” The Dhampyre conceded reluctantly, but went for the lowest blow he could find before dropping the matter. “It would just be easier on my nerves if you took better care of yourself. I need you, Joachim.”
“Spare my nerves and care more for your own well-being, Princeling, and perhaps I will find more time to see to mine.”
Noting the downgrade in pet names, Alucard teased. “You're getting grumpy. You get grumpy when you're hungry.” It seemed his jab was being pointedly ignored, as Joachim simply closed his eyes and worked on autopilot to clear the remaining hoard. “Oh no, did I spoil the mood? We were having such a romantic little date down here too.” Even that blatant invitation to banter was stubbornly ignored, so Alucard threw in the towel and did his part of the cleanup in mutual silence until they stood at the end of the storm drain before a large sealed service tunnel, Trevor Belmont waiting patiently for his next instructions.
“Are all Moroi dates this aromatic?” The Hunter inquired with a scrub of his nose on a shirtsleeve and a hint of disinterest, moving towards the door before either could give a proper response. “I thought this was locked for a moment, but it's just a latch. I suppose even a simple mechanic like this is enough of a deterrent for undead down here, huh?” The Hunter wrenched the rusted bar through it's lock and pulled the heavier even further rusted door open without waiting or asking for the helping hand that surely would have been appreciated. “My lords.” Trevor gave a small bow as he waved them through first.
Alucard grunted and then inhaled deeply, the question of if the Hunter had hurt himself or pulled a muscle in his shoulder given how seized by moisture, corrosion and disuse the metal door had been dying quickly on his tongue as Joachim pushed him to step up through the opening. The Dhampyre turned his head just in time to catch that same Vampyre squawking in surprise as Trevor playfully caught him about the waist and hoisted him up to follow after Alucard.
“Adrian is right; You are skinnier than me here. How is that even possible?”
“I could eat you whole, Little One. You know that, don't you?”
One hand still on Joachim's hip to urge him along, Trevor's flat expression grew wolfish, his grey-blue eyes darkening in the Hellfire light. “Don't threaten me with a good time, Vampyre.”
For the second time that day the ancient Moroi amongst them was left sputtering for a retort, and Alucard was free to enjoy and laugh about it. With Hellfire to guide, they made the rest of the way through an increasingly tighter tunnelling maze set the soundtrack of Joachim grumbling petulantly in his native tongue – something he only did with extreme rarity. It was almost a disappointment to feel the stirring of fresh air approach, signalling the end of the line.
One after the other, the trio clamoured up out of the disused drainage ditch and out into the arctic winter air, made all the more biting due to the damp of the sewers still clinging. Not a big deal for two out of three of them, but Alucard intended to see Trevor home with all his fingers and toes intact, so he hurried the Hunter along with him in the direction of one of many obscured pick-up and drop-off stations. A small structure made of wood and stone that blended into the natural terrain near seamlessly, that opened up into a warm cottage-like interior. Inside was the pile of their belongings in disarray – the warp device did not exactly fold and place the items it folded through space in a tidy fashion – but otherwise all accounted for.
“Take off the coveralls and just leave them here; I'll take care if it. The showers are that way. I will bring your clothes over for you, okay?” He pointed the Hunter in the right direction and proceeded to do just what he said he would, washing his hands so as not to foul their fresh clothes when he sorted and deposited each pile outside a shower stall. Swinging back to remove his own filthy coverall, he threw all three garments in the wash and ran it, even taking a moment to pass everyone's footwear through the boot-wash station by the door. Sewage belonged in the sewer, after all. After all that, he finally thought it best to see to himself.
Feeling like a new man, he stepped out in a towel with intentions to redress only to freeze at the humorous scene of a Vampyre trying to force a Vampyre Hunter to let him blowdry his hair. Joachim had a sound argument; It was cold and going outside with a wet head was foolish. Trevor had a towel, and five hundred and eighty years of evidence to show a towel dry was good enough. Alucard sided with the Vampyre as the tie-breaker, mentioning how they would have to wait for the wash to finish anyway so they could throw the garments they'd used in the dryer, so Trevor might as well kill time indulging Joachim. While Alucard dressed in a leisurely fashion, towel-clad Trevor folded his arms and begrudgingly surrendered to the whims of the fully dressed in familiar blacks and midnight blue Vampyre.
That is the shirt Trevor repaired for him. Alucard noted, catching the gradient blue starbursts hand-stitched, the largest of them placed expertly to form the constellation of Virgo. It was a fitting gift, for if there were any credence to be found in astrology, proof was always on display with that damn Vampyre's neuroses. Poor Trevor not only had to sit for the blow-out but for Joachim to style his hair in yet another gender-blending mid-ponytail, nattering on about first impressions and whatnot while the hunter refuted every point of the debate. Alucard stole the discarded hairdryer and dug out the diffuser attachment, content to enjoy Trevor dressing now in an economical but unhurried pace as he dried his curls. They look good like that... The Dhampyre hummed as he looked the pair over. Dark colours on pale skin, midnight blue leather on one compared against the luminous gold on the other. Silver hair versus bronze. The glint of Joachim's detailed smartwatch face reflecting in the charm off Trevor's choker...
“I am capable of doing that myself.” The Vampyre remarked, hands still working elegant yet subtle flips and plaits into Trevor's mane when Alucard found himself standing over him to dry his hair last.
“I'm saving time.” Alucard lied easily. It's not like he was going to admit they'd looked cute getting ready together and he'd not been able to resist. That was his number one weakness after all; Cute dudes acting adorable together.
The buzzer signalling the wash was complete put an end to Alucard's little salon impression before Joachim's tresses were completely dry, and they broke away to throw wet clothes into the dryer for the next ranger on duty to collect and return, as well as tidy the mess they'd made inside the secret cabin. With only one lone motorcycle stashed in a hidden garage – Someone must have borrowed and not yet returned the missing car and other motorcycle that should have been here – and only one remaining motorcycle helmet, Joachim absolutely vetoed Trevor climbing on the back of a bike with Alucard as the driver, claiming he didn't need the stress of a helmet-less 'Kitten' on his mind, given the dangerous speeds Alucard tended to favour. Which was fine, and not worth getting into another fight over when they were so close to their destination. Alucard had no problem shifting into a bat to follow after the two along the winding and rough forested terrain.
Joachim drove, he was forced to admit, very responsibly given the snow and unpaved trails to be navigated ahead, lengthening the trek to the village outskirts, but ensuring Trevor arrived in one piece, which was ultimately the most important factor. The bike was stored to be exchanged or returned later by whomever it was that got paid to do that these days in yet another small garage, and then finally.... Finally... Alucard took Trevor's hand and lead him under the welcoming arch of this Lost Commune's Southern gate into a still picture of a sleepy, snowy mountainous village.
Trevor took a slow look around at the numerous quaint structures and aeries for the more aerial demons who made their homes here, but his expression was closed off and unreadable as he took in the silent scene.
That's right. Silence. Alucard's own brow knit as he also peered about. Why was everything so...
All at once witch-fire in every hue under the sun was set off skyward in a mock display of fireworks that delighted the Moroi but seemed to make the Hunter in their midst tense up. He gave Trevor's back a few soothing passes with his hand in an attempt to convey there was no danger, his own lips already pulling into a wide grin as old and soon to be new friends flooded out of their hiding places to welcome the party home. The village lights were turned back on, revealing the festivity on display throughout the town square, a Pagan version of the commercialized portion of Christmas, incorporating the old faiths and practices with round snowmen and one jolly fat dispenser of gifts.
“The raging bisexuals are back, everybody!” Claudia, a full blooded Vampyre that had joined them only sixty years ago, called out to a crowd that applauded. “And look, they're multiplying!”
Hardly appropriate considering the smaller children up and about to greet them along with their parents, but Alucard could discuss that with her at a later time. Instead he waded into the crowd eager to shake his free hand or pull him into a hug, arm around Trevor to coax the Hunter through. It seemed like the brunette was considering hiding behind him as he had done when facing the probe-enthusiast, but the Hunter instead stood his ground and gave polite nods of greeting, keeping his hands to himself and shying away from the ones that reached out towards him. With so many different types of demons and levels of comfort or standardized methods of communication gathered in one locale, Trevor's shrinking violet display was smoothly noted and adjusted to by the majority of the townsfolk without bringing it to attention or criticism. How easily they accepted and accommodated the latest addition only cemented what Alucard knew would be true.
Trevor was now in the absolute best place he needed to be.
They meandered through the celebration around the village fountain, stopping before the holiday ice sculptures to toast with champagne and nibble at all kinds of sweet treats their neighbours had diligently spent the day baking for Alucard's grand return. Even the new faces he was just putting names to had heard rumours of the Demon Ambassador's notorious sweet-tooth. Rambunctious children of all creeds darting through the crowds were more than happy for the Hunter to entertain with his little sleight of hand tricks or to jump on or hang off Joachim until the Vampyre chased them off with an obviously fake display of annoyance.
After the polite amount of time and then some had passed for him to properly show appreciation for the welcoming party, Alucard started to slowly weave Trevor by hand through the thinning crowd up towards the tallest jut of stone and soil on the North-Eastern outskirts, where the dwellings became less recognizably human-like and more instead more cavernous burrows and carved out nests. Joachim, who was trailing along after them, tendrils of energy carrying the gifts of sweets and treats received at the gathering, pointed out who and what lived where for Trevor's benefit, but perhaps also for the returning prodigal son as well. Much could change in even a single decade. The Hunter was less than pleased to learn in a large burrow at the bottom of the hill they were climbing was the home of Ariadne, the Spider Queen whose poisonous children protected the surrounding woods from unwelcome guests. Unbothered by the Harpy aeries the higher up they ventured, and equally indifferent to learn of the Manbeast family that had set up on a lower elevation, but still basically next door to Alucard's home.
With one last roundabout the hill like that railroad folk song by Carl Sandburg, the trees and mountainous outcrops cleared, revealing the expansive two-story home and luxurious snow-covered garden hidden in a protective ring of stone, offering all the privacy and safety any world weary traveller could ask for. A veritable heaven on Earth, and one that Alucard had spent far, far too long away from. The soft amber lights dispersing out through the sheer curtained windows a beacon in the wintry wind.
As their boot crunched ever closer to the yellow painted front door, the cheery carved wood was thrown wide open by a tall woman with a fat white-gold braid pulled over her shoulder, waving enthusiastically for them to come inside. She lifted onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on the Vampyre's cheek as he and the cargo wasted no time to slip inside, deciding next that she was tired of waiting in the cold so she may as well trot down the recently shovelled steps in her bare feet to take Trevor by hand and pull him along after her.
“Come in, come in, already!” Leila insisted, using both hands against Trevor's back to force him into the equally cheery interior, following right on his uncertain heels. “Welcome home at last, New Guy!”
On Alucard's part, he climbed the porch steps but paused just before the door, letting the fact that his entire family was all under one roof just... Sink in.
Everyone was... Home. With a warm smile, he tapped his boots to shake the snow from them and made to follow...
Only to have Leila shut the door on his face. It was not even a surprise.
...What else was I expecting?
Notes:
Did you enjoy my in-universe explanation for those never ending zombies? It didn't make sense for there to be that many reanimated corpses unless Dracula's curse (or the Castle's, the veils w/e) was just constantly recycling them in my opinion. Not that corpses reanimating make any logical sense, but this is a fantasy world...
Poor Alucard's got an issue with people slamming the door to his own house in his face of late.
Chapter 55: The More Things Change...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Wallachia, Romania ~ Belnades Coven
Nothing felt as good as returning home after a long sojourn, even the fact that her luggage inexplicably had been completely misplaced when it was supposed to go on a chartered private jet couldn't knock her down off her high. No Sirree, not even the dampest, bone-chilliest winter winds her native Romania could throw at the sorceress was going to leech the warmth in her heart when her sister Lucia flung open the Coven gates together with her newly born daughter harnessed to her chest.
“You had your baby!?” Yoko squealed, dropping her lone carry-on to glomp her elder sister and take a look at the newest Belnades heir. “Oh, Lucia, good job! She looks so much like Bruno; He must be tickled pink. Congrats!”
That was the start of Yoko's true homecoming, with her aunts and numerous cousins coming out of the woodwork to greet and touch her. A half dozen blessings and purification spells apiece were cast, her youngest cousins insisting and arguing amongst themselves on who would have the honour of carrying her bag to her room, and finally her own mother waiting in the antechamber just before the great gathering hall, arms open wide to fold her into the much needed embrace. Yoko definitely cried a little when her mother whispered a blessing into her hair, but then so did Lucia, half her sisterhood, and new little baby Olivia, so it was fine. Everything was going to be all right now that she was on home turf.
While late, her sisterhood had saved their Closing the Day ritual for her to partake alongside, the familiar and informal daily practice immediately washing away all her lingering stresses and anxieties about what lay on the horizon in Tomorrow Yoko's world. A few too many knowing looks from her aunties and elder cousins spoke volumes, and Yoko was ever so grateful to be back where people fully understood her and her needs. Closing the Day was exactly what Yoko Belnades needed this very eve... To close the door on the end of her journey, as well as close off the uneasy energy and negativity of her time in Japan out from the life inside her Coven. Not only a daily practice but in this case, a purging rite.
With her Mama's gentle but firm urging, the children up well past bedtime were ushered in that direction by elder sisters whom were keen to find their own rooms, with even Lucia calling it. Rightly so, with a new baby in tow. There was nothing a new mother needed more than as much sleep as she could fit in around the new growing life in their world. This left her alone with her mother, who sensing her wired energy, bid her youngest to follow into her private chambers and down amongst plush pillows under the guise of reading a fortune. The Matriarch of the Belnades household used a weathered and ancient deck of playing cards in lieu of the more trendy Tarot her cousins preferred, handing Yoko the deck to shuffle and imbue with her energy before handing back.
“You look somewhat worse for wear, daughter.” Her Mama observed casually, still shuffling. “In these past two years you were barely home to visit long enough for me to take a proper look at you before heading back out, but even still, I can see that this last stint was quite trying for you. These injuries, how bad are they?”
“I broke a rib and shredded my hands on a holy silver imbued whip that I helped craft. So... Points to my craftsmanship, I guess.”
“You broke a rib, daughter? How did you do that? Did you reach in and snap it yourself?”
Of course. If Julius was the unofficial Right Hand, her mother was the Iron Maiden's unofficial Left. Eliza would have let her mother, Yoko's listed next of kin, read over the injury expense report, if not outright the whole incident report.
“Let's save us both some time and you can just tell me what you do know?” Yoko offered. “I won't hide anything from you.”
“I would never expect you to without a valid reason, but I would forgive you if felt you needed to because of one. You should know that.”
“You're the best mom, and I am not just flattering you.”
“It is easy when you have wonderful daughters.” The High Priestess returned compliment in kind. “Liza requested a second opinion on the peculiar spell-craft you noted in your incident reports, as well as what Julius reported concerning the spectral-projected creature that seemed to only be able to manifest itself in short bursts around this newly discovered creature, Lilû. It was very fascinating material to peruse...”
“Then you are aware of what happened to Alucard?” When her mother nodded, Yoko threw up her hands. “Then you already know while blind and deaf he mistook my aura for that of his captors... He broke my rib. He would have done far more than that if it weren't for that metaphysical push I got from Joachim Armster through our tether and the physical assist from Trevor Belmont. I'm still here because of those two men.” Breathing in deeply, she corrected herself with no intention to insult or dismiss the very two she spoke of because of the facts. “Because of those two demon men.”
“May I see?” Her mother asked softly, laying out the cards in the first of many arrangements she would need to get the full fortune.
Yoko de-mittened her hands first as it was about time they started getting more airflow to the wounds anyway and allowed her mother to look them over with a very quintessential tsk that only a mother was capable of. The rib wrap was harder to peel open for a peek, so her mother helped with that, again tsking only this time with an accompanying visual wince. Yoko imagined it was hard to see your child beat up no matter their age or how much you understood the risks of their profession.
“You are not angry or afraid of Alucard because of this?”
“No.” Yoko almost shouted reflexively before she contained the force she felt behind the denial. “No I am not, and I do not blame him for what he felt he needed to do to survive. He almost died down there and it was not a sure thing he was going to pull through afterwards.” That being said... “Even still... May I ask you if you can arrange for one of our counsellors to help me work through some things? While I do not blame Alucard, or by extension, the Vampyre Joachim for their actions that night... I did see some fairly disturbing acts and they are keeping me up at night.”
“Of course. I am proud of you for both knowing when you need help and seeking it out.” Her mother's gentle smile faltered a little, as if haunted by her own distant nightmares, and it did not take long for Yoko to have confirmed that was exactly the truth. “I saw him deep in battle during the War of 99, you know.” Clarifying her mother stressed the name. “Alucard.”
“You said you were in a support role and not on the battlefield, Mama.” Yoko folded her arms and straightened up.
“I was, but the battle between the Lord of Shadows and our dear Julius found it's way to us in the chaos of it all. Alucard was steadfast at dear Julius' side, and his ferocity was a match toe to toe, blow to blow, and even bite to bite with his Father's. Until the Master of the Castle changed into the Great Beast, you would have been forgiven for thinking there were two Vlad Dracula Țepeș' that night. As docile as the Ambassador takes great efforts to have himself to be seen, the Scion of Dracula is very much his Father's son. You were very brave to face that, and very lucky to live, daughter.”
“Julius said much the same.” Yoko murmured, toying with the hem of one of her sleeves. “I'm alive because I had help but you know what, Mama? It was me who threw him off. My magick. And if I had to, I know I would and could do it again. So as terrifying as it was to see my friend so lost, confused and wounded like that, lashing out... I learned I will never give up when it counts. So... That's a silver lining, I guess.”
“Each day that passes I find I have less and less wisdom to impart upon you, daughter.” Her mother started flipping over her arrangement of cards, humming as she interpreted the collection before gathering them and shuffling again for the next display. “Lucia had a terrible vision of you trapped in darkness two months ago for a week straight. It frightened her so much she had me reach out to the Church for a welfare check. On the final night before the dark visions ceased tormenting your poor sister there was a variance in the dreams. You were still in darkness, but not alone. There was a brilliant light... Blue, she specified. Steel blue. It cut the darkness for you and everyone else, and then like the steel it reminded her of, it more or less sheathed. It's work was complete, as you all had a way carved to climb out.”
“I definitely have climbed out of a dank-ass hole, Mama, but Lucia's visions are never that literal.”
“They are not, are they? Always allegorical, sweet Lucia's visions.” The High Priestess gathered her cards once again for the third and final configuration. “Were you aware that I have finally had the chance to meet him? Our Coven's first Matriarch did not start a clan all on her own, after all.”
“You met Great-Grandpa Trevor already?” Yoko wiggled in closer to her mother's side and peered up at her almost white irises. “What did you think? Which mood-swing did you get? Was he being all bashful and quiet? He's actually kind of a sublime brat once you get to know him and he's not shy around you. An outright terror too whose got Alucard by the short-hairs. Great Mother Sypha must have been a total badass to wrangle that man, and by all accounts from Gramps himself, she absolutely was.”
That got her mother going, giggling in that reserved way she allowed herself. “The lore and history of our family's past tied to that man is one of the things I am most eager to have him extrapolate for us.” The High Priestess revealed mirthfully. “I found him to be what I was hoping and more, dear daughter. A man with a gentle temperament but an iron will. I am convinced more than ever that it was not Great Mother Sypha's lauded talents alone that have made Belnades what it is today. Tell me daughter, did you not sense the gift in him? It's rare for a witch to not only house both energies in equal strength, but to also possess the talent to hone each of them in kind. That is saying nothing for the potential from his demon lineage, and that does make me ever so curious to behold this Lilû creature that sired him. I do hope our dear great-grandfather is open to the idea of learning more and embracing his gifts.”
Yoko had, in fact, sensed something special about Trevor Belmont when she'd poked and prodded him in the private hospital room half a year ago, but she had not been able to zero in on what it was back then. Her talents had always lay more on the destructive side of magick and it was not until most recently after an impromptu and forced cooperation with a formerly terrifying Vampyre that she had begun to branch out into the other schools of conjuration. The demon had been a hell of a good teacher for someone who was trying very hard not to make it seem like guiding her was what he was doing that night.
“Sounds like you want a new apprentice, Mama.” Yoko shrugged, giving the tether she'd shared briefly one final lingering thought. Perhaps part of Joachim's ice-cream debt for terrorizing her could be converted into lessons?
“If he would be agreeable to my guidance, I'm certain we'd have another protégé in the family.”
“Well, you might have to get in line, Mama. The Vampyre mentioned in all those reports you've read seems to have claimed dibs on the Mentor role, and having witnessed it, Grandpa certainly seems to respond the best to Father-figures. Then again, Alucard said his mother raised him alone so maybe a Motherly figure would work too? If you can wrap your head around mothering your ancestor.” Yoko was now chuckling herself at the very idea. Trevor had shadowed and mirrored her too for a while. “Actually, come to think of it, he did write down in his journal that I remind him of his mother, so maybe you got a shot working that angle.”
“You know better than to read another's private thoughts, Yoko.” The High Priestess chastened. Yoko wasn't exactly in the mood to explain the suicidal particulars of why she'd had to pry into a Dear Diary entry, so she simply accepted her mother's brief disapproval. “I have hand-delivered an invitation to partake of our Yuletide celebrations to Ambassador Țepeș and our long lost great-grandfather. I hope you approve?”
“I was going to ask myself, to be honest. Did they look like they would show?”
“We can only hope.”
“Now that we're on the subject I should mention that I uhh... Also invited Jules.” Yoko swallowed. “And his plus one.” She swallowed again. “Which is the Iron Maiden.”
“Our newest cousin and his long-term girlfriend are welcome, Yoko. Do not feel as if your inclusiveness is to be reprimanded. Equal places at the table is by and large the ultimate goal we are all striving for, is it not?”
“You're right. If we want to show up for dinner at their house, we should not think twice about hosting them here.” Yoko nodded. “I also invited Hammer.”
“Your aura both burns brightly yet softly when you mention him, dear daughter. This man has captured your heart completely, I see.” Her mother delighted in Yoko's squirming affirmation before holding her hands out to ease the self-conscious discomfort. “I would be so happy to have him under our roof and at my table as well for more than the five minutes you've given me here and there to speak to the man.”
“You'll have free reign at the celebration, I promise. He's been dying to just sit down and ask if you'd approve of him to keep seeing me, too. His family is very forward thinking but traditional in the weirdest ways.”
“What if I refused this union?”
Yoko scoffed at the mere suggestion. “That's what I asked. But you know how he responded? He asked me instead if I would still want to be with him if you did say no, 'cause he's just going to ask you to be nice and polite.”
Her mother giggled once more in that refined way. “Fear not, dear daughter. You will not have to make such a decision. I approve already.”
“Funny, huh? I thought he was a complete weirdo the first time we met but it turns out it's because he was just so taken by me. In the end Hammer has really kept me sane through this whole Japan mission.”
“Your father would have approved were he still with us as well. You have a good head on your shoulders, Yoko, so I can only trust your decisions.”
“Best mother ever. Not flattering. Not even a little. Just truth bombs.” The proud sorceress was more confident of that fact than ever. “So what do we have for me, Mama? What's the future got in store for ole Yoko Belnades?”
“Do you want the good news or the bad?”
“Yeesh, really?” Yoko pondered for a bit before throwing up her mangled hands again. “Can I not catch a break or what? I guess give me the bad news first.”
“Very well... I see strife in your life, three times three times three.”
“So three moments of struggling, in three separate events, and each worse than the last.” Yoko folded her arms and leaned in to look at the final configuration as it was still laid out. “In three days, nine days and twenty-seven days? Or three weeks, then nine weeks and then twenty-seven weeks? Or three months-”
“It is never that clear and you know that. And even the three's are just rough estimates it could be three seasons, or three Solstices. But if my interpretation matters, I feel this is months. Three months. Nine months, and twenty-seven months, or two years and a bit.”
“Well, what's life without a bit of a challenge, right?” Yoko shrugged, but noted her mother's reticent gaze. “What? Are you seeing a big struggle? How much strife are we talking?”
“Two of these are significant, yes. Or how I interoperate the cards reveals.”
“We are hunting a very dangerous woman. If we catch her in three or nine months, or even two years later, I can imagine taking her down or into custody will be just full of mayhem and strife.”
“Perhaps.” The Belnades High Priestess surrendered to fate. “For your good news, I am taking Lucia's vision to heart in my reading... You will have strife, dear daughter, but you will have a guardian force by your side protecting you through it. Lucia's steel blue light, I believe. The one that will carve the darkness around you and allow you and every one else to see the way forward.”
“The Sword of Damocles meets is match, I guess.” Yoko joked if only to make herself feel a little less tense about how severe her usually poise mother's face had grown. Surprisingly, her joke caused a spark in her mother's darkening features, bringing an expression of pure awe to the surface.
“Yes... Why yes, dear daughter. I believe your reading is closer than mine. Remarkable how gifted you are.”
Yoko really didn't want to fess up to just playing around and spoil her mother's sudden epiphany so the sorceress remained quiet, hoping her mother would elaborate on this newly revealed thought train. Thankfully she did not have to wait long nor fess up to just talking out of her ass.
“The Sword of Damocles is an accurate allusion to use for the nigh-imminent and ever-present peril you will soon find yourself in. And what to fend off such an attack? A shield, some may think at first, but a shield will only ever deflect and never subdue. The attacks will continue to come and eventually the shield may not be swift enough. So what, dear daughter, do you believe would protect you best in the face of tireless onslaught?”
“Umm...” Yoko sighed and took a stab in the dark. “Another sword?”
That was the answer her Mama had been looking for, going by the proud grin she shared with her youngest daughter. “That's right. A blade of blue to cut Damocles' shadows.” When her mother next swept the ancient spread of cards to the wayside in order to reach out and seize her hands, Yoko could only listen in rapt attention. “Did you happen to notice what colour our dear great-grandfather's eyes are?”
“Grey-blue.” Yoko answered. “Like snow in the shade of a forest canopy.”
“Or the blue of cold steel freshly tempered and polished.” The High Priestess agreed. “I think it is very crucial for you to keep great-grandfather close by, dear daughter. Not just for your own sake, but for the sake of countless others. I believe his safety and survival is paramount to yours. Paramount to... Who knows, Yoko, dear. Who knows what hidden burden rests on that tragic soul's shoulders.”
Yoko stayed silent, ruminating for a long time. Her mother as well, lost in her own whirlwind of revelations and speculations.
It seemed like it wasn't Yoko alone who could not catch a break. There were shadows on the horizon in a three part act, and her prophetic sister and diviner mother's glimpses at the oncoming carnage seemed to all hint at poor Trevor Belmont yet again as the crux. The thing standing between this darkness and the way forward for certainly herself, but quite possibly 'countless others' was by appearances alone, only an average man.
Jeeze, Gramps. Yoko shook her head. No Pressure or anything.
*****
December 2037 ~ Baljhet Mountains, Romania ~ Lost Commune
With widened eyes and a plaintive expression, it was his oldest and most loyal friend who opened the cheery yellow-painted door that had been unceremoniously slammed shut in his face, in order to welcome Alucard inside his own home. Joachim's desperate hiss of the word 'please' was all it took for Alucard to hold up both his hands in surrender as he stepped around the ever tensing body before him to properly kick off his wet boots. Joachim was clearly torn between wanting to stop him from stepping further into the dwelling – as if he expected Alucard to start a fight first thing upon arrival in response to Leila's instigation – while also simultaneously looking just as eager to pull Alucard down into his favourite chair so that the Vampyre could play doting housewife for the evening.
“Ti'n iawn del?” The Dhampyre murmured in Welsh just in case Leila was keeping an ear in their direction, which was hard to believe given how wrapped up she was already in pulling Trevor around after her to give a tour of the upper floor. “Relax, Aur. I had that one coming and deserve a few more in the same vein. I am not angry at her for acting out.” Well the Vampyre certainly looked like he didn't believe a goddamn word coming out of Alucard's mouth, so the Dhampyre shrugged out of his coat, hung it up proper-like just how Joachim's OCD mandated, and then turned right back around to snatch the shorter demon and pull him into an embrace. Things were going to be different this time, and Alucard just had to stay committed to proving it. Eventually Joachim would believe him and stop tensing up every time he was the one who initiated physical touch, and in time, hopefully Leila would follow suit. “I am home, Joachim. Can you believe it?”
The body in his arms coiled so tightly the Dhampyre would not have been surprised to hear Joachim's tendons start to snap like overly-tuned guitar strings, staying that way for a disturbingly long length of time. Perseverance won out, however. Ligament by ligament the Vampyre relaxed in his hold, finally shifting to reciprocate – if not without a strong whiff of suspicion in his scent. However that didn't stop the reciprocation from turning to outright clinging when Alucard finally tried to disengage so – contrary to his usual modus operandi – the Dhampyre remained rooted in place on his own threshold, catering for however long it would take to the sudden need of the elder demon to hug it out. Whatever 'it' was.
It's going to be different this time. He reminded himself sternly. I am a changed, better man. I am the foundation that supports. The glue that binds. The shelter against the storm. The fire in the hearth.
“You are home.” Liquid silver spilled out softly from bloodless lips. Then, uncharacteristically demure and downright sounding flustered, an even softer confession followed. “I have missed you terribly.”
His friend tensed again in his arms almost like a reflex. As if Joachim's reaction were a preemptive bracing to protect himself against what exactly? Was Alucard expected to be callous and dismissive and throw him aside after the demon had shown courage by revealing such an intimate vulnerability?
Actually, yes I am. He reminded himself, shamefully. Old me would definitely be rolling my eyes and telling him we have a group text to scratch that itch. Then telling him to 'Get off me, I need to check the power grid or the air filtration systems', or something to that effect.
That was precisely what old him would do but, again, things were going to be different this time. So instead of whining about how it had been a long trip and about how he just wanted to actually get back to his lab and check on the dozens of things that could go wrong in his absence, Alucard stayed put patiently. He'd barely made it passed the threshold after nearly a decade's absence, but it was completely fine. If Joachim needed him to, Alucard would hug this out all night if he had to, even if he had no idea exactly what 'this' was or where it was stemming from.
“I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. You'll be sick of me in no time, I promise.”
“Impossible...” The Vampyre sighed, almost approaching a laugh. “It will be pleasant to have my Kitten try and see if he can make me tire of his company, I believe.”
“I have it on good authority I can be quite aggravating, so... Your funeral.”
“Ugh, Dad, he'll give you a disease if you maintain sustained direct contact like that.” Leila choked out with an audible gag, now pulling Trevor by hand down the stairs and out towards the closed-in backyard patio on the main floor. “You're going to need one of those bio-hazard sterilization scrub-downs.”
“Hello Leila.” Alucard greeted the scowling woman casting him a look of unmitigated disgust over her shoulder. It was actually an improvement from her outright ignoring his existence, if he was being objective. Objectively, he was also going to ignore the following gagging and strangled noises she made.
Joachim was tense all over again so Alucard reiterated that he was expecting and accepting of her outright loathing and that he was not going to get angry at her for working through her emotions, however vitriolic they manifested. The Vampyre could relax, really. If there was a fight that started, it wouldn't be because Alucard provoked her or responded to her baiting. Rather, he instead decided maybe it was best to take the initiative and half coaxed, half carried the Vampyre over to his usual seat at the modestly sized table and forcefully sat him down. A reminder had occurred right about then that Joachim had barely recovered half his strength lost from the dangerous rescue, Lilû's attack, the vigilance afterwards, and finally the effort expended upon Alucard and Trevor's combined care-taking when the Lilû had returned to strike at Joachim again. To assault him. Yet still Joachim had made the exhausting journey overseas to be here with them. Had come to the Church HQ with them. Crawled through the sewers with them. Participated in their welcome party, even.
“You don't need cup of coffee, you need a bloodmeal. But coffee's all I have to offer you right now.” The Dhampyre explained, finding the beans right where he expected to and the grinder as well. In fact everything was placed how he recalled. It made brewing the perfect pot of Sumatran coffee little more than muscle memory, and he completed the task on autopilot until he was sliding the Vampyre's mug – the one that had a tiny baby footprint of Leila's stamped on the side – over and pulling his own disused chair out to settle in. Sitting at his actual table – antique furniture that he actually liked too! – beside Joachim just made the current reality seem more grounded. He was really home. Possibly for good... Or at least a good long while. Trevor Belmont was being tugged around the family home at current because he was now a part of the family who would be living within these walls. Alucard's whole family was currently under this one roof, which was not something he could have said since he was a child. It was suddenly quite impossible to keep the smile from his face.
“What a novelty.” Joachim remarked, twisting the brew in the sentimental mug that had been made and served all for his benefit. Alucard was usually the one being waited upon, as doing such things had always seemed to bring Joachim some kind of satisfaction or pleasure, otherwise, why would he have always be so keen to do it?
“If you won't feed on an emergency volunteer who volunteer specifically for situations like this, would you take a blood pack? We can warm it up sous vide style to make it more palatable.”
“I fail to see how drinking our emergency medical supplies as a snack – and a foul one at that – is a good idea. Watch me go ahead and drink the one pack of RH Negative blood because it tastes the least foul and then Anastasia go and start hemorrhaging from a poor landing.”
“Can a Shade even hemorrhage?” Joachim was giving him a flat look right about then so he just shook his head and moved on. “So what, then? Going to sneak out in a bit and go hunting in Wallachia? After showing your face all over the Church HQ? Not even you are going to be able to pull that off anymore.”
“Ondol's a better pick anyway. I will not risk causing a stir in any of the nearby towns our people actually work in. Not that I would be so foolish as to be caught.”
Joachim did not exactly look like he had any of those sonic bursts left in him, which meant Ondol was an hour and a half flight away even travelling at a serious clip on bat wings.“I don't like it. You're nearly drained as you were when you passed out on me a few days ago.” Alucard argued. “Please just let me phone a friendly, understanding and discrete volunteer.”
“I can run circles around you yet, Kitten.” Joachim insisted in retort. “This is not up for debate. I have been hunting for two thousand years without issue.”
“Hmm... Are you certain I can't persuade you in another way?” Trevor asked as his hands fell on the Vampyre's shoulders, giving the great demon a rather hilarious start. “I have been practising to hide my aura like you are teaching me, but I doubt I am that good yet. So, logically I can only believe I succeeded in sneaking up on you because you are, hmm... How does the saying go? Off your game?”
Alucard bit his lower lip at the Vampyre's mortified expression but somehow managed to contain the great snort dying to be set free. “That's would be a fair assessment, Trevor Belmont.” He agreed in a deceptively level tone instead. “Our esteemed colleague here is certainly showing signs of exhaustion and starvation that has advanced enough to affect his reasoning. Why else would he think his patiently waiting daughter trying to hide around the door frame to the patio would agree to let him out of sight and into danger in such a state? You're not going to cause poor Leila any anguish after she waited so long for you to come home now, are you?”
“How dare you use her against me like this...” The Vampyre admonished.
“Dad?” The very girl in question poked her head around the wooden finish, clearly loathe to be in the same room Alucard was currently occupying, but so wholesomely devoted to her father she couldn't help but verify with her own eyes the poor state he was purportedly in physically. Reluctantly she closed the distance, but pulled Joachim's chair out and around instead of standing next to the object of her repulsion in the end. “Oh Daddy, you look terrible. You're so pale you're making white-out look beige. Misha was messaging right before you guys arrived. She's probably still around?”
“No.” The Vampyre refused through grit teeth, although his tone was void of any annoyance when answering Leila.
“Why would you need to call for anyone else?” Trevor wondered out loud before leaning forward, subsequently wrapping his arms around the elder demon's shoulders. That way when Trevor spoke next, his breath ghosted the Vampyre's pointed ear, which Alucard did absolutely make note of the fact it flushed red from tip to base before the Hunter had even finished his proposition. “You must be aware you can get it on tap any time you like, Joachim. You just have to ask me sweetly and treat me nicely whilst you do.”
“Fine.”
“Fine?” Alucard and Trevor exchanged surprised glances, as both expected the great demon to put up a fight.
“Bunny already made his case back in Tokyo and I respect his opinion and sensitivity on the matter. So fine. I will once again make use of your... services, Belle Lapin. If you have any more research to conduct, you may disclose your conditions at the appropriate time.” Breathing in deeply, Joachim brought himself back down to a calmer state and waved towards the two vacant chairs at the kitchen table. “Both of you sit down for like... Five minutes. Give me five minutes to just look at and enjoy all three of you in the same space in a state of peace and harmony while I drink my coffee. That shall be the only request I have for all of you.”
“Okay, sure.” Leila folded easily for her father, taking the chair opposite side of Alucard, leaving Trevor the remaining place at the other head of the table. So that was it, then. They all had their preferred seating arrangements sorted out.
“Shh.” Joachim shushed him when he opened his mouth.
“Am I allowed to talk? I am still new here and I have questions.” Trevor attempted.
“No.” The Vampyre replied, taking a long-drawn out sip of his coffee afterwards. “Who knows when I will ever have this pleasure again.” True to his word, he drank the whole mug in what was obviously a blissful state of silence, and only once he'd set the empty ceramic down did he tuck in his chair a little and rest his clasped hands on the table. They each got a measured look before he spoke, breaking the moratorium on sound. “How are you finding it here so far, Pretty Rabbit?”
“It is very lovely insofar as I have seen. Prettier than the video-call was able to show, certainly. Leila elected to allow you the honour in showing me the 'Head' room, and Adrian to show me the lower floor. The lab.”
“Are all the questions you have concerning the 'Head' room?”
Direct to a fault, Trevor freely admitted.“The majority of them, yes.”
“Then save it. That room is deeply personal.”
“Fancy that. I've only just arrived and there's already a mystery to solve. I believe it will be rather entertaining living here with you all.”
“Wait until you see the city, New Guy. A room full of leathery desiccated heads will be the last thing on your mind once you see what Sub-Level One has on offer.” Leila enthused. “You're definitely going to be popular with the usual gang at the bar. Most of the Desire demons kind of gather there, but a few of them are in relationships with other types of demons so it's not a complete Desire clique. I'm an Acedia demon and they have no problem with me hanging around.”
“Acedia demon..?” Trevor mulled over the term momentarily before his eyes widened. “A Slo-”
“Yeah, yeah.” Leila cut him off. “We use Acedia instead of the more commonly known 'Sloth' term these days. When people hear Sloth demon all they think is lazy. Apathy, depression, misery, all that other stuff never registers, and let me tell you, being a Banshee or Wailing Woman ain't no cakewalk. Nothing lazy about being compelled to wail outside the homes of people whose loved ones are dying all night.” Tirade complete, the Banshee in question's smile returned in full force and she waved a hand in Trevor's direction. “So what are you?”
“Oh...” Trevor faltered, patting down his coat to locate where he'd stashed his freshly bestowed ID. Hesitating quite openly as he stared at the two pieces of newly acquired government ID, Trevor reluctantly handed the passport over for Leila to peruse, but stashed his Romanian National Identification number card back where he had pulled it from. Alucard chose to stay silent as Leila was holding a conversation around him and he did not want to upset that at this junction, but he did make note of how uneasy Trevor was to hand over that Demon Passport.
I wish you wouldn't make such a face, Trevor. We're the same, you and I. Can't you see it my way and feel joy in that fact?
“Ahh, another Desire Demon. Then you'll definitely fit right in, although I have to say, I have never heard of a Lilû before. Sounds exotic.”
“It came from Canaan. Or at least, that's what my mother said.” Trevor murmured. “Who knows if that was the truth at this point.”
“Oh, that's right. Dad told me ahead of time to be extra super kind towards you for a while as you had no idea you were a halfbreed until today.”
“Do not call him that.” Joachim corrected softly. “In fact, that term is banned in this household from now on.”
“Okay, sure.” Leila agreed readily. It was always so easy for Joachim with her. “I didn't mean anything by it, New Guy. I am a quarter human too. A purebred mutt right here.” The girl stated as a sort of peace offering, looking back down at the white passport to tap her finger on from what Alucard believed from his angle was Trevor's basic info. “An X here means a third gender, right?” Leila's question was posed to the open forum, as it seemed she looked between Trevor and Joachim for someone to confirm.
Trevor was pulled from his inward facing thoughts, now screwing up his visage as the topic had clearly landed upon something he was not yet ready to discuss. While he did not quite rip the passport from out of her hands, even socially inept Leila got the message to drop the question when he swiped and stashed the document away. “Half a Banshee, and a quarter human. Seems like you are missing something that makes you whole.” Trevor stated instead, returning the subject to the Banshee.
There was a long stare-down before perhaps as some way to apologize for unintentionally or not asking about sensitive topic, the Banshee caved and revealed her own. “A quarter Vampyre.” Leila grit out.
That was the last piece of information Trevor Belmont needed to make the connection. Leila groaned so loudly as his eyes widened passing back and forth across the table from Alucard to the girl, and back again. Like witnessing an oncoming train collision, Joachim gave a sigh of despair as all the components for the inevitable meltdown locked into place. This one was all Trevor's fault. He was too clever and the temporary rush he'd get for nailing down the truth would far outweigh the destructive fallout he may have fathomed possible had he just paused for a mere moment and thought long and hard about why even Alucard would play along and refer to Joachim as Leila's father. What obvious reason could there be for the Scion of Dracula to refrain laying claim to his own flesh and blood?
“Wow, you could more likely be mistaken for fraternal twins, not father and daughter. She's truly just a female version of you, Adrian.”
“Listen, New Guy.” Leila seethed. “I like you so far, and you make my Dad real happy by all accounts. I'm sorry I kinda bumbled into your touchy subject earlier but it seems like you've bumbled into mine now. You've obviously still got to get into learning all the ground rules that keep outright war from bustin' out here, so I'll make this one very clear. What you just pointed out right now? That's a cardinal sin, right there. Never ever call attention to the fact that my sweet mother – may she rest in peace – had a horrible lapse of judgment one night in the sixties and slept with a troglodyte. Clear?”
Things were going to be different this time, he had promised himself. The new man that Alucard had evolved into was going to be the foundation that supported. The glue that bound. The shelter against the storms raging beyond, and the hearth that warmed the home. Honestly. Truly.
“Oh, I see...” Trevor half bowed his head in her direction. “I am sorry...”
“Ugh, by all accounts you seem really sweet and stuff too, New Guy. Hell if I can figure out why you would climb into bed with that egotistical megalomaniac. He's got to have poison in his veins so who knows what he's nuttin' into you. You may wanna get checked for STD's stat.”
In response to this wholly uncalled for and rude remark, Trevor sat back as he too stunned for words. While Alucard had absolutely never taught him that particular crass way to refer to ejaculation, there was no saying Julius or Yoko had not. There was a flush creeping into Trevor's complexion soon thereafter, and the scent of... Shame? Had Leila made his pretty little perfect Prințesă feel ashamed?
Things were going to play out differently this time because they had no choice but to. For far too long had the bonds in this household been stretched thin and strained beyond breaking. It was a miracle the dwelling they all called home still stood. Alucard was the one who needed to instigate this vital change as Alucard knew he was guilty of breaking down the support beams to repurpose elsewhere. The Dhampyre knew he needed to bear this weight while he repaired what he'd torn down. So not thirty minutes earlier he'd promised his very dear and most loyal friend that he was not going provoke Leila this time. Nor would he bite when she baited him as she currently was. The girl had no outlet for her emotional turmoil but to fling it back at him, and he needed only to accept and bear it until she got tired of throwing. She would eventually.
But not an hour into a homecoming she had made the first man he'd ever felt love for feel ashamed of himself, and Alucard couldn't let that slide by.
It seemed that he wasn't that evolved, after all.
“It was not just one night.” Alucard corrected in cold anger, placing his coffee down on the table to better stare down his own flesh and blood. “All night, all morning, all day, all evening, rinse and repeat for the whole nine months she was pregnant with you, and a few years after that.”
“You motherfucker.” Leila's face flushed in a rage.
“Yes, I did fuck your mother, Leila. That's how babies are made. We almost got married based solely on the fact that to date, no one has ever screamed my name as loudly as Aoife.”
“You are a godawful, disrespectful asshole! How can you talk about my dead mother like that!? Why the fuck are you even here!? Everything you touch turns to shit, Alucard, so just go find the nearest pile you last created and wallow in it! I can't believe I have to breath the same air as you again, but at the very least I know you'll get bored playing Husband in a week or two before you'll fuck off like usual!”
Having said her peace, if one could call it that, Leila pushed away from the table so violently the chair toppled, as did the two coffee mugs jump and roll their way to shatter upon the floor. The sound of them crashing only slightly preceded the sound of Leila's bedroom door slamming.
Why did I say those things? Alucard wondered seriously in the ensuing, deafening silence. Could he really claim it was to defend or get revenge for Trevor when it was not even a hundred percent certain what had caused the Hunter to release such a scent? More likely, had he just wanted to react to Leila? Why am I always like this with her?
“...It was a beautiful five minutes I had there.” Joachim genuinely lamented. “I'll always remember that three hundred second moment of serenity.”
“Joachim, I am sorry, I don't know what... or why...”
“Adrian...” Trevor's expression hit him the worst out of the pair. The Hunter looked shockingly as disgusted with him as Leila had while at the same time as if he'd broken the poor thing's heart. That second commingling expression and scent did not exactly make sense given the Hunter knew too little of Leila to feel so strongly about her. “Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș. I recently watched you open up a witch's chest cavity like you were splitting a pistachio shell to eat her heart, and what happened right here is still the worst thing I have ever seen you do. What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you talk to you own daughter like that? About her mother, no less?”
“I really... I just don't know. There's always been something that snaps when she gets under my skin.” Alucard mumbled, bewildered. “Don't call her my daughter. She hates that.”
“You're not fucking kidding. I can't imagine why.”
“I'm sorry I-”
“No, you shut up and just think about what you did to both of them right now.” Trevor went so far as to slap a palm across his mouth to stifle. “Joachim, she was understandably extremely upset. You know her best, what does she need right now? A friend or to be left alone?”
“Time to cool off, certainly. We'll probably not see her for a few days if I am being honest. I just leave food out by her door and she takes it when she doesn't hear this one shuffling around.” Who 'this one' was did not need to be clarified. “Welcome home, Little One.” The Vampyre raised a hand halfheartedly. “I apologize that we could not hold our collective dysfunctions together for even an evening.”
“Hell of a welcoming party.” Trevor stated with a mournful shake of his head. He removed his hand from Alucard's mouth after a minute but only so that he could use it to slap the back of his head, muttering under his breath a single insult. “Asshole.”
Alucard couldn't argue with that, so he stayed silent. Too little, too late.
“Yes well...” Joachim folded over to gather something from the ground by his feet, which turned out to be the seventy-three year old mug that had Leila's baby footprint stamped upon it. It had shattered in three large shards the demon was placing on the table to study. “You will always be on your toes here, at least.”
Again Trevor's expression twisted into outright heartbreak as he too studied the broken mug, and for a moment Alucard could not understand why it affected the Hunter so much.
Until he could.
Trevor and Joachim were, as they always were these days, entirely coiled together metaphysically. Joachim was keeping Trevor calmed and stable in turbulent times but only because Alucard had such great reservations about connecting beyond that superficial level had he not considered that perhaps Trevor was doing the same. Perhaps Trevor was comforting the Vampyre in his own way, by allowing Joachim to share his frighteningly overpowering emotions with at least one person who would not pull away.
That's it... Alucard stood up from his chair but only to go so far as to kneel between Joachim's splayed legs and take his hands. Trevor is emoting for you because you won't. You think you have to hide everything, negative or overly positive, you feel from me because I'll freak out at the intensity. I might still... But I am willing to attempt not to.
“Her footprint is intact. It didn't crack along that, at least.” Alucard began his plea for forgiveness. He truly was trying to be better than this. “I can't fix it as good as new, but I can repair it. Please let me repair it for you?”
“Do not sound so guilty, Kitten. This result was a combined effort.”
“Leila may be a grown woman, but she's still incredibly naive and immature, which I am to blame for. I am the one who should know better and have taken the high road here.”
“Angel is aware engaging in this fashion is a destructive habit. Just as you are aware, Kitten. That knowledge does not ever seem to still either of your hands nor your words. I have always lamented this fact but it was not until this very moment that I realize I have been playing my own part in this destruction.” The Vampyre pulled one of his clawed hands free of Alucard's grip to toy with the shattered mug, tracing the tiny footprint over and over. “This little piece of cheap ceramic meant a lot to me, and I could have caught this mug before it shattered. I could have caught a lot of things you two have hurled at one another over the years before they met similar fates. Yet... I did not. In the past or right now, I did not even try.”
“Joachim...”
“If I allow the things under my care to break without lifting a hand in their defence, am I not just as guilty?”
“Hey...” Alucard reached up with both hands now to cup the sides of an eerily vacant mask. Were it not for Trevor's gut-wrenching features revealing what a flawless actor could hide behind this nonplussed masquerade, he'd have been none the wiser to how much pain his friend was truly suffering by his own actions. “I'll fix it as best I can, all right. This is just... Hopefully...” Shaking his head, he peered up more firmly. “No, this is going to be the last thing of yours that gets broken because of me. I swear.”
“Isn't it exhausting?” The Vampyre asked, returning his gaze. “Making promises you'll struggle to keep?”
“Adrian, seriously.” Trevor hissed from his place at Joachim's side when the Dhampyre's eyes bled crimson at what was completely a fair question on the Vampyre's part to pose towards him. “The truth hurts sometimes. Deal with it.”
“I am angry with myself.” He told the half-truth. The criticism laden question had gotten under his skin, true, but really only because it was so painfully on point.
Evidently having had enough of the ongoing pity party, Joachim stood from the table, his tendrils fetching a broom and dustpan which he entrusted to Alucard to clear up the other mug's broken shards, and sighed a little after correctly guessing the Hunter no longer had an appetite after exposure to carnage. Trevor was scolded lightly about the importance of maintaining his health now that he'd just hard-won it all while being coaxed to follow towards the lift that would take them down to Alucard's lab and workshop. Alucard for his part cleaned up obediently while they went on ahead of him, and carefully wrapped the sentimental mug's shards in papertowel. Finding a box of teabags near empty, he shoved what remained of them in alongside their neighbouring flavour and used the now empty box he had to safely store the repair project that had just jumped to the front of the line.
Only because her room was just off from the kitchen and next to the broom closet did Alucard find himself with a palm placed on Leila's door. He would never dream of opening it, or even knocking. Gentle folk music was playing softly inside which shifted next into an all out love ballad ... The familiar melodies coalesced in his memory and he named the current tune.
I am the Wind.
Joachim had introduced them one day, as the Vampyre seemed smitten with her voice. So smitten was his Master that it had made Alucard curious enough to pursue her as well. Aoife had written that song for him while they both were still caught in the whirlwind start of their relationship. Long before the cracks started forming and the debates became fights. It was impossible for him to point to any one thing that started the fracturing, but by the time the song that tiny Banshee had penned on some scrap paper and while using his chest as the closest hard surface had reach multi-platinum, they were already beyond speaking. Communication was only shouts, sneers, and insults. Aoife had called him egotistical as well. And possessive. That he'd never understood, as he'd never held onto her any longer than she wanted to be held nor had he gotten jealous over her even once.
Leila was flipping through heavy stiff pages, his ears told him. A photo album. He knew exactly which one she was flipping through too.
It was easy to sound remorseful when he spoke to his estranged daughter, for it was a sentiment he felt genuinely. “You are right, Leila. I am an egotistical asshole and have been downright draconian not only with you but even with your father. I should never have said those things about Aoife. She was a talented woman taken before her time and more importantly, your mother. Joachim did love her so as well... I am sorry.”
It was a good thing he wasn't hoping for a response as he would have been left wanting.
The lift down to his private space rattled a little disconcertingly, as if the gear grease needed replacing, which caused him to hold the boxed broken mug more tightly. It would be his luck to have the lift lurch suddenly and send the mug shattering beyond repair. In the end he and the box had come out none the worse for wear as he stepped into the harsh overhead florescent lit space, breathing in the scent of oil, grease, solvents, and metal. The box was deposited safely atop the nearest worktable before he made his way deeper inside the vast space, separated by floor to ceiling Plexiglas, sealed in areas where the space needed a controlled environment, and to keep the dust and debris off others. Tucked in the closest corner to the entrance of the area was yet another Plexiglas cordoned off area, this one a small square space on a lowered platform. This was where he found Joachim and Trevor together, working in tandem to cover the naked mattress in a protector and then rich wine coloured Egyptian cotton linens from out a freshly purchased bag.
That kind of wounded his heart to witness. Making the bed with Trevor in the garden home had been such a small slice of domestic bliss for Alucard that he had fantasized about making the one here. This was their real bed, after all.
By the time Alucard climbed down the few steps into the spartan space, the pair were already smoothing the duvet into place. It was a pattern in black with touches of gold. It was regal and refined, but not exactly to Alucard's preference, as he was kind of a fan of the hotel starkness look as it cut down on visual noise. That preference mattered not one whit when it was revealed Trevor had picked the pattern and colours precisely because he thought it would accentuate the Dhampyre's fair skin while in bed. The fresh image of Trevor tangled up in sanguine sheets waiting for him at the end of a work day springing to mind certainly helped with accepting the change.
“Here, change. It will get even colder once you stop moving around.” Joachim advised, handing the Hunter over a simple set of flannel pyjamas. “The boyfriend shirt look won't cut it down here.”
While Trevor complied, slipping around the frosted partition for the small en-suite bathroom in some coy little display that seemingly was coming out of nowhere, Alucard also divested himself of his suit until he was stripped down to small clothes and frankly, glad to have the cold air cool his body down. Joachim merely hummed when he was thanked for making the bed, which was exactly where Alucard was flopping down upon next.
Trevor stepped out in the flannel set looking a bit lost, but came over to perch by Alucard's side, folding his legs under himself and trading looks between the two demons. “This is warm, thank you.”
“So cuddly looking.” The Vampyre mused, but it was not quite as convincing as he perhaps wanted it to be, as Trevor tilted his head slowly and beckoned the elder demon to also sit alongside Alucard on the bed. “You have had a long day, Little One. Are you certain this cannot wait until you have had perhaps both a solid meal and rest?” While he argued against Trevor's plan, the Vampyre obeyed the Hunter's whims just the same.
“I will sleep better knowing you are not about to expire while my back is turned.” Trevor responded, playful in his own subdued way. The Vampyre was correct, for the Hunter was exhausted as well.
“Very well. Shall we forgo any of your experimentation this time, given the state we are all in?”
“Seems like the wise, if boring, decision. I have a lot of experiments that I would like to try, but, I shall bow to your logic this time.”
“Kitten, you have no objections I take it?”
“Nope.” Alucard found himself replying easily, running a hand up the landscape of Trevor's cozily-covered back. “Just a request that you consume enough to make an actual recovery. You're a Vampyre, not a mosquito.”
“I don't like bugs, so I concur. Don't be one.” Trevor added, unbuttoning the top two clasps of his two-piece sleepwear.
There was a little blush of colour that heated that usual rectangle across the bridge of Trevor's nose as he waited for the Vampyre to make the next move, and Alucard found himself oddly enthralled by the private show. Ahh, he realized soon thereafter, that it was the choker that was the cause of this flustered maiden display. Joachim and Leila had gifted the Hunter a fashionable way to hide the Vampyre's Kiss in both human and demon society, and this was the first time Trevor was having his gift removed for it's intended purpose. By the one who had gifted it, no less. Now wholly fixated on what was undeniably an intimate little scene, Alucard watched Trevor's breath catch as the band and charm were removed, folded with precise care, and placed on the nightstand.
“You will get some solid rest afterwards, Bunny, and I better see you eat a full breakfast. Understood?”
“My usual response to such a demand is to clarify explicitly that I do as I please.” Trevor sighed, the flush growing a little darker. “For some odd reason when you alone tell me what to do, I am inclined to listen.”
Pushing Trevor flat down against the mattress, shoulder to shoulder with Alucard, Joachim's flash of fangs combined with red irises was the only warning Trevor received before the ancient demon fell upon him. The Hunter hissed again, all air, at the sensation, his smaller hand finding Alucard's to hold and squeeze that silent little 'I Love You'. Returning the gesture, Alucard rolled onto his side to watch, gently running his newly freed hand along the brunette's writhing frame as he came to terms with the fact that Trevor would not be letting go any delicious moans this time. They would have to settle for his wet panting as a consolation prize.
The next distraction from his private porno came when Joachim tossed a tissue box at his face. Of course, he realized belatedly, that the Hunter had been so exhausted he'd just surrendered right out of the gate to the Kiss. He was close to making a mess of his brand new pyjamas, and maybe even the brand new bedding. It was a pet peeve of Joachim's to have new things befouled upon first use. So with a hearty chuckle at both their expenses, Alucard pulled a few tissues free and slipped his hand down below where he could stroke Trevor both to and catch his finish all neat and tidy-like, suitably, as he was a consummate professional whore.
“I thought we had been over this already...” The dreamy Hunter murmured when Joachim pulled away and began to tuck not only Trevor but Alucard under the new duvet snugly. “I need to be comforted after my ordeal.”
To this demand, the elder demon finally laughed. “I will have to make it up to you. Let Kitten do the comforting for now, as he seems keen to.”
“That guy is fast.” Still murmuring, Trevor turned into Alucard and buried himself in the Dhampyre's chest.
True enough, Joachim was already by the electrical panel switching the harsh overhead lights over to the power-saving soft blue strips along the paths to exit, before hopping back into the lift. Alucard wondered idly what he had been so eager to get back to before deciding if it was some sort of summoning ritual or necromancy, then Alucard really didn't need to know the details. Not until he was asked to help deal with the mishaps, anyway.
The Dhampyre had dozed off. Certain of this fact because he'd been dreaming again, and he only slept or dreamt when Trevor was wrapped in his arms. Well, perhaps not dreaming per say, but dreamily reminiscing. He was in a sea of slender bodies, the pungent mix of sex, sweat, marijuana and patchouli as thick as the film cheap whisky and even cheaper beer had left on his tongue. Joachim was helping him untangle from the sprawl of limbs, his hair, memory recalled, short and polished at the time. The elder demon was wearing a light grey suit, quite modest compared to the overwhelming browns and plaid suits that were popular at the time. Even his short coiffed hair went against the new movement, keen on letting it all out au natural.
Joachim in his modest suit and powder blue shirt buttoned high was insisting he had to come over and listen to this vocalist fresh from Ireland. She was in a back room performing for some hotshot American producers at this private party that Alucard and Joachim had been invited to solely based on their chosen glamour's good looks. The Vampyre had not been exaggerating, as her voice was in a word, heavenly. The great demon was so enamoured by that tiny little thing upon the even tinier stage that he completely ignored Alucard's attempts at asking for more information or even simple conversation. Alucard couldn't remember the last time... if ever... Joachim had outright ignored him in favour of another. So he got curious about the Irish woman. The Irish demoness, he later found out. What could be so special about her that could capture his Vampyre Master?
What had been so special about her..? Alucard rolled the thought around in his head, still trapped between the varying layers of consciousness. I have slept with my fair share of women in spite of my general proclivities, but I never pursued and courted one like I did Aoife. I liked her well enough at the start. Not once did I think I was in love with her, however.
“Hmm...” Alucard's eyes popped open, mind turning over and over so that sleep was made impossible.
That was how he discovered he was alone in his bed. But he dare not sit up lest he disturb or distract Trevor. From his vantage point he could see the Hunter was stood at the longest workbench with a scattered pile of documents. In his hands was one of the MRI images the Church had taken. In particular, it was the one that focused on the extra pair of organs a biological male was generally not expecting to find in their body cavity. The right ovary was undeveloped and small, but the left was by all accounts and until proven otherwise, functional. Neither Trevor nor he had consented to the tests that would be able to make that determination for certain. The Hunter stood studying that image in the low blue lights, his left hand reaching between the folds in his sleepwear to touch the area that distressing little female organ lay just below.
Alucard remained as still as the dead watching Trevor pour over the contents of his tests and review. Watched the Hunter separate things into piles he could understand, and piles he would need help, either through books or other resources to make heads or tails of. Watched Trevor grow increasingly distressed, pace the full length of the lab as he read and reread the portions he could digest, and finally at one point drop everything in a scatter on the ground as he crouched down in place.
The Dhampyre was sure Trevor was crying, but he felt that if he climbed out of bed now to comfort him, it would only make things worse for the Hunter. This was a private moment, and it was only because Trevor had nowhere private of his own to be that Alucard had been made privy to this. It brought back the memory of their first night together, after the duel.
Same as that night nearly six centuries ago, Alucard listened to Trevor's tears die out in the darkness.
Notes:
Just a little short one, as I wanted to make sure I got you guys in the door of the Tepes house before Xmas rolled around. I am expecting to get one out before or just after Xmas optimistically, but just in case.
So, now that we're here... As mentioned previously, Leila is a deep cut. Akumajou Densetsu: Shinsei Vampire Hunters had a tie-in w/ Castlevania III which had the descendants of the C3 crew. Layla was Alucard's daughter in that. This was obviously NOT canon to the OG series, but that's where she came from if anyone was curious.
So everyone is safe for now, but not quite settled...
Chapter 56: Day 1
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Baljhet Mountains, Romania ~ Lost Commune
Trevor never returned to bed, Alucard noted sadly, as he lay perfectly still observing the Hunter slowly gather his scattered papers in the dim blue lights and collapse into the nearest vacant chair. The Dhampyre waited patiently whilst wishing beneath his breath that the poor exhausted thing would lay down for even just a short while, if only to give the Hunter's bones a break and nothing else, but those desires were left unfulfilled. So hours later he made a show as if waking from a refreshing slumber and padded his way out to power back on the facility, revealing the whole of the utilitarian space Alucard considered as wholly his own. The cross section closest to the lift contained armoured storage containers in a secure vault, his sparse living quarter and bathroom, opposite an alchemy and research lab. These were connected via the central workspace, containing a drafting table, jewellers table, an industrial sewing machine for handling thick, imbued leathers and an otherwise normal office set up complete with reference materials within easy access. Further down at the end of this central hub was where the power grid for the city and it's various control panels and ventilation systems were housed. It was also where he kept general tools, filters and other such supplies, mechanical projects and repairs, and for conveniences sake, was also where the forge lived.
Everything was tidy and how he recalled more or less leaving these spaces. Obviously Joachim had dusted his bedroom area, and if Dhampyre eyesight was to be trusted at this distance, the control panels for the city looked wiped down, as the Vampyre surely at some point in the last eight years had to cycle the grid. The thought of his Vampyre Master's face suffering through the task brought a smile to Alucard's, as the elder demon much preferred Alucard perform such duties. He'd listened patiently and took notes on how to fill in for the Dhampyre while he was away in case of emergency, but it had been clear he was only noting the steps as a checklist that would not be deviated from nor improvised upon. Joachim's eyes glazed over whenever Alucard tried to explain the specifics of how anything actually worked down here. Hell, he'd have an easier time teaching these functions to Leila over Joachim, if only the girl would spare him a moment to care.
“Did you get any sleep, Trevor? You're looking a little haggard.” His voice was low when he spoke in the ambient noise filled space, but he'd chosen to speak only when he was close enough to place both hands on the Hunter's shoulders and massage them. His muscles and tendons were coiled so tightly.
“A little.” The Hunter murmured back, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. “My mistake was I started thinking over every small detail about yesterday and the previous night's discussion and I guess my mind was too full for any dreams.
“Do you want to go back and try again? I can power down the lights.” Alucard offered, hedging before he added. “Or we could talk about it?”
“Where are all my clothes?” The Hunter pivoted, dodging the questions. “For that matter, where are yours? You're far too distracting without your pants on, are you aware?” This saucy little comment made entirely to distract Alucard from the inquisition winding up was rather successful once Trevor snaked an arm around the back of the chair to hook and pull him into the Hunter's lap.
“You told me the laws of decency were criminal when applied to my person, remember? I'm just trying to abide by your judgment.”
“Well I have changed my mind. I think it's far more dangerous to let other people see you like this. What if they can't control themselves?”
“I suppose you would just have to beat off my numerous suitors and suitresses.”
“Sounds an easy enough task, but I am hoping to live a life filled with less violence than my previous one going forward. So the only other option for you is to put your pants on and tell me where I can find my own.” Following Alucard up after releasing his hold on the Dhampyre, Trevor continued to assail him with questions as he shadowed every footstep. “What is this I am smelling in this main area? And the low wind? It sounds like a giant's breath. And the occasional humming from back over there?”
Alucard could not help but chuckle before answering, leading the Hunter behind the lift and into the storage area – the most likely place Joachim had gotten Leila to have stored their personal belongings sent from the garden home. Beyond the two Moroi, she was the only other person who had access, after all. “Everything should be in here. I don't exactly have the closet space for what I suspect will only be your growing collection based on the spending habits from my bank account of late, so we'll need to figure out something in that regard. The smell is just a byproduct of running the subterranean city from this location. It's grease lubricating gears and fans, water filtration and recycling, and other vital stuff like that. Hence all the Plexiglas dividers amongst the work spaces. Helps maintain the integrity of the lab and keeps aerated gear grease out of my linens.” Fairly certain he'd found a box of Trevor's belongings, he cracked that open and was pleased to have been correct, sliding it over for the Hunter to dig through for fresh clothes. “I'll give you a tour later so you can enjoy all the interesting aromas. Ammonia and bleach from sanitizing the laboratory. General dust from disuse of the facility.” The next box he grabbed was filled with garment bags. Definitely his own. “The low drone is the air filtration and circulation system running as intended. It sucks in fresh air from above ground and pumps out the old. Considering how the city's grown, it's very important to keep the smog risk low. I don't allow any wood, pellet, or coal heating here. It's boilers, radiators or electric. The humming is just the power grid struggling as we're sort of always fighting with max capacity usage. Another ongoing and never ending problem. You'd be surprised how much energy a single person uses in a day. We're generating our electricity with hydro power from the subterranean lake and waterways since solar and wind is not an option for visibility reasons but...”
Creeping back into view from where he'd ducked behind some metal shelves, Trevor Belmont had finished pulling on a pair of copper and grey striped pants in a skinny boot cut and paired them with a black long-sleeved graphic shirt that looked stolen right from out of Leila's closet. Fully dressed, the Hunter was doing his best to listen to Alucard's answers, crouched down at his side as the Dhampyre searched for a more casual sweater and slacks combo amongst his suits, but it was clear the brunette was not following along. His grey-blue eyes had that same glaze over them Joachim's silver got whenever Alucard tried to explain how to rewire a burnt-out circuit or redirect the plumbing to repair a clogged section.
Best to keep explanations of this sort short and sweet, then. “This is the heart and lungs of the city. What you hear and smell is it beating and breathing. As I make some repairs and clean up the work spaces I haven't used in a while, the air in here will clear up significantly.”
“Oh, okay.” Trevor nodded, satisfied with the easier breakdown.
“Let's go get some breakfast in you to satisfy Joachim's concerns and then I'll show you around down here more fully. I'll take you down to the the aerial lift too so you can see the city from above to get an idea. We'll visit properly another day, I promise.”
The Hunter nodded more enthusiastically than the visible fatigue from a trying few days and a poor night's sleep would lead one to believe he had the energy for. Just how he'd performed back in the Church's HQ, he was a perfect shadow on Alucard's heels, to such a degree that the Dhampyre stopped short of the elevator doors and turned sharply to put an end to it there and now.
“Look Trevor... You are free here. You don't have to follow me around if you do not want to. And if you so happen to want to, you do not have to follow me so closely, okay? There's no need to put on a show for anyone's benefit in the Lost Commune. We don't have to pretend we're just friendly acquaintances or anything like that. You're just Trevor Belmont and I am Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș – Alucard, to the people outside this household. We can hold hands strolling around town or not. We could share a kiss in front of the village fountain in broad daylight on market day worry free. I cannot stress enough how safe it is to just be the authentic you in your new home.”
“Sorry.” The Hunter lowered his eyes.
“There's no need to apologize. You're exhausted and still on autopilot from yesterday. I hope you'll sleep better tonight once you are able to relax here. You should feel relaxed in your home, right?” Alucard smiled reassuringly as he stepped through the parting doors, waiting for Trevor to follow in his own time before hitting the switch to return to the ground floor. “If there should be any apologies owed, they are mine to give about my contributions to the tension yesterday. I'm certain what happened in the kitchen did not help your nerves or was conducive to establishing an environment you'd desire to settle into.”
“New days are made for fresh starts.” Trevor replied, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself.
It fact, the more Alucard thought about it, the more it sounded like he was parroting the long-gone Sonia Belmont again, and that gave the Dhampyre a moment's pause. It seemed more than plausible given the evidence piled up that when Trevor Belmont did not know what to do or say in a situation, he just responded how he believed his mother would want him to. Alucard... Could certainly relate.
The elevator doors opened up to a thick cloud made of the combined scents of coffee, eggs, butter, melted cheese, bacon, beans and hashbrowns. The bulk of it was ready and only covered to be kept warm. Joachim turned from where he was by Leila's bedroom door, and Alucard caught sight of the girl's half-profile as she snatched the plate from her father's waiting hands and slammed the door shut once their eyes locked. She was still in yesterday's outfit, so it seemed that Trevor Belmont was not alone in the lack of sleep department. The Vampyre made a sighing plea from outside Leila's door that she not leave the dirty dish in her room for days this time and left it at that, his whole demeanour changing from forlorn to suave as he met his 'Bunny' halfway and urged the Hunter to sit down at the table. It seemed the great demon was more than pleased to have a new member of the family to dote on, fetching coffee and sliding a full English breakfast plate under the brunette's nose. Or so Alucard was lead to believe, briefly, until Joachim menacingly reminded Trevor of the conditions for last night's blood exchange. The Hunter was more or less threatened to lick his plate clean.
“Hey...” Alucard greeted softly, slipping in behind the elder demon as he'd busied himself making Alucard a cup of coffee to suit his sweet tastes.
A quick hand out held the mug down on the counter as Joachim tried to lift and present it to him which puzzled the Vampyre just long enough Alucard was able to smoothly pull him into one of those intimate little Demon Kisses. It seemed the last time was not a mere fluke as similar to the one they'd shared in the garden home, it was Alucard once more who took the role reserved for the more dominant demon. The unexpectedness of such an ancient demon submitting to him still filled his guts with nervous and excited energy for it was such an unorthodox upset to the established hierarchy. Whether Alucard was turning the natural order of things on it's head or not, Joachim still let out a faint wisp of his dopamine-laden scent to let the Dhampyre know he appreciated the demon gesture. Which very likely meant that the Vampyre did not see his action as the apology it was supposed to be taken as. Maybe that was for the best in the end. Joachim would have probably refused had he known Alucard's intent, insisting things were in the past. Endlessly perplexing, his transgressions were always so easily forgiven by the elder Moroi who was otherwise so quick to retaliate against any other who crossed him, be their blowouts only minutes or hours ago...
“Your coffee is getting cold, Kitten.”
“Right. Thanks.” He responded, letting go. As the elder demon collected his own plate of food and found his place at the opposite head of the table from Trevor, Alucard caught the Hunter watching him with a raised eyebrow and a quirk of one side of his mouth. The bemused look matched the scent coming off the brunette but there was a whiff of something more primal intermixed, and Alucard's brain refused to put name to what he suspected that was.
“You have not slept, Little One.” Joachim noted bluntly from across the table, catching Trevor's attention. “Endeavour to do so next time so that I may show off my new pet in all your glory. It will be fun to scent the curiosity and jealousy off the others when they catch glimpse of your pretty pelt.”
“I'll do my best.” Trevor dismissed with a sigh, refuting in his own way any claim to purported 'glory'. “Are you going somewhere, Joachim? You have that card holder and your keys in your pockets.”
Bemused himself, Joachim fished both items out and placed them on the table next to his breakfast plate. “Good eye, Bunny.”
“I do not miss much.” Trevor replied honestly before waiting for his answer.
The Vampyre did not leave the Hunter waiting too long for it. “Yes, I go somewhere near every day. Grandmother has scolded me often enough for such wanton restlessness, but I suppose it is hard to change one's nature.”
“You have a grandmother?” This factoid brought the bemused quirk of lips back to Trevor's visage. “Does she live in this village? Can I meet her?”
It was obvious after a few hanging moments that Joachim was hesitant to divulge, so Alucard removed the choice altogether and spilled the metaphorical beans. “Oh yes, he does.” Grey-blue eyes snapping onto the Dhampyre's yellow encouraged. “Before I came to this village with Sypha, it was a much smaller refuge overseen by an ancient and immortal witch we all call the Great Mother. When I was out of ideas on how to search for you, Trevor, the Great Mother told me to find her grandson and ask for his help. That's how we met.”
“So I was the one who brought you two together?” The Hunter folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “That's interesting... It takes a bit of the sting out of what happened to me knowing this was a byproduct, but back to my question. I can meet her? How come she is Great Mother for everyone else but only Grandmother for Joachim?”
“I...” Alucard placed his mostly empty coffee cup down on the table and mimicked Trevor's folded arms and back-leaning posture, yellow eyes trained on the silver adamantly avoiding his gaze. “I actually do not know why you are considered her only grandchild. Or why you still have your own room in her hut, besides needing a place to run off to after we fight.”
“Speculate to your heart's desire, Kitten, as I am not telling you.”
“But Trevor is so curious. Look at his face; He's dying to know.”
Joachim set his fork and knife down in a measured and deliberate motion, freeing his hands up to tent as he pondered his following response. “Grandmother will want to meet with you as she does every new face in the village, so yes, you can and will see her. Soon, I imagine. You will be on your best behaviour in her presence, as she is our Matron and beloved by all. You will not tire her with needless questions either. I hope I have made myself clear, as this is not a request.”
“Buzzkill.” Alucard snorted just as Trevor was nodding his agreement to the conditions in earnest. It was right about then that a white blur of fluff leapt onto the table, soft pads weaving over his mug of coffee in an attempt to snatch a stray strip of bacon off Trevor's plate that the Hunter was only too delighted to let happen. “Ahh, so this must be my replacement I've heard so much about.” He mused, looking over the giant-sized domestic white cat Trevor kept letting eat the scraps from his plate.
“Adrianne, no!” Joachim scolded. “That is too fatty for you.”
About as obedient as cats were known to be, the larger than normal feline only ceased once the Vampyre snatched her from the table top and into his arms, turning her over like he was holding a baby to play with, her clawed paws batting his wriggling fingers.
“You named your cat after Adrian?” Trevor clearly found that more amusing than he should have. After getting up from his place at the table to walk around and crouch down to get a better look at the furball, his eyes passed between animal and Dhampyre several times before he surrendered. “There's no denying the resemblance. Look, she even looks just as off-put by the comparison as he does.”
“She was a stray, however her attitude did make me a touch nostalgic while Kitten was in Japan, so I kept her.” The Vampyre explained softly, torn between the desire to answer Trevor truthfully and his reluctance to implicate himself in any pining behaviour, and shamefully the Dhampyre knew why. Alucard's negative reactions and intolerances in particular over the last few decades had conditioned the greater demon to hide any wants and desires that could be considered clinging or needing.
“She's cute.” Alucard lied, standing himself to collect dishes while locking eyes with yet another rival for Trevor's affections. The white cat responded by pushing her head into the Hunter's palm, successfully pulling a cooing noise from the brunette. All right, game on, fleabag.
“There's no need, I will do that.” Joachim started to protest, releasing the cat to weave through Trevor's legs much to the Hunter's delight as he followed after Alucard.
“No.” The Dhampyre insisted firmly. “Trevor will help me since he's going to need to learn where everything in this kitchen goes sooner or later. Go run your errands.” The logic behind his reasoning was sound, but the Vampyre was not quite convinced, so Alucard doubled down. “He's not a guest in this house, he lives here now. Everyone pitches in, right?”
“I want to help.” Trevor added from the sidelines, swaying Joachim with his earnestness. “Cleaning the house was an enjoyable meditative task back when I had a home to maintain.”
“Do try to take it easy on yourself at least until you've gotten time to settle in, Bunny. You have been through quite a lot recently, and these revelations will take their toll when you are least expecting them. It is permissible to let us help you when it does.” Words of wisdom and warning bestowed upon their newest family member, the elder demon gathered his card wallet, keys, cellphone, coat, and stepping into his boots with more stamps than steps if Alucard was being honest, vanished beyond the door into the setting sun.
Trevor looked momentarily distraught as he rolled the warning and permission dropped into his hands around his skull, but the Hunter steeled himself and fixed a fairly believable smile in place as he waited for Alucard to show him where the dish soap and towels were. Assisting with drying the pans used, he learned where to put which items in their proper place – everything had a proper place and should be returned there and only there, as Joachim would thinly threaten – including learning about a dishwasher and how to unload and load that appliance. Going the extra steps further for Trevor's benefit, Alucard showed him where the cleaning supplies and the broom closet were, so that together they could clean the kitchen from top to bottom under Adrianne's curious and watchful yellow eyes. Trevor was even bold enough to knock on Leila's door and ask through the frame if she was done with her plate with a semi-degree of success. He received the dish and cutlery accompanied by a low huff of thanks in the split second her wooden barrier came down.
Minor victory under his belt, Trevor lead the way back towards the lift, as Alucard had promised to give him the grand tour of the facilities below, stopping only briefly once they were back down in the Dhampyre's domain to fetch a sweater to stave off the persistent chill in the area the Dhampyre never realized was so uncomfortable for non Moroi. Starting in the central hub, Alucard went over the machinery and tools laid out in each of the cordoned off work spaces, delighted that Trevor took a particular interest in the industrial sewing machine as well as the jeweller's table, recalling that they had promised to fashion rings for one another like Hammer had had designed for Yoko. That his little Prințesă was still eager in their engagement to be engaged filled the Dhampyre with that overflowing saccharine sentimentality Joachim would pretend to be turned off by.
Next by way of proximity was the laboratory, which Alucard explained came about one day out of focus on a large part on practicality, such as developing better synthetic fuels or lubricants. Alucard had never intended to be Lisa Fahrenheit Țepeș by choice or circumstance, but after years of random and half blind research piquing his interest, the Dhampyre was beginning to suspect his apple had actually fallen a touch more to the middle than from his father's tree as previously believed. Pathogens that could affect demons were on the rarer sides, and most human medical fields stopped at discovering something had an adverse affect on a demon to be used as a deterrent or biological weapon. There weren't exactly a lot of scientific minds eager to find out which symptoms were caused in which demons, and how to treat or even prevent them. He was eager to gear both of them up in hazmat suits in order to show Trevor the cold storage containing securely preserved biopsies and slides, explaining what each batch had been collected from. What Alucard was cataloguing as he could here was the beginning of what he hoped would one day be the forefront of a robust demon medical system and care database.
...Mostly.
When Trevor's sharp observational skills picked out the nondescript, unlabelled storage unit that was not under the strict lock and key as the other infectious samples, the Hunter's shocked cry as he pulled the bin open to reveal the contents of one of those random piqued interests preceded his panicked collapse to the facility's sterile floors.
“Relax, I can explain.” Alucard spoke as calmly as he was capable of while helping the brunette back to his feet.
“Th-that's a...”
“No.” The Dhampyre stated firmly. “No, Trevor. That is not a infant.” Painfully clear that Trevor could not believe the words coming out of his mouth, the Dhampyre pressed on in that same clinically calm tone of voice. “That is the remnant leftover of a failed pet project concerning the development of a homunculus. It is a biological-based construct made from my own tissue samples, since those are the easiest for me to acquire, but I could never figure out how to create that spark of life. So all my homunculi attempts expire after they use up the essence my tissue imbues them with. I just saved one as a reminder that some sciences are best left forgotten.”
“...It looks like a baby...” Trevor murmured, hugging himself through the thick hazmat fabric.
“Here, I can set it up for a defrost and you can see for yourself it's just an empty construct.” Alucard offered, pulling the carefully encased failed attempt out of the storage bin, unhooking the specially formulated coolant and preservative fluid from the cylindrical capsule the homunculus was housed in. “Takes about an hour to revive them from storage, so I'll show you around elsewhere in the meantime.” Cylinder under an arm, he shuffled the Hunter back through the sterilizing mist between samples and cold lab where they could remove their hazmat suits, and through a glass door to an adjacent space that handled less problematic materials. Here he could hook up the capsule to slowly warm up and purge the preservative fluids, so he did.
“You are just going to leave him there..?” Trevor whispered the question as he was being urged back out into the main area again. The Hunter could not seem to take his eyes off the homunculus' housing.
“I am going to leave it there to reanimate, yes. It's a empty construct with a limited battery life, so to say. Similar to a golem. Imbued essence with no capability to think.” Knowing that once Trevor could see the lifeless void in the homunculus' eyes for himself the apprehensions he had would vanish, Alucard did not spare much more thought towards the growth of tissue samples carefully cultured for naught, instead focusing on finishing his tour.
Trevor did his honest best to stay focused on the breakdown of the machinist shop and small scale fabrication facility where Alucard designed the prototypes the factories below could mass-scale produce from his designs, but it was clear his eyes kept drifting back towards where the lab was located, mind on the 'baby' in the cylindrical housing. Not even the digital display of the air ducts, sewage lines, and electrical grid of the city below on the large control panel could keep the Hunter's attention for very long. There were still a lot of questions Trevor had to put towards him, yet the Hunter seemed hardly capable of fully digesting the replies and information Alucard was providing while his mind was so fixated elsewhere.
Just as well by that point it was likely time to free the doomed construct from it's casing and let nature take it's course. Alucard was keen to prove to Trevor he wasn't some unhinged madman keeping an infant in the freezer, and give the brunette some peace of mind about the discovery clearly eating at him. He coaxed the apprehensive man back to the lab and disassembled the storage device, giving the construct a quick pass under a saline and alcohol mixed wash to get any residue off of it before he plopped the empty vessel down on the table for the Hunter to see with his own two eyes it was just a temporary coalescence of borrowed essence all for himself.
The reaction he got out of Trevor was... Not the one he was expecting.
“Now just look at you...” The Hunter's cooed gently, leaning down to look the vacant vessel in it's empty yellow eyes set in a head full of messy white curls. When Trevor reached a finger out to caress the side of it's round cheek, the construct responded to the stimulation but closing it's small hand around the digit, pulling yet another affectionate noise out of the brunette. “How sweet... Oh, but it's so cold down here, you poor thing.”
“That is not a baby.” Alucard stressed again, watching Trevor remove his sweater to swaddle the biological mass in the fabric and sweep up into his arms. He looked so comfortable and natural balancing the homunculus like some precious cargo on his hip that for a moment the Dhampyre felt the stab of some deep-seated long unfulfilled desire. Centuries ago Alucard was supposed to have found Trevor and returned him to Sypha and their children, which would have been the dawn of Alucard's first second family. Trevor holding Luna, Soleil, and his boys like he was this failed biology project would have been a common sight to behold in their household. This false facsimile was all the more abhorrent because of that painful road not travelled. “I used my tissue samples to make it, and it only has what I put in. It's not alive, and it is only responding to stimuli accordingly, just so you know.”
“He looks just like you.” Trevor said fondly, clearly ignoring the facts he was laying out. “You must have been such an adorable baby, it's no wonder even Dracula was captivated.”
“It was created with my genetic material, so of course there is a visual similarity. It is not a he or even an infant however, Trevor. Please keep that in mind.”
“Did Leila look like this as a baby too?” Seemingly by unconscious habit, the Hunter softly bounced the construct like one would a child to keep it soothed, even whilst simultaneously twisting his torso gently to rock it as he posed his question. The sight of paternal Trevor Belmont in action, as if his sole purpose in life was to care for his young, was doing a whole lot of somethings to Alucard's emotions and libido.
“She did.” Caving into the domesticity on display, he confessed to the truth. “Until she hit puberty and started blossoming into womanhood, Leila was my little mini-me. She shadowed me everywhere and always tried to copy what I was doing. It was sweet, for a time.”
“Leila still looks quite similar to you even now.” Trevor responded, giving him a quick pass of his gaze from head to toe before his focus returned to the homunculus. “When did things devolve into what I saw last night at the dinner table?”
“Around when she was that ten or eleven years old. When her mother was murdered.” That confession fell heavy between them and lay still for an outstretched moment before Alucard corrected himself. “Maybe closer to twelve or thirteen. Before then, Aoife, her mother, and I were not together. We barely got two words in edge-wise before things became a shouting match and let me tell you, I think I built up such a tolerance to banshees cries during that decade I am now immune. Understandably, Leila was devastated by the unexpected loss, so we placed her in therapy for about a year after it happened. Once she refused to go back to her sessions things started to break down between us. Together or not and no matter what their personal conflicts are, parents are not supposed to undermine or tear the other parent down in front of their child, but with Aoife gone, Leila started telling me about then that her mother had revealed that if Aoife could have chosen, Joachim was supposed to have been her real father, but that I was too possessive to let it happen. Amongst other highly unfavourable opinions. But instead of being the mature adult about a grieving child hitting me back with a dead woman's blows out of misplaced anger about a tragic loss, I unloaded my grievances and unfavourable opinions about Aoife instead. On a child. Not gloss over my numerous faults as I do have a few, what Aoife was accusing me of via Leila made me furious because they were untrue. That I was possessive, controlling, manipulative, disingenuous.” He shrugged when Trevor gave him a perplexed look. “Don't look at me; I never once forbade her mother from nor cared one whit if she pursued other men or anything else for that matter. Our relationship was an emotionally charged tryst, but I was not her keeper. Aoife was never my girlfriend and Leila was not a planned pregnancy either. It was just the end result of misplaced fleeting passions.”
“So that's when Joachim became her doting Daddy and you...”
“Became a toxic blight on Leila's existence, yeah.” Alucard shrugged. “Aoife probably had a plethora of less than favourable stories to tell Leila once she was of age. From the very beginning I didn't feel like I could get along with Aoife, but her actions frustrated me into fascinations oft times, and it seemed that was perhaps occasionally mutual. For a brief few months here and there we were amicable enough. Never lasted more than two consecutively. She had a wicked talent and star power, and wanted to both give back to her people and show them greater things were achievable for demons. In that one last regard we had common ground. It was never a secret that Joachim was the one who fell in love with her romantically from the start. He introduced us.”
“But you were the one sharing her bed.” The intrigue of Alucard's dirty laundry at last won out over the Hunter's misplaced affection for the empty construct in his arms. His full attention now on the Dhampyre, the brunette tilted his head to the side, expression screwed up.
“Demon arrangements. Hasn't Joachim ever explained the concept to you?” Alucard scoffed before inhaling deeply to expand upon. “Love and sex are not so intertwined with demons. Better explained is that love and sex are generally more separated than one and the same with my kind...” Remembering just then that recent revelations meant that he could count Trevor Belmont amongst his kind, he adjusted his statement. “What I mean is that for our kind Trevor, what you and I share is actually very rare. Conventional – in the human sense of the word – relationships are a lot more common here in the Lost Commune simply because of the environment we've established and maintain. But in the outside world, demons have a hard time controlling their desires, so rarely would they risk devouring or consuming something they hold so precious as the one they love. Particularly with power dynamics in play.”
“Are you saying that because he found her precious and she was a weaker demon than he is, Joachim wouldn't share her bed for fear he would consume her?”
“Sort of?” Alucard let out a long exhale before sucking in yet another long drawn breath. “Perhaps this will sound more disrespectful than I intend considering I am speaking posthumously about Aoife, but the best way I can explain the thing we had is just to speak of it plainly. He only slept with her when we did it together. I have no idea if that was because he was hoping my being there would prevent him from acting out instinctually in the manner the top of the food chain dictated, or if it was out of some misplaced assumption that I was the one who had feelings for her. I only took an interest in her initially because I wanted to understand what it was that he saw in her. Maybe Aoife realized after we were at each other's throats that she'd picked the wrong demon to tango with and shared with Leila her regrets? Who knows.”
“How did that arrangement even come up?” Trevor asked with a palpable air of caution. “What made you agreeable to the three of you sharing like that..?”
“I'm not exactly sure myself. I recall how she would come onto him all the time but he would always defer to me even with her naked in his lap trying and failing to unbutton his shirt. We would only do the deed if I was up for it, and when I was not, he simply wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and stepped out when she threw herself at his feet. I should have asked at the time, but now looking back, I really believe he thought I was interested in her beyond a bit of fun and trying to let me have what he thought I desired. I am positive Aoife realized later on that she had wanted him all that time to herself. I could see why she felt bitter about me being in the middle of their potential love story, even though I had no intention of being in the middle of anything with Aoife for the long run.”
Trevor was so quiet as he studied the Dhampyre, it made the rambling confessions and confusions of yesteryear all too easy to dislodge and rise to the surface.
“You know, in the entire centuries spent by that Vampyre's side, I never once hid my preferences for men from him. Nor did he hide his preferences for women from me. We both had our own favourite dishes and we only ordered something different from the menu when the restaurant was out of our favourite meals. He had to have known to me Aoife was just something to snack on while my preferred dish had yet to come out of the kitchen. I was just eating some fries off his plate while I waited.”
“You are aware my preference is also for the fairer sex and yet look where we are, Adrian.” Trevor responded flatly, looking as if that comment was supposed to shed some yet unknown insight onto the events of the past. The Hunter rolled his eyes and sighed once it became clear Alucard was not understanding the poignancy of his statement. “You do realize by your own reasoning that it sounds more like it was his love for you that kept him from engaging with this Aoife beyond your involvement and comfort, yes?”
“I love him too; he was my only family for centuries. If he had just told me clearly upfront that he wanted to be with her...” Alucard stopped himself from continuing that train of thought. It felt a dangerous tangent to go down when there was not a clear indication of where exactly it would lead. Even the mere thought of carefully contemplating the events that had lead up to where Leila and he stood at odds today was twisting his guts uncomfortably. “Long story short, Aoife and I were both terrible parents for Leila and if Joachim had been intended to be her real father, his destiny has been fulfilled. Thank whatever serendipitous happenstance brought that to be, as no one could have done it better.”
“You have not been very convincing, you know that, yes?” Trevor replied cryptically, but allowed Alucard to wallow in his speechless confusion when he could only respond in that manner. The Dhampyre had been telling the truth to his best recollection as far as he was aware. Disbelief still flashing in grey-blue eyes, Trevor instead turned attentions abruptly back towards the 'baby' and strolled out into the main portion of the facility, pausing by the simple office set-up. “We're going to take a look at the underground city now, aren't we?” The construct simply stared blankly at Trevor, until it mimicked his expression in response to the stimuli, returning the Hunter a tiny smile that Trevor just found so adorable. “That's right! Papa promised he was going to show it to us from high up. I bet it will be an amazing sight, don't you, Sweetheart?”
With a groan Alucard followed Trevor out of the lab, waving him to follow after as he reiterated the very important facts that Trevor Belmont needed to keep in mind while playing with his new toy. “I am not that thing's 'Papa'. It can barely even be considered my clone since there's no life in it, only the limited essence that I put in. Follow me and I will show you the city. It's just going to be shapes and colours to that thing in your arms that lacks the ability to conceptualize that much visual data. Because that thing is not a baby and it is also technically not even alive.”
“You are Moroi.” Trevor reminded him, dismissing all his harsh arguments with a basic fact.
This was turning into an uphill battle, for sure. Sighing, Alucard lead Trevor over to yet another lift by a second control panel for the lighting in the current area they occupied, and punched in the code that allowed the catwalk to be accessible. The lift lurched a short distance down before opening up to the metal walkways that gave Alucard access to the secondary control panels and maintenance rafters. The true intent in coming here was to check those selfsame secondary control panels to locate areas in need of repairs and queue them in order of urgency to work through in the coming days, but it was true that one could gaze out upon the whole of the subterranean city from this location. Which was what Trevor was doing, standing so close to the railing he was at risk of falling over.
“Careful.” He warned softly from where he was accessing the first of several panels he needed to review data from “It's a long way down.” Joachim had not been exaggerating, it seemed. Several of the key air vents were severely clogged up in multiple areas. It certainly explained the dusty smell upstairs. “Sorry, what was that?” Apologizing once he'd realized Trevor's question had been ignored while he was focusing, Alucard waited patiently for the Hunter to repeat it.
“Oh, that's okay... I was just wondering how you built all of this. It is quite expansive.”
“Well, not in one day, I'll tell you that.” Letting out a small chuckle, he bid Trevor to come over to the next panel he was logging into and pointed to a specific building seen easily due to it's proximity to the lift tower. “When I arrived here with Sypha, there was only one other Moroi who lived here.”
“Joachim.” Trevor guessed correctly.
“Yes, but even he did not stay here permanently. He would come back to visit his grandmother, but he never stayed long. I was staying here permanently, however, so while I was looking for you, I kept coming across friendlier demons who would benefit from having a safe haven. I would bring them back with me if I found them trustworthy and they wanted to give the village a shot. Some of these demons were Moroi like myself, but unlike me, they had much less resistance to daylight and sunlight. I mean, some of the ones still here to this day are so susceptible to it, they are like statues until the full moon rise. Unable to move about even in their own homes because of the ambient sunlight through windows or else condemned to staying in blackened room until the night fell completely. It didn't seem like an enjoyable way to live to me, so since I had already dug down below the village over the years to create a crypt for myself, I decided it couldn't be that much harder to dig some more and make them all their own space. That building there started as a boarding house with a few private rooms and a gathering hall. It was the first structure built down here that was intended for anyone who needed it. Then more people needed it... So we built some more. All this is the result of needs seen to over a vast expanse of time.”
The twinkling subterranean city flickered like hundreds of thousands of candles in the wind. From high up the trams running the length of the main drag looked like little caterpillars. The city central was as metropolitan and laden with shops and small eateries as any you could visit top-side. The Lamplight Gardens provided a lush green space filled with rare and somewhat alien foliage to stroll through as did the boardwalk along the underground lake. Residential areas were interspersed amongst commercial, however the construction and manufacturing plants remained tucked away together in the Industrial sector located in the South-East section of the city. There were struggles and never ending repairs, but the city was home to nearly twelve thousand demons by the last census taken.
Trevor was staring at him, he realized, with an expression equal parts awe and affection. Grey-blue eyes overflowing with fondness, the Hunter shifted the construct over to the opposite hip so that he had the space to step in capture the Dhampyre's lips in a surprise kiss. “Just amazing...” Trevor whispered, all blushes and shyness all of a sudden. “What an incredible feat you have accomplished here. It is criminal a simple creature such as myself has stolen your heart.”
“I wouldn't say that... You were my inspiration for all of this. You were always more than satisfied to leave what others called monstrous be so long as they were not hurting anyone. I believe poor and desperate circumstances are to blame for most of the poor and desperate choices both humans and demons make. So, I tried to give those that others would call monsters conditions where they did not have to make such desperate choices or hurt other's in order to survive. It turns out, you were right to keep offering such compassion, Trevor. Most of the demons I helped get this chance were more than happy to live peacefully.”
“I could have never done even a hundredth of all this, Adrian, good intentions or not.”
“You kind of did, if you think about it. I would never have done all this without meeting you. Without that argument outside the Aljiba church doors. Or even that follow-up fight in Lupu.”
“I am not taking credit for any of this.” Trevor insisted, returning his focus to the failed homunculus in his arms. With a delighted whee or three as the empty vessel was swished through the air, the Hunter trot down the catwalk to take a better look at the Western side of the city, all the while babbling nonsense to a construct he'd successfully conditioned to respond to his smiles by returning lopsided mimicry.
By the time Alucard had made his way to the third control panel alongside the pair, Trevor had also taught it to high-five him when he held his hand out for one. This is stupid. Alucard huffed as he logged in to check on the stability of the commercial district. That thing is just responding to stimuli and mirroring behaviours. There's no reason for Trevor to be so proud of a collection of skin scrapings, blood samples and hair. So stupid... However, even knowing so did not change how awfully morose Alucard felt getting a taste of this side of Trevor Belmont. The part of Trevor he missed out on all those years ago. Maybe I should take that off of him since he's seems to be getting too attached... And before I start wanting to have another baby. I don't even like babies.
“Do you like the pretty lights on the tower? You keep looking at them.” The brunette asked the homunculus as if expecting a prompt reply, and carried on as if he has received one. “I like the huge overhanging lamps, personally. Like miniature indoor suns. Ahh, what a cute little grin you have. You're so precious. Yes, you are!”
“Trevor...”
“What does he eat, Adrian? He must be hungry by now?”
“He... It... Does not eat food.”
“Oh...” Trevor's head tilted, snapping back in place. “Is that because he is a Dhampyre like you? That's easy enough then.”
“No, Trevor, it doesn't eat period.” It was a waste of his breath to answer as the Hunter was not paying him any attention. Too busy slicing his own thumb open with tiny razor talons to feed the homunculus the blood spilling freely. Of course the construct sucked at the wound, the warm copper and honey an entirely new sensation to react towards. It was just seeking stimuli and nothing more, but of course the Hunter took it's reactive actions as some kind of confirmation bias that the thing was hungry. “Maybe you should put it down now. I think you are wilfully ignoring the facts I needed you to bear in mind. That it is not a baby, it is not alive, and it has a limited battery.”
“That's dangerous. We're so high up. What if he falls?”
Then good riddance. It's not like Alucard could actually say that out loud. Defrosting the homunculus had been a mistake. He should have just let Trevor believe he was a deranged psychopath who kept baby popsicles in his deep freezer.
“All right... Well I have to get some work done, so let's go back inside for now. You can do whatever you want. Maybe leave the homunculus behind and put your coat and boots on to go see the village. Maybe make a new friend or two?” His suggestions seemed to fall on deaf ears, but at least Trevor took the hint as he waved the brunette back towards the lift. He watched Trevor wander off towards the bedroom with the failed experiment in tow, hardly acknowledging Alucard's parting wave as he instead turned towards the shop to take inventory of all the air filters left in stock. From a distance it seemed like they were going to be short for all the repairs needed. “Have fun, I guess.”
One hundred and eighty. A fairly significant number to be short, it turned out. Who knew once he got into the ducts the state they would be found in. If they had to manufacture and replace ducts instead of just cleaning, greasing fan blades, and replacing filters, then this would shape up to a good month of work on just that task alone. The sewage system in Sub-Level 2 hadn't even been assessed yet. It was a project he held off on stupidly in the past out of an aversion to anything plumbing related, but it was such a vital component to a functional city. When the sewers backed up, all hell broke loose. Same as garbage collection. Just let trash fester a few days on the curb and it was pure pandemonium. It had taken decades to build this place up to what it was now, but it would only take twenty-four hours of not being able to flush the toilet or get on the WiFi for it all the crumble.
“Fine!” He bemoaned to no one in the lonely machine shop. “Tomorrow I will look at our sewage systems.”
For now he cut up thin sheet metal to weld in patches if needed, gathered tubs of gear grease, and assembled the tools and workman's coveralls he would need to climb inside the central hub and begin the systemic unclogging and replacement of the entire air filtration system. Not tomorrow, because that was sewage assessment day. But perhaps the one after that. Perhaps Trevor could be convinced to help out. A smaller man would have a much easier time in the tighter areas. Plus as a personal bonus, Alucard had already learned how adorable the Hunter looked in a pair of coveralls. Add a little dust smudged across his nose or sharp cheekbone and... Yeah, that's a good look, Trevor Belmont. I'm into it.
Maybe I should tone my lust down for his first week. All kidding aside, he had listened to the very object of his sexual preoccupations pace the length of this facility in the dark for hours, frustrated and working himself into an emotional collapse. The revelations Eliza Levin had dumped upon them, contained within that collection of papers sitting in an envelope on an otherwise empty drafting table, had turned Trevor Belmont's world on it's head. He was not a twenty-four year old man misplaced by cruel circumstance and Castle shenanigans. Trevor Belmont was a half-human and half-demon hybrid, sired by the primordial and scarcely known progenitor of the Desire demon class. There was an unknown parasite cohabiting on his flesh like a pair of inky black wings. He was five hundred and eighty years of age, and just like the homunculus he was so enthralled by, Trevor technically could not be considered a biological male. All these revelations piled onto the long suffering Belmont hunter of legend was costing him precious sleep. So yeah, maybe Alucard should tone down not just his lust but his everything for now when it came to Trevor Belmont. Trevor had some very personal shit to work through.
I should check in on him...
There wasn't much else he could do to be productive this evening given the mood Alucard now found himself in, so he threw in the towel for Day 1 and made his way back to the cordoned off bedroom in the sunken floor. Surprised to find not only Trevor and the homunculus, but the large white cat as well all folded up in the middle of the bed. There was no way for the feline visitor to have gotten down to this level unless Trevor had fetched her from upstairs himself. Adrianne the cat was keen to rub herself along Trevor's arms and back as he played some archaic game along the vein of pat-a-cake with the failed homunculus, meowing lowly with pleasure between her purring. The homunculus was starting to move a bit sluggishly, nearly all of it's essence stores used up.
Noting the change in it's behaviour and reaction times, Trevor wrapped it back up tightly in his sweater and pulled thing into a cradling hold. “What's wrong, little man? Are you sleepy? Do you need a nap?”
“Trevor...” Alucard hedged, unsure now that it was imminent, just how he was supposed to remind the Hunter that the homunculus was a failed experiment. It wasn't built to last. For a brief moment the lift rattling down from upstairs stole both their attentions, revealing the returned Vampyre once the doors slid open. “Joachim.” Alucard greeted, waving him over to join them.
“As suspected.” Joachim lead with as he took Alucard's invitation. “I was looking for Adrianne to feed her so I followed her scent. She can't get down here unless she's learned how to press lift buttons...” Liquid silver voice trailing off, the Vampyre took one clear look at Trevor's side profile and the construct he was cradling in his arms before he pulled Alucard over to his side and hissed lowly. “What is the matter with you? What on earth made you think giving Bunny a pretend baby right now in his current mental state would be a good idea?”
Defensive right out the gate, Alucard put his hands up between them. “Our pet Rabbit found it all on his own. I just offered to show him the experiment so he'd stop falsely believing I freeze-dry children down here. I told him it was not a baby but in fact a failure that had a very limited battery life. Repeatedly.”
“Kitten, I do not believe the pretty Bunny Rabbit was listening to you. Can't you smell that the oxytocin in him is off the charts? New mother bonding with her child rivalling hormone levels.”
As if on queue, Trevor's body language changed just as his scent grew sharp with alarm. “Hey little buddy, what's wrong?” After a mere beat he was up on his feet and pressing the sweater-bound bundle into Alucard's hands, looking so terribly concerned for a failed experiment only following it's natural, terminal course. “Adrian, what's happening to him?”
“Exactly what I said would happen. This is a failed homunculus experiment. I could never master the spark of life so my attempts simply have the essence my tissue were imbued with. Animating uses up that essence. They usually lasted an average of about forty-eight hours but this one's been on ice for years, and then combined with the fact you've been providing it non-stop stimuli to respond to since it was defrosted...”
“Kitten!” Joachim hissed again.
“A-are you saying that he's dying...” Trevor looked devastated. “Because I loved him t-too much...?”
Oh shit.
“I should really just leave you to this mess you created. I swear Adrian, if I have to steal him a baby after this incident because of your carelessness...” The Vampyre threatened in Welsh, before he switched over to English, arms opened wide to catch the smaller man who collapsed into his embrace consumed by abject grief. “Kitten is speaking the truth, Bunny, although I understand this is hard to hear. The homunculus experiment did not conclude with favourable results, but I know it is quite difficult to look at one and not be overcome with affection. They do look like fat, tiny little Adrians, now don't they?” Joachim soothed with words as well as their dual-aura's entwining just how they had back in the garden home. “Did you give him a name, Bunny?” There was a sniffle and mumble in response that Alucard could not make out even with Dhampyre ears, but Joachim at least seemed to have been able to parse through the tears to. “How thoughtful... I will never forget my own Adrian Twelve. That one lasted a full week. I almost dared to dream it was going to stick around for the long haul. I suppose he would have needed a new name if he'd made it.”
“He's really... He's gone?” The Hunter pushed back from Joachim and instead reached for the fading construct still held loosely in Alucard's arms. The Dhampyre gave it up without any resistance, knowing full well it had minutes, if that, left of energy.
“I'm sorry Trevor. Had I known you would get this attached to it...”
“It's my fault. You told me the moment I found him what he was I just... I don't know.” The Hunter's eyes welled up again. “I thought I was at peace with the fact my own children lived good full lives without me but when I picked up that little baby version of you I...”
“It's okay, Trevor.” Alucard gave the Hunter permission to rework through the grief, if it was indeed permission he was seeking.
“No it's not. My children had stories about me at minimum. Vague impressions of me and faint recollections of me reading them bedtime stories if I am lucky. I have no memories or tales of that Lilû from my childhood, which means it never had a hand in raising me. When I picked up this little baby version of Adrian, I couldn't stop wondering what the little baby version of Joachim would look like. In direct consequence of that demon rapist's actions, there will be a little baby Joachim out there in the coming months, and if my own upbringing is anything to go off of, the Lilû likely isn't going to take the best – if any – care of them. That child will share half it's blood with me... It's my... That's our baby.”
“Okay, Trevor. I get it.”
“Do you? Remember that it's supposed to be you and I are together against the world, Adrian. You promised. That means somewhere out there in the world being birthed by a demon that abandons it's young will be your baby too.”
Handing the now motionless homunculus to Joachim, Alucard pulled a grieving but angry mess that sometimes went by the name Trevor Belmont into his arms and held tight. When that wasn't enough to sooth the Hunter trembling, he hauled him up to a hip just how the brunette had been holding the empty vessel hours earlier, and let the poor thing cling so tightly around his neck it could be considered a slow form of strangulation. “I get it. The Church and our own people have all eyes out for this coven and Estefania. If anyone catches wind of her, her coven, or her familiar is spotted, we'll be among the first to know. If anyone finds Lilû, we will find out what is happening or has happened to Lilû's attempt to baby-trap Joachim. If there is a baby in danger of an absentee parent, we will rescue the baby, okay? I promise we will save our collective baby.”
“I am not the child here; put me down.” Trevor muttered into Alucard's shirt collar. Discounting his momentary flash of ire, the Hunter remained pressed into his embrace as if still seeking comfort after his feet were placed on the ground.
“Bunny may name the product of my undesired coupling after this one if it's a boy. It would be a shame to waste such a nice name.” Joachim chimed in, drawing Trevor's attention. “Unfortunately, I must inform you, sweet Rabbit, that this is technically medical waste right now, and I'm afraid the failed homunculi do tend to decay at an alarming rate once they have reached their end. Would you care to help me incinerate it, Bunny? We can give him a little funeral rite before we lay him to rest?”
“You burn your dead in this village?”
“We burn medical waste.” The Vampyre replied succinctly, waving the Hunter to follow after him towards the incinerator. “To answer you properly, there are several methods used as we have so many varying customs adhered to. Átahsaia consume their dead. We have one here named Jeremiah. As a Wrath demon, I do expect you will be required to physically bring him to heel before he understands your lofty place on the Hierarchy.”
“I have only just arrived and already you're telling me I need to beat a demon into submission to earn my peace...”
Voices fading, Alucard overheard Joachim laugh in that easy and free way the Vampyre had not in decades once again in such a short span of time. Trevor Belmont was having a positive affect on all those around him, it seemed. “Jeremiah is the toughest Wrath demon in town. You best him and the whole lot of them will be eating out of your hand. Easy enough work for a creature like you, I'd say.”
“This is not the idyllic village life in the mountains you two sold me...” Trevor's faint voice muttered again.
As Joachim was promising to make the Hunter whatever he desired for dinner later – after feeding Adrianne, of course – Alucard ceased paying them any mind to instead swipe the encrypted USB off the simple worktable in the central hub. This digital archive of the papers Trevor had spent the night pouring over to the point of defeat and vexation Alucard browsed methodically at the adjacent desktop. Certainly the terms and clinical details were clear and factual, however the Church's findings were still not any easier to digest over the course of this latest pass through. All he had intended to do was give the documents a quick overview at this early stage so that if Trevor had any questions he would be capable of zeroing in to find the long suffering thing his answers. Time must have gotten away from him as he'd become aware Trevor had returned hours later when a half smile and a comment about how Alucard 'really did live down here' startled him to attention. Making note to check the Hunter's back for any changes in the inky organism his email had no updates on from the Church researches looking into the matter, the Dhampyre locked the device and stood to follow the brunette into the sunken bedroom.
“Please tell me you need a hand in there.” His purred request soundly rebuffed as the Hunter shut the frosted shower stall door in his face accompanied by a firm 'No', the Dhampyre leaned with his back against the glass and slid down to sit upon the concrete ground.
Hmm... This must be very cold on his feet. I should get a carpet for the bedroom, at least. It was kind of funny how little he'd considered the comforts in this space as Trevor had jokingly but not untruthfully pointed out Alucard lived in. Perhaps a space heater in this area to make the air less biting? He needs closet space as well. It shouldn't feel this... Weird... To be thinking about how to accommodate another living person into my space, right?
“Did you need to shower that badly?” Trevor was asking him while towelling off his hair, dressed in the warm flannel pyjamas from last night. He must have dried his body and changed all in the stall without Alucard realizing.
The Dhampyre climbed to his feet so as to get out of the way, but as a thought struck him he caught the Hunter about the waist and pulled him in, back to chest in a reverse little hug. Curiosity could not be contained, it seemed, so whether it was a good or bad idea, Alucard simply asked. “Is there something I should know, Trevor?”
“What do you mean?”
“Perhaps it's coincidence, but it seems like you've picked up a little quirk from Joachim and I am wondering if there is... Something you might want to talk about?”
“That man is three-quarters quirks, so you'll forgive me for not knowing what you are referring to.”
His lips parted with the burning suspicion on his tongue, but then he thought better of it. This was a man given news two days ago that had devastated him, then a day ago news that had blindsided him, scant months after news all of his loved ones were no longer with him. Suddenly it felt entirely selfish and perverted to grill Trevor on the fact it seemed like he was averse to be seen unclothed all of a sudden. The man had just learned his body was not what he thought it was and was also now harbouring a foreign entity. Alucard's overwhelming desire to feel Trevor's bare flesh against his own even if they were doing nothing but laying in one another's arms was such an insensitive impulse at the current time.
“You know, it doesn't matter. I should probably leave the basement a bit more than I do so I don't live down here, as you said. Being alone with my thoughts for so long scrambles things.” With a shake of his head, he continued. “Are you going to try and get some rest? I'll power down the lights if so.”
The Hunter nodded and promptly dove under the duvet of the nearby bed. He looked cold, Alucard noted. Tomorrow he would find a space heater for Trevor. For now, he popped in for a quick rinse of a shower before padding out to do as he said he would, returning in the low blue hue of the power-saving lighting to slip in next to the flannel blanket burrito. Sighing when the roll of fabric wriggled up against him tightly, he put his arms around the whole lot and nearly drifted off to sleep. Hovering in that strange state that was mostly dreams tainting distance reality, until the source that allowed him to reach such a state was discovered missing. His arms held empty blankets, long gone cold.
Trevor was at the work table again, pacing and reading in the dim blue, scent and expression a tumultuous storm.
It was only the first day, the Dhampyre reminded himself as he forced his body to lay still. Trevor had a lot to digest, in a strange place where currently, nowhere was his own. Determined to give the brunette his privacy, Alucard turned away from the anguish on display and did his honest best not to pry into or unintentionally spy on a moment that no one had any right to intrude upon.
In spite of good intentions, for the second night in a row Alucard was left listening to Trevor Belmont's frustrated tears die out in the darkness, unsure how or if he could help.
Notes:
I wasn't so sure this was going to get out before NYD, so woo!
Everyone stay safe and warm.
Chapter 57: A New Day
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Baljhet Mountains, Romania ~ Lost Commune
“How about you try exploring? Meet some of the neighbours? Buy some fresh baked treats in the square if the old biddies selling them won't give you a taste for free. You are as Leila would phrase it, 'fresh meat' after all and they may want to lure in a repeat customer. I am not sure when I'll be back, but you have a key to come and go as you please. You're completely safe and free here. Okay?”
Collectively, those had been the words of Adrian's parting plea that Trevor more or less spread his wings and embrace the strange new place he was going to call home one day. Spoken hours ago by this latest rumination as Adrian left the quaint dwelling, explaining as he'd prepared quite densely and borderline incomprehensibly of how a litany of sewage-related concerns and repairs were calling him away. The Dhampyre had sounded terribly apologetic as well, as if his evidently crucial and important – albeit impenetrably described – maintenance work were an inconvenience as he bid Trevor farewell from the front balcony. The whole whirlwind of a parting was quite a strange role reversal for the Hunter, now finding himself in the place of bidding the man of the house a good day at work. Should he go to the village markets after all and buy an apron to don and twists the strings of, befitting a proper homemaker? As if branded, he could still feel Adrian's heat from where he'd kissed him, just below the brunette's hairline in the middle of his forehead. As the afternoon and evening passed, whenever he found himself lost in thought, his fingers seemed to always find their own way to that spot, tracing the phantom shape of pale lips.
Joachim had been long gone already by the time they'd made it upstairs, so with only Adrianne the massive sized cat for company, Trevor had taken the liberty of spreading out the Church report retrieved from the basement across the living room coffee table, as it was warmer and admittedly felt more welcoming than the utilitarian space Adrian was habituated to below. Stark and practical, with no signs of personality.
That was an interesting and surprising tidbit of lore he'd only recently learned about his Dhampyre. The Adrian he recalled from the past had spoken ad nauseam on the comforts of Dracula's Castle and had seemed to be equally pleased to return to his childhood home for those similar comforts. He'd complained and derided incessantly, insisting that he was suffering unduly from the various aspects and features overland travel by foot had thrust upon him. Adrian had seemed more boyish back then, if Trevor were being honest. Even immature. That boyish version of Adrian would have never lived so simply and without any luxury, or so he'd imagined based on the Dhampyre's disdain for sleeping on the ground under the stars, or even on a lumpy mattress, roof or no roof. The moaning over the lack of bathing from out of Adrian had rivalled only Trevor's own internal sighs, yet their reasons could not have stood at more opposite ends. Trevor's mother had ingrained within him that cleanliness kept disease and sickness at bay. As a Vampyre and other assorted demon hunter at the time, a strict adherence to cleanliness would keep infections from wounds and promote healing. Being clean could keep him fighting fit and from turning into a Werebeast or Moroi in short order. In contrast, the top of Adrian's complaints about the lack of opportunities for washing had been not having access to the essential oils for his frizzy hair and being unable to 'smell pretty'. Now they were at opposite ends yet again, only with Trevor self-admittedly desiring to smell divine and look satisfactory, whilst Adrian seemed just to be caring for his outward appearance out of practicality for his position as an Ambassador.
In Trevor's defence, he now lived with a Dhampyre and a Vampyre whose sense of smell could sniff out the chemical changes in his mood should he let his emotions run away from their prison in his chest. How could anyone not be self-conscious about how they smelled living with two Moroi bloodhounds?
in actuality, it was Tlthat impersonal and uninviting space down below Adrian was content to utilize for strictly practical purposes that had parted the veil, opening Trevor's eyes to all the changes he'd took note of or witnessed since his return, yet unconsciously ignored about thelis current iteration of Adrian. There was an alarming amount that Trevor had perhaps turned a blind eye towards. Or more likely, that he had been too self-absorbed in his own misery to pay any mind to the differences six centuries had made in his Dhampyre. If he kept following that train of thought, it made one have to wonder that if there were no Leila or Joachim to factor into Adrian's equations, would this living room have a need to exist? Without a family to keep sheltered and warm, would Adrian have ever built this house?
Regardless, both thankfully did, and Trevor was more than happy to have the veneer of normalcy in which to pour over the strange and unusual committed to paper before him.
For not a single component inside felt normal or familiar.
Once thought to be an easily understood and uncomplicated machine with basic needs, now it seemed his person housed a potentially lethal spell seal not even a Belnades had been able to discern the true nature of. Along with an alien entity no doubt as nefarious as it was dark, infecting his body. Given only warnings to monitor for it's growth, as if terrifyingly Trevor may one day find himself wholly consumed by it, there had been no solution to purge his flesh of it's taint. Still, none of these revelations could downplay the deep unease settled into his bones in learning that he'd somehow managed to screw up even the act of being born... How could a child bore of a human be neither man nor woman, or even both at the same time, as Trevor was now informed that he was? He was an undesirable product from day one...
The urge to weep crept up quite suddenly, but the former Vampyre Hunter found himself far too exhausted to waste his limited energy indulging. Sleep seemed determined to escape him, and he could tell his lack of partaking in that vital activity had not gone unnoticed by his Dhampyre. Trevor was making Adrian worry about him again and again... He hated it. He hated how no matter how many times he swore to himself he was going to be only the best version of Trevor Belmont he could be, he kept stumbling right out of the gate. Stumbling right into Adrian or Joachim's arms... Hated even more that he still wanted either of them – both of them, honestly – to just fix it and make him all right again. Whatever 'it' was that needing fixing, who could say?
With his borrowed Vampyre Master absent from the get-go, his unsteady and frightening emotions building up were now at a point they ravaged his mind, leaving Trevor longing for that gentle aura to force them back down into a manageable, tolerable state. Lost in the violent torrent, he found himself craving even Adrian's physical strength holding him down... Surrendering to the Dhampyre's control, who surely knew better than Trevor what it was he truly needed to keep it together. Chasing memories of Adrian's hot flesh sliding within his own, filling him up deep and intimately in a place he'd never known was empty before and now could hardly stand the void... Recalling as he'd allowed Adrian to consume every part of him willingly the way that deep voice had huffed praise into his ear.
“Good girl.”
Trevor shot up to his feet with an audible gasp so loud, he'd scared poor purring Adrianne off to who knew where. Standing there in the silence of another man's living room, he grappled with a memory he wasn't certain he wanted to acknowledge fully or bury forever now that he'd dug it up, all while suffering the indignity that was one pathetically confused semi-state of arousal going on in his pants.
Girl.
Adrian had referred to him as a girl... The night before they'd gone to the Church and were given this maddeningly obtuse collection of findings concerning Trevor's horribly maligned body. Mere coincidence or something more? Just as Adrian had discovered and concealed the inky substance on his back until it could no longer be ignored, was Trevor's...condition... also known? Could Adrian and Joachim have scented something off about him from the start? If they could smell the fluctuation in his moods then it would make sense that they could tell by scent alone he was not... He was also... His mind staunchly refused to finish that thought, but that didn't mean his heart's quickening pace had been reared in either.
Still... Refusing to follow where that line of thinking went did not change the truth that Joachim had known he was not all human from the start. The Vampyre had admitted as much while Adrian and the Vampyre argued in that stretched out car. Even if Adrian had missed it, surely at least Joachim must have known he was not only a demi-demon but also not entirely all male... Although it felt far too embarrassing to ask if it was true, in spite of how desperately he'd love to know. What would he even do with the knowledge Joachim had doted on him and pampered him and... Well, he'd been babied to use one of the more modern terms he'd picked up. But, what would he do or how would he feel if it turned out Joachim had only done those things because he was... Sort of a girl? A woman. You're all grown up, Trevor. His mind corrected before he could stop to question if the differentiation between girl or woman was really what mattered right then. Which now that he was paying the matter more thought, there were supposedly twelve thousand demons below in that underground city. How many of them had olfactory talents that rivalled a Vampyre? How many demons would he cross on the streets down below who would know his body's shameful secret just from a passing whiff?
Perhaps... He could just stay inside the house. Forever. It was a large enough dwelling, and had everything one could need.
My heart is racing... Trevor placed both hands against his chest and willed himself to settle futilely. He wanted to run away but there was nowhere to run, and it was not like he expected to outpace what was frightening him. How could one ever expect to flee from such monsters lurking inside their own skull?
“Are you, uhh... Okay?” A hesitant woman's voice asked him from the edge of the kitchen.
Trevor locked eyes with Adrian's smaller female body double, noting the apprehension in her golden irises as abject horror overtook him. He felt his own eyes widening while his vision narrowed and faded in juxtaposition, wondering faintly if Leila could also smell everything wrong with his person, and what would she think of him if she could.
“You... do not look okay, New Guy.” Leila stated in a long drawn out way. Her eyes darted about towards the lift and then up at the second floor, as if she was searching for one of the two elder Moroi to handle the situation for her. That was entirely fair too. The former Hunter was about to become deplorably burdensome in short order.
“...Sorry.” Was all Trevor managed to get out before the lack of proper oxygen made him sway and nearly stumble.
The Banshee not only looked the part of Adrian's heir, but moved like him as well. Just as swiftly and surely as either her birth or chosen fathers would have, Leila was at his side in an instant, holding him steady before easing him down onto the couch. There was a solid strength behind her touch. Not at all like her fathers, but certainly more than he could recall from Esteé or Sypha by a long-shot, and Sypha had been quite the brute for her size. Soft with her instruction, Leila began to guide him towards catching his breath, so he did his best to follow along. Inhaling deliberately for a set amount of time through his nose, holding it, and releasing his breath through his mouth in twice as long a time as he'd inhaled. It was methodical and required just enough focus to maintain such a rhythm that... Well, it worked. The blur was fading and now he could see the sympathetic facial expression on Adrian's feminine twin clearly enough to feel ashamed of what had just happened.
“That's called an anxiety attack, if you didn't know.” Leila informed him gently without a hint of insult or impression she was talking down to a simpleton. “Lots of people get them, so don't worry about it too much. Just remember to keep breathing when it happens and you'll be fine after it passes. Which absolutely will happen, even if it feels like in the moment you're never going to get through it.”
Grateful for her help, Trevor worked his mouth uselessly, unable to form the words of gratitude she was owed. Time passed between them, growing more awkward by the second, and the former Hunter could feel the Banshee's discomfort with the matter just transpired... Discomfort with him too, most likely. Before he could muster up another apology for that, Leila folded her arms and leaned back against the couch, drawing his attention.
“Do you get them a lot?”
The 'anxiety attack' is what she meant, surely. Trevor opened his mouth again, once more pausing to collect his thoughts. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep for days. The ordeal he'd recently been put through at the Church HQ. Or being in an unfamiliar dwelling alone with his thoughts. Or even simply by nature of being separated from both Dhampyre and Vampyre for the first time since one had returned to him and the other come into his life. Maybe all of those things combined were the cause, but Trevor found himself unable to deflect or downplay this woman's simple question. He collapsed back into the couch alongside her, opening his hands up in surrender and told her the plain and simple truth.
“I was not allowed to have these feelings. When I was brought into this world, I was the only son and heir to the Belmont Vampyre Hunter legacy. Because of that legacy I needed to shoulder and pass along to other sons, I was not allowed to partake in any of the activities or interests I would have preferred devoting my time and effort towards. I wanted to build and create beautiful works, but I was taught and then commanded to slay and destroy the same beasts and creatures I would have rather studied in a peaceful manner. I was never allowed to cry unless I did it alone, and even then, I was supposed to let it briefly out and get myself back in order in quick fashion. No dwelling, no faltering, no hesitation. I was never allowed to be soft... Because I needed to be hard to stay safe. I had to be iron to keep others safe... Even if I felt like lace most times. So... My answer is no. I have little experience in handling these emotions.” Trevor lowered his gaze as it was getting hard to see through the mist filling it, and he felt shame all over again for being so weak and helpless under the weight of nothing more than his own failings. “The funny thing is now that I have no legacy to uphold, no mother to keep proud, or wife and children to provide for, all I am left with these days are the same feelings I was never allowed to have. I never learned how to deal with them, only how to pretend they were not there. But they are still... There... And they seem to have grown in all the time I've ignored them to the point that I am not sure which parts of me are real and what parts are merely their shadows.”
The confession sat between them. Not awkward or oppressive. It simply sat, raw and ugly, but honest.
“Heavy...” Leila whistled in a low tone after a long moment of silence expended. “I am not going to pretend to understand the nuance of your clear issues, New Guy. Dad did give me the quick and dirty version, and it was quite a heartbreaking tale.” The white-haired woman who had strands of secret gold in her mane much like her biological father reached a hand out and took one of his. It was a simple gesture, but her soft grip and warmth was just the right amount of comfort and connection that broke him down. She did not comment on the tears flowing freely down his cheeks, nor did she reach over to dry them. She simply held his hand and continued to speak, low and soothing. “I do know intimately how suffocating and stifling it is to be told how exactly you are supposed to live your life in order to keep yourself safe and not be an embarrassment to your parents. Thank Mother Danu I was never saddled with any 'legacy' to uphold, since my sperm-donor barely trusts me to cut my own food for fear I'll stab myself with the steak knife, but I think I can relate to a large part of what you're going through right now. I am not sure if I can be much help but... I'm more logical, my therapists used to say. I need a foundation of logical order to sort my feelings when they get out of hand. Does that sound like you?”
“I...” Trevor tightened his grip on the hand holding his. When it tightened back he found the courage to keep speaking about the things he was never supposed to say out loud. “I always liked to know where to put my foot down next. Even if it was just a single step, knowing where to step was comforting.”
“Okay. That sounds methodical and logical. Maybe how you were raised and permitted to act growing up was not perfect for you specifically, but there were probably very valuable lessons Mama Belmont force-fed you that you can adapt to how today's Trevor Belmont needs to handle his shit.” Leila brought her free hand to her lips, tapping index finger as she thought out loud. “Way back when I first started having problems and self-regulation issues my first therapist had me choose one single defined problem to focus on and figure out how I was going to tackle it. By learning how I was comfortable managing one specific issue in a healthy way, the idea was for me to build a little mental toolkit to apply to bigger less specific issues or nasty feelings. You wanna try? It has to be a specific pain point that's easily identifiable. Not a vague coalescence of panic and general dread. You're not ready for that yet.”
“Something specific that's causing me to have my guts in a knot..?”
“Yep.” Leila nodded. “From what I gleaned off Dad, you are understandably overwhelmed by a shitload of life's curveballs, so start with one. Simpler is better. Remember, we're going to stress test your brain and emotional fortitude so you can hopefully figure out how to work through the bigger, if more vague, anxieties.”
“Simple and definable...” Tears drying up in lieu of his renewed concentration, he looked out towards the sea of documents he only partially could comprehend. Could these reports be an appropriate launching point? Understanding what he was with perfect clarity should, in theory, go a long way in bringing him to a point of being able to accept what he was... Whatever he was... And in doing so prepare him to face head on the rest of this madness, no? “What about these?” Trevor offered up hopefully. “I was taught languages and basic arithmetic, but I was not allowed to go to a proper school because of my preordained profession. So while I have always been told I am clever... I am not exactly that smart.”
“Don't say that.” Leila chastened gently. “If you never had the opportunity to learn how to be an academic in the past, then you can't say that you're not. The idea that you are dumb is as of right now an untested theory, and we don't run with untested hypothesis in this house. We verify and fact check religiously. For all you know, you're a total Turbo-Nerd.”
For a moment there in the swell of sudden fondness for this unexpected new friend, Trevor nearly blurt out how much she was reminding him just then of a younger Adrian. While it was undeniably the truth that this fruit had grown right off her old man's bow, the memory of the meltdown that had occurred only two night's prior was still a sharp reminder that some compariaons, truthful.or not, were also very unwelcome comparisons. One that would have severed this budding connection in it's infancy were he to bring it to light. So Trevor held his tongue and found a smile for her of which she returned. “So are these suitable, Leila? I am having a hard time comprehending the pages about magick and... Well... The pages about the biology. My umm... Well you know, my...” He still couldn't say it out loud. It was too strange and scary to conceptualize.
“I came out here to get apple juice, you know.” The Banshee huffed. Going by the playful curl at the corner of her lip, it was in jest. “Put the report all back in order for me. I'm going to get us both some juice and if you'll allow me, I can go through it with you and explain the things you don't understand.” She nodded when Trevor indicated he was more than agreeable to the proposed arrangement, peeking up at him over the refrigerator door as she fetched a colourful green and yellow box to pour from, nailing the main source of his fear and frustration on the head with one succinct offer. “I am very familiar with my female anatomy. If we share any of the same parts, I promise I can tell you how they work.”
Perhaps it was because he was still getting to know Leila and therefor he had less apprehensions about revealing shameful parts of himself to her. Or that because she was a grown woman, he was free of that ingrained urge to 'measure up' as he would in the company of a man... Or perhaps it was just because she had proven already with her gentle and accepting actions that she could be trusted that Trevor Christopher Belmont found himself nestled into the couch with a tasty glass of apple juice as his new friend walked him through the Church report page by page. She truly did remind him of Adrian – a fact he kept strictly to himself – as she broke down genes and DNA into an easily digestible explanation a 'book-dumb' person like Trevor could grasp. He found himself understanding how his shared blood with the Lilû could pass traits down his bloodline even so that traces of them could be found in Julius and Yoko centuries later.
Unfortunately, as were the case for the Church's Eliza Levin and Adrian, Leila was unable to shed any light on the parasitic organism on his back. After he'd allowed her to take a look and a few test prods at it, she batted some wild guesses out loud once he explained it's similarity to the inky membrane Lilû utilized, speculating that it was a 'symbiot' which was indeed a word he'd heard before. Leila's running theory was that if Lilû used it with such ease and it both grew and lived on Lilû's body, than because Trevor was biologically similar to the host, it was more than likely the symbiot could live on Trevor too. It clearly had a benefit for Lilû, and it must be getting what it needed from the proto-Desire demon. That was called a symbiotic relationship. Trevor admitted to having direct skin to skin contact twice with the demon, while they had an altercation in both the cave and the garden home's driveway. The point of infection could have been either of those.
She was equally at a loss about the Spell Seal business, but suggested he show the Great Mother once he was summoned to meet with her. The Lost Commune's Matron was ancient. Perhaps even as old as the Lilû. It was possible she may be able to discern more from it, so he only need wait for her to summon him to ask, which by all accounts could be any day soon.
When they finally broached the dreaded topic of his wrong sexual organs, Leila lead him upstairs to the second floor and into the 'Ritual' room she had shown him briefly on her tour. It was a dim domain with a thick aroma of mysterious herbs, that had to be lit exclusively by candlelight as electric wiring and lighting would interfere with the kinds of magicks Joachim performed in this space. Leila still assured him it was fine to be in what was – now that Trevor was studying it for a second time – a space where serious study, preparation, and arcane works were completed. Trevor was no longer so sure they should be using Joachim's meticulously laid out wizard's lab, but that still did not stop him from sitting on the floor by Leila's side as she cracked open one of the two books she'd pulled off a nearby shelf. Only after taking a seat did he notice his hand had narrowly avoided smearing a charcoal glyph of symbols of whose origins were impossible to determine scrawled upon the floor.
If the lines had been broken, what would I have unleashed...?
It was definitely not a room the man's daughter should feel so at ease inside of. Trevor sure as hell was not.
Undeterred by the potent and almost beguiling mix of musk and herbs in the air, Leila placed a book with extremely graphic images of a man's insides in his hands and began to point out the similarities from the diagram to those of his scans. She made a point to let him know which organs both sexes had and gave him a quick description of their functions, as well as which ones were just a male's. Trevor had all the male parts exactly where they were meant to be, which admittedly did bring him a sense of relief. It was true he had been a husband and father, so he must have been man enough for that to have happened, but it was still a relief to learn all his male parts were so normal, they were of hardly little note. Boring was a beautiful word when used in this context. With a flip of the page there was yet another extremely graphic image of a woman's internal workings and once he could get over the shock of it, even a simpleton like Trevor could admit that men and women were on a fundamental level... Not that different at all. By the time the Banshee at his side was explaining how a woman's hormones made her grow tissue inside her uterus that could become a womb should the egg from her ovaries be inseminated and take root in the lining seven to ten days after fertilization took place, or shed in a menses or 'period' monthly if not, Trevor was so fascinated by learning exactly how new life was formed he'd forgotten to be ashamed of the shared parts he had that could perform a part in such a miracle.
“So then... Every month do you think I do that too?” He asked, hanging onto her every word. “I do not bleed or anything... But like clockwork there's a period of a few days about a third of the way through almost every month where I am overly irritable. My first wife was the one who noticed the pattern, so she'd avoid bringing up anything I would hate until it passed. Once she brought the matter to my attention, I kind of went back for years and counted all the major brawls I had been in and... They were all around that same time-frame of the months past. It was only men too. The women in my life did not incite such ire or irritability.”
“Well, you don't have a uterus to grow a cushy lining and then flush with cramps and cystic acne.” Leila laughed. “But based on the data they were able to obtain without an internal Ultrasound conducted, you have a probably non-functional right ovary and a much more probable functional left one. You might ovulate eggs every month, they just don't have anywhere to go and get fertilized, so your body is likely breaking it down and reabsorbing. And based on your anecdotal information about easily throwing hands every month, I would say you do perhaps suffer from premenstrual syndrome. Only your symptoms are less of the wanting ice cream while watching rom-coms variety and more of the outright violence and bloodlust. Maybe it's even a Lilû thing, that violent irritability towards other males. If this Lilû can not only impregnate females but also conceive, it's possible it only lets the fittest male sow his seeds in it's fields. If you can beat the shit out of them, they're not allowed to put a baby in you. In a Lilû, I mean. It's a theory.”
“I am confident I can 'beat the shit' out of both your parents. At the same time, even.” Trevor replied flatly, only realizing he'd committed the Cardinal Sin after the words left his mouth.
Either because she'd missed his implication or because he'd lumped Joachim in there as well, Leila gave him a free pass with the slip of the tongue. “I am really hoping you turn out to be a better boyfriend for my Dad than his deadbeat husband is at being a husband, but I still don't know how I feel about getting a run-down of your bedroom antics. That's my Dad, dude. Mother Danu, by the amount of women hanging off of him at all hours I know he fucks, but I don't like to hear about it.”
“Well, I'm not sure how to feel about the possible reason I've never gotten along with the other boys I grew up alongside with may very well be because unconsciously, on a biological level, my hybrid body found them poor breeding stock. Or how I feel about being a chicken...” Trevor sighed. “Do we truly have hundreds of thousands of eggs inside us just... Lurking about?”
“Join the club, man.” Leila scoffed, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “You think I enjoy stuffing my vaginal canal with cotton every month for five to seven days? Being a woman is only for the baddest of bitches.”
“Baddest in this context means good, right?”
Leila took a moment to grin at him, a wrinkling in her nose as she did so. That happened to Adrian as well, but only when you succeeded in truly coaxing out his mirth, which was hard to do, so rarely seen. That cute wrinkling was as endearing on her as it was upon his Dhampyre, and for some very odd reason, Trevor felt a sudden paternal pang in his chest while looking at her. “I think you're going to be just fine in the end here, New Guy. Or do I call you New Gal now?”
Paternal pang? Leila was the one acting as a parent and teacher in this moment. It was utterly absurd to have that sensation of fatherly pride swell in his heart, but there it was. “You can call me Trevor. That is my name.” He replied, giving her a light shove back. “I unfortunately never got to meet my daughters, but I sincerely hope they were as cool as you, Leila. I can't thank you enough for offering to help me like this.”
“I really didn't do much, aside from reading some papers and fetching some textbooks.” The Banshee deflected. “So how do you feel about your current situation now, is the important question.”
“I feel...” Trevor closed his eyes and took stock of his ferociously swirling shadows, still a maelstrom of uncertainty just waiting for a lax moment to overwhelm him yet again, but found he now had one solid foothold. It was not much, but he had said he needed only to know where next to place his foot to take back the reins earlier. With Leila's help and knowledge, he had clawed back that one foothold. “Not great, to be honest. I'm still... It's a lot of information to order in my mind. But I now understand how my body works, and how it is different from other men's, if not exactly why I am like this. It's a lot more than I had back when that 'anxiety attack' hit. I truly appreciate you taking the time to sit with me.”
Again the Banshee refused to accept that she had done anything of note, instead drawing his attention to the second book she had stolen from Joachim's shelves. She traded this new one for the old biology reference material and had him go through the index until he found the pages that pertained specifically to Lilin's. “Now here,” She began pointing to the dense and weighty tome. “This is written by demons about demons, for the education of fellow demons. It is an older edition, so only the more ancient demons are catalogued. No fancy hybrids like we see these days, and it still refers to Manbeasts as Beastmen. But, for our purposes, it's perfect! We may not know what exactly a Lilû is but from your document package, everyone at the Church research division seems pretty confident that it's the direct ancestor and missing link of the Lilin species. They are thought to have been extinct for over three centuries now, but your demon passport classifies you as a real live Lilin. So... Do you wanna take a look at what demons know about Incubi, Succubi, and Lilin's? I bet you weren't aware Lilin's had all the baby-making equipment either? Sounds kind of familiar, right?”
“I...” Trevor faltered, hand tracing the archaic depiction of a little known and believed to be extinct demon called a Lilin. Already he'd taken in a lot of information this evening on next to no sleep for days on end but... It was possible this book had enough to give him yet another foothold. Another step forward through the mire of misery and confusion. Exhausted or not, he nodded and accepted her offer. He'd cried already, and far more than Sonia Belmont would have ever approved of. It was now time to get himself back in order in rapid succession. “I would like to learn about my demon ancestors.”
Trevor spread the tome out between them both on the floor. He could not read Enochian, but with time he likely could one day. For now he would follow along with Leila as she read it to him, challenging himself to remember at least ten words and both how to write and pronounce them.
There were still a lot of unknowns that frightened him, but his own flesh and blood could no longer be counted amongst the shadows of them.
*****
Just a colossal mess, is what the bulk of the sewage plant could be described as. The crew hired in place had honestly done their upmost to mitigate and patch what they could to keep things running as best they were capable, but Alucard was forced to swallow his displeasure upon learning all the experienced staff had long moved on and the foreman he had depended heavily upon had passed away from an unexpected coronary failure. Alucard was then forced to acknowledge how utterly reprehensible it was that his first reaction to the tragic news was annoyance that the only other man who knew the system as well as Alucard did had up and died on him without ever training a replacement. It was an ugly and morally bankrupt knee-jerk reaction, but he'd still had it. It was his, and the Dhampyre had to own up to the fact he had been considering people in his private thoughts as commodities for years. Commodities whose lives he wanted to enrich and make better, safer, and more free, but whom he still treated and pulled around his chessboard like obedient pawns or soldiers. Not to mention, ultimately, this was Alucard's fault. He'd been absent for more decades than he had been present in the last two centuries, it was no wonder so many of the processes and best practices put in place had broken down along the chains of newcomers. Instructions relayed like a broken game of telephone played far too long. Everyone a little more lax than the previous for no other reason than due to lost experience of a kind that could not be taught. There had been no guiding hand to keep things in line.
So Adrian had two new foremen now. A middle-aged Manbeast who seemed to be the most on the ball out of the lot of them and a young Cyclops who showed a lot of skill with his hands and both caught on and could replicate Alucard's handiwork after only two demonstrations at most. Tomorrow would be more training and more repairs, and more cleaning. The scum buildup was seriously out of this world. It almost made him want to biopsy the gloopy horroshow and see if there was a new form of life growing inside the slime.
I might actually do that. Alucard admitted to himself as he rinsed the stench of sewage off his person in his otherwise vacant dwelling. It might be fun... And maybe Trevor would like to see live cells under a microscope?
Thoughts of Trevor gave him some spring back in his step, so he towelled off hastily and pulled on the most basic plain white teeshirt over a pair of black jeans so that he could dart upstairs. Barefoot even, and he never went about with his naked human feet on display, which just went to show how eager he was to check in on the brunette that had been on his mind and in his worries all damn night. Hopefully the poor thing had explored his new home and made a friendly acquaintance or two that could become a friend one day. Hell, even if he'd only made it as far as the couch to catch up on his days of restlessness, Alucard would take that as a win.
The first thing he noticed was the soft 'oldies' music drifting through the air. The exact kind you could waltz lazily to. The second was that there was a lemony and cilantro-laden sort of scent in the air, coming directly out from the kitchen. Third, that the lamps were only turned on sporadically in places, as if just enough to keep the main floor out of pure darkness. Combined with the complex aroma of whatever dinner was, the dimly lit atmosphere sort of gave Alucard a borderline sensual sense of intimacy. It felt as if he were to move too quickly or speak too loudly he might break the lulling spell that had been placed over the family home. In response to that murky ambiguous intimacy in the air, he lost all urgency that had sent him up the lift in bare feet, and instead found himself padding out into the cozy kitchen of which – to no one's surprise – contained only one solitary Vampyre slaving away over the stovetop out of love and a desire to feed their daughter a healthy, balanced and complete meal... To also provide for their pet rabbit's nutritional needs now as well, no doubt.
“Can I help?”
The offer surprised both the asker and the askee, but it was Joachim who managed to recover from the shock of the unorthodox offer first.
“Kitten, you don't even know what I am making.” The Vampyre scoffed in his usual tone, but Alucard did not miss how those silver eyes tried to steal glances at him in the Vampyre's not-so-secret attempt to ascertain if he'd lost his goddamn mind. Alucard didn't eat food as a rule. He sure as hell also did not have a habit of wasting time making stuff he did not have a use for. Like dinner.
Just because I do not eat regular meals does not discount the fact that my family eats regularly. His mind retorted. Part of taking care of them should be seeing to all their needs, right? Not just sheltering them and keeping them safe, but nourishing them as well?
That knee-jerk part of himself turned on that thought and argued back. They know how to make food, you just have to buy the food. And you do. That's your grocery money in that pot. You don't even know how to cook.
“I can learn.” He growled to himself in order to quell the duelling voices. Since when have I had a party-line in my head? One of me is more than enough to contend with, thank you.
“...If you are so insistent.” Joachim hedged, mistakenly believing his outburst had been in response to the Vampyre's accurate and deserved rebuff.
Well I can't say no now that I made scene about. Or fess up that I am having heated discourse with opposing sides of my own mind. He'll drag me to the Demon quack who calls themselves a doctor. The Dhampyre sighed inwardly and stepped into the kitchen properly to have Joachim show him the ingredients laid out for a Thai green curry and instructions on how to dice up each component. Joachim let him slide the goods in and instructed him on how to properly keep the stirring until the concoction reached a low roiling boil in a way that would keep the creamy base from burning along the bottom and ruining the taste of the whole. The green slop and constant stirring kind of reminded Alucard of assisting Sypha while she made medicine back in his childhood home that one time. He hadn't thought about that in... Wow. It had to have been a hundred or more years.
With only stirring to occupy himself now, Alucard watched Joachim from out of the corner of his eye pick up the oversized feline that had weaved dangerously through his legs as the Vampyre set the table. She purred loudly. Louder than a house cat should be able to purr. It was like a vintage car engine. It was like she was putting on a show or something. Like she's faking it. The asshole devil on his shoulder supplied, and while he managed not to laugh at his own joke, he did grin, which Joachim took note of.
“She's adorable, isn't she?” The great demon mused, burying his face in her plentiful fur. There might have been some cooing that followed as well, albeit muffled in white fluff.
She's a proper homewrecker. Alucard swallowed down that laugh too and instead managed to respond in a level tone. “Well, you said she reminds you of me, so I cannot in good faith refute that statement.”
“Oh Kitten. You need to work on your self-esteem.” Joachim laughed softly, just as he had been doing of late while in Trevor's company. That he was doing so now kind of made the Dhampyre feel like he'd scored a point for his own side. For some reason. Maybe he just missed being the Golden Child in the house, as being Joachim's favourite had granted him a lot of perks over the years. He'd gotten awfully comfy being the preferred lapdog and prime pet.
“Where did you get off to all day?”
The question stopped the Vampyre in his tracks, and Alucard really didn't feel like him asking where Joachim had been or what he was doing in their absence apart should have really been such the shock it evidently was. He seemed to be waiting for Alucard to take it back or grow bored and move on to some other topic. Which now that Adriam was aware that was what was expected of him, the Dhampyre stubbornly waited for his question to get it's answer.
“I am certain that is no interest of yours, Kitten. Just errands.”
“I am interested.” Alucard doubled-down. “I have fond memories of wandering around with you centuries ago but it's come to my attention that I have no idea what you're doing lately. How does a typical day in the life of Joachim Armster play out in 2037?”
“You are... Serious?” The Vampyre let the show-stealing feline go free to now fold his arms up tight around his torso. It was a defensive posture, likely unconscious. If Alucard had to say, it was most assuredly the vertical version of how his oldest friend would pull his knees to his chest and hug them just as tightly when he was upset or hurt while seated. It was exceedingly rare for the Vampyre to show such weaknesses or apprehension, no matter the form.it took. Which made it all the more significant, Alucard admitted, that Joachim had been emoting so often of late. Chalked up to fatigue or not...
Why are you so reluctant to tell me what you've been doing all day if it's a whole lot of nothing? What's the big secret? Now he was suspicious. Why the hesitancy? It couldn't possibly be due to dabbling half-assedly in necromancy again, could it?
Don't be an idiot. The silent angel on his other shoulder finally chimed in. The last time you asked him how his day went was eighty years ago. You are the one who is suspicious in this scenario simply by way of showing a sudden interest.
“I just want to know because I should care what my family likes to do with their time since I am back here for good. Because if I don't know what they like and are interested in, than how am I supposed to participate and form bonds with them over shared activities like a normal member of a normal functional household?” He hissed at the warring opinions in his mind, forcing them into silence.
Oh shit. I said that out loud, didn't I? One look at the hesitant Joachim confirmed he indeed had. Twice now he'd put his foot in his mouth.
“Truly, it was very uneventful...” His longtime friend at last divulged. “I went to catch a local comedy act before my errands. Today was Ondol's monthly Night Market. There is a arcanist family there that sells the best ritual supplies, as they adhere to the old methods of cultivation. They sell these under the guise of being a small organic produce farm, which incidentally is where many of tonight's vegetables came from.” When Alucard waited out Joachim's long-drawn pause – a pause clearly dragged out to give Alucard the time to dismiss the 'boring' rundown and move onto a more interesting subject of his own – the Vampyre sighed and gave in, come what may. “I... met with an acquaintance in nearby Rondac. They informed me the message boards from the profiles that share that symbol this Estefania utilizes have all gone dark. No activity. So no help there.” Alucard waited out another chance to change subjects, forcing Joachim to finish his 'boring' story about how his day went. “I dropped off some of the supplies I bought in Ondol at Grandmother's. It is hard for her to procure her own in these modern times, you know. She insisted I sit for tea so that she could inform me how much happier I am looking of late compared to how I have in a long time. She certainly seemed mighty pleased with herself for making that observation. She also wanted to know what was so different suddenly to affect my mood so drastically.”
“So what did you tell her was so different in your life that has you in good enough spirits even a poker face of your calibre can't hide how pleased as punch you are?” Alucard chuckled at the mental image of the ancient Vampyre squirming under an even more ancient immortal witch's scrutiny. She always had him by the balls in one way or another, be it through sound logic or maternal affection.
Poker face slamming down into place as if summoned by the mere mention of it, Joachim uncrossed his arms and stood tall... Well as tall as someone five inches shorter than Alucard could anyway. The elder demon should remember to count his lucky stars that his shoulders were built well enough, lest he'd be considered waifish. When Joachim finally answered the question, it almost sounded like he was responding to a direct challenge. “That you were home.”
Ahh. There we are, see? He is expecting you to roll your eyes at the sentimentality of his admission and subsequently brush him off with a quip about how if you wanted clingy and needy in your life you'd date another twenty-something year old influencer with boundary issues. Alucard grinned self-satisfactorily to himself having puzzled out the root of Joachim's reluctance, until realizing that the expression along with his usual modus operandi would likely be a self-fulfilling prophecy in short order unless he assuaged the elder Moroi's false assumptions stat. After all, I am the new model. A changed, evolved, and better man. The glue that binds all our collective little fractures. The shelter against the storms outside our little slice of paradise, and the fire in the hearth that both lights and warms the way. Leila's going to be the final challenge for sure, but I won't win her over until I win you first, buddy.
Setting the lid over the pot of Thai green curry and removing it from the heated element as per Joachim's instructions the slow-roiled boil was now done, Alucard closed the distance between them and pulled the other demon into his embrace. Joachim had been ready for a battle judging by his tense muscles, even with that stony mask of his betraying nothing. It didn't matter that he still would not relax into the embrace or that he still was likely expecting some kind of awful rebuff or for Alucard to belittle how much Joachim 'missed him' when they lived in a digital age where texts were traded globally. The Dhampyre went the extra mile to be as gentle as could be while handling a coiled viper, and tucked that sleek spool of silver under his chin, inhaling deeply the scent coming off the smaller body in his arms. It was absolutely a faux-pas to smell another demon like that unless you were in heat and mating or otherwise romantically together. Either way, openly scenting was best left to the privacy of one's bedchambers, and as the person who had taught Adrian if that specific distinction and socially acceptable Desire demon behaviour, Joachim was absolutely aware of the fact. The confusing blend of physical proximity and such an open act of what shoyld be deep, private intimacy had it's intended affect, throwing the Vampyre off-kilter enough he lost his defensive rigidity.
“Do you recall confessing to me not long ago about how the very simple reason you were first so drawn to Trevor was because he was always happy to see you?”
“...I do.” Joachim admitted, suspicion dripping from his silver tongue. “It is the truth. I am not welcome most places.”
That's right. We're demons. We're tolerated at the best of times. “That got me thinking about how even as the Demon Ambassador, I am also barely welcomed most places. I know plenty world leaders who are simply grinning and bearing it in my company.”
“You have accepted a terrible burden for the rest of us to have better chances, Kitten...”
“Maybe...” Alucard shrugged before wrapping his arms back around the smaller frame that was now tentatively holding him back. “What got me thinking about my whole current lot in life and how I am perceived and tolerated in various avenues was your observation about Trevor. I think that may be what attracted me to him so strongly once the general hunger and lust of our first meeting passed... That he always had his arms open to accept me.” Fighting off the powerful urge to ruffle the silky silver strands of hair tickling his nose lest he ruin the mood, Alucard instead ran one of his hands down the silver cascade in what he hoped was an appeasing way that would convey his feelings on the matter and help him repair the bridge he'd spent two centuries stealing the foundation from out under to use elsewhere. “All that is true about you too, Joachim. You are always happy to see me. You are always happy to be in my company, and you are always there for me when I need you. You have been a mentor, a father, a brother, best friend, my partner and more... And I've never acknowledged that. Why have I never acknowledged that?”
“You do not spare precious time for sentimental drivel, Kitten, and I accept that about you. There is a certain charm to your brusque nature.”
Oh, you got him right in the feels. The cheeky devil on his shoulder squealed. Look at him burying himself in your collar bones so you can't see how emotional you just made him, faking that your gratitude is no big deal.
Your long overdue gratitude is not some victory to wave or hold over his head. The angel on the other shoulder scolded them both. This was only the start of fixing this dysfunctional family.
“Don't” Alucard replied firmly. “Accept it, I mean. Trevor promised to tell me every time I am being an asshole that I have my head up my own ass. I would like you to as well.” Catching a sliver of a silver iris peeking up at him before darting away, Alucard elaborated. “It's the only way I am going to unlearn my bad behaviour. My assholery should be reserved for work, not my downtime with my loved ones.”
“Are you aware you have touched me more in this past week than you have in the past century?” The question was asked with a blatant incredulous tone, the Vampyre having moved far passed not wanting to upset the delicate peace between them to outright gesturing wildly in the direction of the elephant in the room. The look he was giving Alucard spoke volumes.
He thinks you've gone off the deep end, Chief. The little devil mused. Keep making such off-brand decisions and actions and you just might end up being dragged off to the quack demon 'doctor' at this rate.
Well, it's just not what he expects of you. Accepting change is hard, especially when it's long overdue and, well to be honest in this case, probably long written off as a pipe dream to boot. The angel rationalized. Just be consistent. He'll believe this isn't a delusional honey-moon phase induced by Trevor's addition to the household soon enough. He'll trust you again one day soon as freely as he used to.
“I told you that you were going to be sick to death of me in no time flat, didn't I?”
“Impossible...” Joachim repeated. “But keep trying. This is not unwelcome.”
It was the Vampyre who broke contact, moving to unplug the rice cooker that had clicked off from 'cook' to 'warm'. Why Alucard hadn't noticed it beforehand, nor had the chance to ask when they hell they'd gotten a rice cooker was a mystery he wouldn't solve this evening. For it was right about then, as he stood basking in the private glory of a victory he was not allowed to frame as a victory, that delicate Dhampyre ears picked up the hushed girlish giggling drifting out from the second floor. Girlish giggling that was a combined melody of Leila's staccato tinkles and one Trevor Belmont's rare and coveted drunken-girl titters.
Trevor and Leila.
Together.
Alone upstairs.
They are alone together, tucked away in a little room. Trevor had said she was pretty too...
It was only when Joachim shoved him back from leaping up to the first landing of the stairs did he realize he was climbing them. And it was only when he openly snarled, baring full fang, did he realize he was suddenly furious. Overwhelmingly, and unbelievably furious.
but is this actually fury..?
“Do you think I have not been keeping an eye on them, Adrian? That is my daughter up there alone with a man I believe she's developing a little harmless crush on. Regardless of my belief in Trevor Belmont's honour, of course I have been periodically listening in and monitoring them to ensure it stays appropriate.”
“Leila--” What reason could there be for this sudden fury, if that is what it was? Leila had made Trevor smell as if he was ashamed of himself the other night, so wasn't it within reason to worry that her tactless mouth and inability to read a room might hurt him further? Wasn't this more worry than fury, then?
“Leila is fine. Trevor is fine. You wanted Bunny to make a friend did you not? She has been helping him with a private matter and they've been having an amicable heart to heart while doing so. Calm down, Adrian, and give them a little leeway and trust.”
“I...” He took a deep breath in, cognizant of how unsteady it was. “I have some concerns... She said some awful things to him and you must have caught scent of how he felt about it.”
“I believe you have the wrong end of it. I do not feel it is my place to divulge what they have spoken of in perceived privacy, but I can assure you out of all the individuals in this whole village, Leila was the person our pet Rabbit needed to speak to the most.”
“But...”
“Did you not just sweetly reveal to me how I have always been one you could count on? Why not trust me now about this? If there was even a hint of anything occurring up there that lacked innocence I would have removed all of Bunny's bones, Kitten. I adore him, but she is my little Angel.”
I think you're going to have to surrender this one. Being the better more evolved version of yourself means you probably need to compromise here and there. Trust your family and stuff. This might just be an opportunity to prove you are committed to change with consistent actions. It seemed the little devil and angel were of one mind here.
“You're right and I do trust you, especially when it comes to her.” There. It wasn't so hard after all. He didn't need to have a hand in every single thing just for the satisfaction of knowing it was resolved to his liking.
“Kind of an odd place to hang out, wouldn't you say?” Trevor's honeyed tone carried only the ghost of amusement, as it was as clear as crystal the suffering thing had not gotten any sleep in yet another day. Spoken as he leaned over the top floor railing, Leila hovering close by as she watched what she no doubt assumed was the start of another fight between Alucard and Joachim.
That kind of annoyed him, but he swallowed it down to instead improvise on the fly. The playlist of oldies music was just gearing up the Fred Astaire classic 'Cheek to Cheek', which was the perfect segue he needed to play-off and obfuscate the little tense stare-down that had just occurred on the landing. With the Vampyre distracted by their sudden guests, Alucard was able to reach out and snatch him up, hopping down to the ground floor with a smooth twirling leap together, hand gripping the side of the most snatched waist on a man that could possibly exist, while the other clasped hands to start dancing as the song commanded, 'cheek to cheek'.
“Our Vampyre companion was trying to run away when I asked him to dance.” Alucard lied through his teeth while he laughed at Joachim's abysmal attempts to mess up his footwork and constant failed twisting out of his grip whenever Alucard gave him a twirl.
“Oh?” Trevor tilted his head to one side in a short Belmont Pause. “Well, I see this as suitable payback for that time he had me playing the violin all night. So I'll allow it.”
“Oh you'll allow it, will you?” Joachim scoffed, using the next moment he was twirled to hoist himself up from the ground and levitate out of Alucard's reach. “I never forget a slight, Bunny, be warned.”
“Get back down here. Food is ready.” Alucard folded his arms and gave a gracious grin up towards the lowering demon. He'd played along suitably and the other two were none the wiser over what tantrum of his had almost transpired.
Amazingly, Leila did not spit out the curry once she learned who had actually made it although she did not make any suggestions or observations that it was anything beyond palatable. On the other hand Trevor was a little too impressed by the dish. Almost to the point Alucard might have considered the praise a veiled insult... But he'd had a few victories today under his belt so even if this was a backhanded compliment, he'd roll with it. You couldn't win em all, after all. The fact that dinner consisted mostly of Trevor asking him about his day while Joachim seemed wholly consumed by inner thoughts and Leila firmly committed to non-engagement was also a win. Right now, all four of them at the table without outright war breaking out was a victory. Hopefully, that goal-post could be moved in the nearby future.
Dinner finished in relative peace, Joachim chased everyone off to tidy up in solitude, claiming he needed the mindless chore to think about a matter. Trevor followed Alucard down below but abandoned him immediately to shower once he became distracted by the tea box sitting on a work table. He was supposed to have fixed that mug first and foremost, wasn't he? Another time then. There would be time, and Alucard was already brainstorming a way to repair it in a fashion that would make the memento more than a reminder of a nasty fight. He turned off the main power and followed the soft blue lights to the sunken bedroom, undressing in no hurry as he waited for Trevor to finish washing.
Whatever suspicions he'd had about Trevor's reluctance to remove or be seen without hia clothes had also either been strictly in his head or Trevor had worked through the hiccup, as it was the familiar athletic nude form in all it's tantalizing glory that stepped out in a cloud of steam to greet the awestruck Dhampyre. Body moving as fluid and languidly as a panther, the Hunter stalked him and made quick work of the take-down, pinning his mostly unclothed self beneath dripping toned thighs, flesh still overheated from the water. With one of those full body rolls Alucard so loved to watch Trevor perform, bonus points when done on top of the Dhampyre, the Hunter placed a hand by the side of his head and bent over him to stare down his wholly captive prey through a curtain of warm chestnut. An appraising gaze, certainly, and judging by the satisfied noise Trevor made under his breath, Alucard had been worth Trevor's efforts. It was as dangerous a thought as it was titillating.
“Hmm...” The Hunter flashed his teeth almost threateningly. It was exciting how domineering such an unassuming man could be with just a fire in his eyes and a touch of a sneer. “How would you feel in knowing that I find you suitable breeding stock, Adrian?”
That was... Not on my Bingo card for today.
“I would... Hope that you not judge me too unfavourably when I admit out of all the things you have ever said about me... Somehow, that is the sexiest one.” Perhaps going by the raging erection escaping the top of his briefs said all that needed to be said. And for a hot minute there Alucard wasn't sure if he was about to fucked within an inch of his life or not, but in the last minute of the attack Trevor seemed to have a change of mind.
The thighs gripping his waist reversed their positions with ease, and then pulled him into the prime position to take what he was being offered. Since Lisa Țepeș did not raise a fool, Alucard pulled open the bedside drawer and dug blindly for lubricant. Just enough to get in there for it seemed like this offer was for a limited time based on how impatient Trevor was with his bucking and clawing. The Dhampyre had an inkling that if he didn't satisfy this hungry cock-whore immediately the consequences would result in him walking funny for the rest of the week. That might actually be fun, maybe. He might have considered it a bit too. But he needed to work physically in the sewage plant this week and it would not be a very good example to display for the younger staff if their quote unquote boss came in with a destroyed ass and a sore back. At least not while they were still getting to know him beyond his Ambassador facade.
That was about as far as he got with active and straying thoughts before Trevor consumed his every attention. The Hunter was by in large the most active he'd been while on the receiving end yet, and if Alucard had had a moment to spare the thought, he might have joked about the brunette really coming into his own. The Dhampyre was pinned once more and mounted as Trevor had learned exactly where felt the best for his own pleasure and how to move atop Alucard to maximize the friction in that sweet spot. In fact it quickly became clear Alucard was secondary in this little dance tonight, and if the sight of Trevor power-bottoming his way to orgasm hadn't been so mouthwateringly delicious to behold, he might have been a little miffed about being used in that fashion. In a stunning moment of dominance and beauty, Trevor came first and hard. He rode out his orgasm to completion before leaning back over the body below him to reengage and slow things down the way Trevor had learned Alucard preferred making love.
“Thank you for your patience” The Hunter whispered by his ear before leaning back just enough to capture his lips.
Now it was hot and heavy, slow and deep. Intimate nearly to the point the emotions behind their shared act grew painful. Breaths in the same sync as their locked lips and rolling hips, it would not have been too far from the truth to say there was some kind of sexual healing taking place in the soft blue light. Trevor surrendered piecemeal, in the end allowing Alucard lay him back down in the tangle of sanguine sheets he'd picked out, covering them in crimson and gold to keep the building heat between them from escaping. When Alucard crested that great horizon he almost choked back a sob, unsure why he was so emotional about the whole affair. He wasn't the one who'd been out days of sleep. He wasn't the one who'd had his whole world turned upside down.
Trevor pulled him down and held him tight wordlessly. That was fine. Maybe that was all they needed in the end. Once it became clear the Hunter had finally drifted off into the deep slumber he so desperately needed, Alucard followed suit.
He awoke in a strange place, vaguely familiar in a fever dream-like sense, if not for the geometry that could only be described as wrong. Long shadows were cast out from the confusing and altogether disturbing architecture, like inky fingers that Alucard somehow, through instinct alone, knew he could not allow to grasp him. He felt the danger, crawling across his skin.
Trevor was staring at the ever closing shadows, seemingly unaware of the threat the pitch would bring. Alucard knew then that this was a dream as only in such a construct could he run so far and so fast and not make any headway. At the last pivotal moment Dream Trevor seemed spooked by what was coming and easily came to his side. Dream or not, Alucard felt relief having him close.
The mist was thinning out here and there, and he was certain in the distance there was a tower. A Spire. Something about the twisted shape made him homesick and flighty all at the same time. Still, those shadowy fingers kept stretching and growing... Reaching. They had to move, so he took Dream Trevor by hand and skirted their reach, focused on making his way towards the Spire in the distance.
Dream Trevor kept pulling against him however, and it was only when his single-minded Spire focus broke did he realize the shadow hands had Joachim by his ankles, thighs, wrists, arms and even by the Vampyre's pale throat. So many molesting shadows and all stemmed seemingly from a central murky body. This amalgamous murky whole rose up from behind the Vampyre, larger than life itself and eclipsed the elder demon with a sense of malice.
No. He cursed the shadows in his mind. Don't touch him. Don't touch either of them.
In the way only dreams could function, they were all suddenly at the twisted Spire. Or more accurately, Joachim and Trevor were confined inside while Alucard was barred at the gates. Their dream counterparts held one another, but otherwise made no effort to free themselves. They looked defeated and lost. Alucard moved but found he was trapped at the barred windows now, unable to breach the prison. While the shadows were closing in, Joachim let Trevor go. Alucard was left uselessly reaching through the bars to hold the Hunter as Dream Trevor and Alucard watched the Vampyre once more be pulled about and forced down into submission by undefinable blackness.
No, this isn't right. You can't have them.
Dream Trevor was clutching him through the bars even tighter. So tight the pressure of the otherworldly metals hurt. There was something wrong with him. The Spell Seal was seeping blood. Alucard felt like he was losing them while they were right before his eyes. His family. Desperate to try anything, he remembered reading about lucid dreams once upon a time. People could take back control of their dreams when they turned as sour as this one currently was. It was worth a shot.
Let them go. If you're here to torment me, than torment me. But you can't have them. Either of them. They're mine.
He had an impression that the Vampyre may have been cowering, but as Alucard had never seen Joachim do that, not even his dream logic could supply the proper image. So all he was left with was a distressing amalgamation of every moment Joachim had been disappointed or hurt by Alucard trying to fill that void. Only now they were caused by this outside shadowy force, clawing tendrils worming their way inside his defeated Vampyre Master's guts.
The bars were gone and Dream Trevor was firmly in his arms, bloodied and weak, but Joachim was so far away. Consumed by blackness and too afraid to even reach out towards him for help.
What could a shadow in my dreams possibly want with Joachim? What you should want to torment, well it's me. I am the one who helped sever Dracula's soul. I am the one who sealed the Castle away. I am the one who hid the stones, and I am the one who is going to kill that High Priestess and take them back. I am the one who is going to stop all of this madness once and for all. So you will give him back. He is not your concern, he is mine. You got that? He's mine!
“Not for much longer.”
Alucard scrambled out of bed, collapsing to the floor. One hand was clawing at the ear he had felt the deathly expel of air graze from that equally deathly promise made. The flesh there nearly burned to the touch. From where he sat he could see Trevor's sleeping form, peaceful and relaxed, his breath an even rise and fall. Reconciling with the fact that he may have just had his very first nightmare, the Dhampyre found his way back into bed, cuddled up close to Trevor's pliant, innocent form, and was deeply grateful his anomalous experience had not stolen Trevor much needed rest. Tightly wrapped together with his precious Prințesă, Alucard lay still until well past midday when Trevor roused.
He'd not so much as had an extended blink since the nightmare.
The ear the threatening promise had been whispered into was still burning as well.
It had only been a nightmare, easily explained by stress and circumstance. However disturbing... It was probably nothing, right?
Notes:
I feel the need to stress once more that Trevor's struggle with 15th Century women's rights, their 'place', his lived experience, and what he thinks/feels vs sees in the modern age is still an ongoing hurdle for him. He'll get there eventually guys.
So will Adrian who is absolutely using all his super-powers to divorce himself from the shell of a man he became w/o his boo. Unless Joachim commits him to a psyche ward first for suspiciously not being On-Brand. Or he really does date another twenty-something Influencer with boundary-issues and TB & JA both throw him to the curb.
Chapter 58: A Celebration in two parts Pt 1.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Wallachia, Romania ~ Belnades Coven
“You know, ignoring everything else that has got to be behind the scenes growing into an ever huge-mongest shit-storm with this High Priestess and my new grandfather and the insidious threat to the state of elemental, spiritual and profound Order from the forces of abject Chaos... This right here could be a taste of what our lives together should be, Hambone.”
Glancing over at her from a sprawl against the opposite end of their shared couch, large meaty fingers digging deep into pressure points of the soles of her feet in such a perfect way to as to work months of fatigue from her aching joints, Hammer simply gave her a lazy, content, and adorably lopsided grin. They were both still stuffed from a brunch hours ago that could have fed the Romanian Armed Forces, which of course had been fitting as Hammer's small platoon of brothers and the man's parents had arrived just that morning for the official first gathering of their families. Their American guests were blending right in with the Coven; Children from East or West, North and South running about and observed by equally varied gangs of adults from all across Europe, North and South America, Spain, Greece, Turkey and Africa.
The men and women of the Belnades Coven had spread far and wide for research and work, most of them finding love somewhere along their journey. It made for extremely interesting family gatherings throughout the years.
“I'm pretty sure my brother is trying to pick-up one of your cousins.” Hammer snorted with a head tilt towards the aforementioned brother shooting his shot.
“Oh, little Axel's got good instincts. Essie will one hundred percent do that. She's a Tantric mage and very open to demonstrating the benefits of sexual expression.” Enjoying a hearty laugh with her man, Yoko sat up so that she could better scooch over and fold into to his side, leaning a head against his shoulder once comfortably in place. It was quite odd to feel the tailored woven wool of Hammer's suit jacket against her cheek when she was so used to expecting a durable yet a little on the course side linen tee. "You look really handsome and like a successful independent businessman right now. You're making me feel self-conscious about not owning a dress that can keep up with your style. Or even just a dress.”
“You could wear a potato sack, YoBear. Nothing would detract from your charms.”
“What a flirt. It's working, so don't stop.” Sharing another laugh, it trailed off when Yoko suddenly felt a little shy. Odd behaviour for a woman like myself, but what were you gunna do when your body reacts a certain way? Better to just roll with it than fight it, she believed, anyway. “Gramps said he was going to make Alucard buy me a fancy party dress for all the stress he put me through babysitting him... Well he didn't say it in quite that way, but he absolutely did promise me a glitzy gown. You wanna help me pick one out when we do go shopping? I'm going to remind him he owes me tonight.”
There was a mischievous twinkle in Hammer's eyes and his lips parted almost like he was a boy with a secret he could hardly contain. But whatever it was, he did contain it, instead replying rather smoothly. “We're definitely going to have to find an occasion to warrant such a pricey dress... Since we both know you're going to break the Dhampyre's bank or die trying.”
“When opportunity knocks, so they say.” She agreed readily.
“Low-key, looking forward to seeing Jules and his lady. I've wanted to know what Eliza is like off duty for years so I am pretty stoked you invited them to your Yuletide celebration.”
“Hambone, Have you secretly been some kind of summoner all these years and never told me?” Yoko hissed through her teeth, now sitting rigidly straight up on the couch, eyes locked on the commotion in the alcove of the gathering hall. As if Hammer's words has conjured up the demon herself, a blinding shimmer of white and diamonds now stood inside Yoko's family home, being welcomed and introduced to her family members from the days old baby Olivia up to her eldest living great aunt Maria. “Oh shit, check out Jules!” Uttered with a harder than she'd meant it to be smack of Hammer's arm, Yoko gestured towards the luxurious black suit and tie her normally functionally dressed, albeit with a tiny bit of flair, partner in crime was currently sporting. Even his hair was freed from the usual ponytail, tamed, and parted to the side with a glossy sheen visible from even their current distance.
“Oh yeah, I believe all those claims about him being a lady-killer back in the day now. My heart just did a barrel roll in here.”
Yoko jumped to her feet in preparation as her mother guided the newest addition to their party through the gathering hall. There was a reason Yoko, as the daughter of the Coven's Matron, was not helping in the kitchen, or preparing the dining hall or other such helpful tasks instead of loafing as a guest, and that was because her job had just glided through the door. As Julius' paired Arcane Specialist and thus closest work colleague-turned cousin, Yoko's job was, simply put, to entertain Eliza Levin all night. It made the most sense to keep them feeling welcomed for their first visit to her Coven's ritualistic practices and celebration for the most familiar face to them to be tasked... Nevermind the logic that her mother actually fit that bill better than Yoko. But her Mama was occupied everywhere overseeing everything tonight.
Hammer stood up as well just as her mother was coming around for the hand-off of their freshest guests, dusting off his perfectly clean suit and squaring his shoulders as if gathering his own courage to face the Iron Maiden was required, even in peace times.
“Welcome.” Yoko oozed sweetly, taking Eliza's hand in hers briefly before pulling Julius by the arm into a much warmer and genuine embrace. “You're so hot right now, Jules, I actually hate you. Everyone looks like they're red carpet ready and I am just in the only clean skirt and button down I had in my carry-on.”
“I warned you to put all your valuables in your carry-on, Yoko. Anytime you travel with Alucard you run the risk of something going awry. The man is cursed.” Jules huffed back, neither accepting nor refuting her compliment by way of simply ignoring it all together. Rude.
“I didn't believe you.” Yoko admitted, at a loss. “How could my luggage vanish from a privately chartered jet?”
“I was unaware of this unfortunate mishap, AIA Belnades. I shall have Melissandre look into the matter for you post-haste.” From out of a small clutch, the Iron Maiden pulled a phone in a case encrusted with diamonds and gold and proceeded to send off her orders to Missy just as “post-hastily' as she'd said she would.
“Oh... Madame Director, you didn't have to pester her off hours for something like that.”
“Melissandre's compensation for her flexibility and availability is quite generous, rest assured.” The Ice Queen paused for just a brief moment, pocketed her phone, and then seemed to reboot her system right before a stunned Yoko and Hammer's eyes. “Yoko.” She stated the name like she was testing the sound of it removed from any job-titles of honorifics. It was quite jarring to hear her name spoken plainly on those carmine painted lips, absent of her designation within the Church. “I am pleased to have been invited by you, and to be a guest in your home, Yoko. While I am partaking of your generous invite, please feel free to refer to me simply as Eliza.” The woman smoothed back her perfectly smooth and styled hair, down from it's usual tight up-do into side-swept and multi-comb pinned cascade over her shoulder. It wasn't hard to miss that for one, Eliza definitely had slept with rollers in her hair like an Americana housewife to pull this off, Yoko was sure. As for the second observation, those brilliant combs were not only bejewelled with diamonds, but authentic pink pearls and moonstones as well.
Yoko hated that she was about to admit this after all her years of staunch gag-reflexes, but she swallowed down her pride and delivered her honest feedback. “Of course, Eliza. May I say that you look absolutely stunning tonight? Your jewellery is is so eye-catching.”
Goddamn Jules had the audacity to giver her a smirk over Eliza's perfectly coiffed head.
FINE, Julius. You win. You have a beautiful girlfriend and do not get hot and heavy with a scaly lizard-person. Fine.
“Ah, right. Where are my manners when there's introductions to be made. This is my boyfriend Hammer.” Yoko gestured towards the hulk at her side, introducing her boss and her man proper. “Hammer, this is my organizations head, Eliza Levin.”
“The questionably legal arms dealer, correct?” Eliza's briefly human gaze hardened again to ice as she shook Hammer's hand, almost refusing to let go once decorum and politeness dictated she should. “Charmed to confirm.”
“Oh, I have business registered in several countries.” Hammer replied confidently. “Government contracts too. Very legal.”
The Iron Maiden raised a hand to stop both of them from continuing down this line of dialogue, doing one of those little system reboots at the same time. “I must apologize. We are here to enjoy the night and celebrate new family connections, are we not? Business should stay at the door, would you not agree?”
It was agreed universally, and so following that firm ground rule being established, Yoko went on to find it was not so horrible as she feared to hang out with her boss on her off hours. Eliza was well travelled, well read and well informed on news and politics, thus she carried conversations no matter the topic. She was polite and reserved, and yet still fulfilled the role of an excellent 'straight man' for Julius' sense of humour to play off of. The pair of them actually... Really worked together, the sorceress swallowed down her vomit to admit. Forced to concede, as well, that the pair truly were in love with one another, if Eliza's fractional lip curls and heated glances in Jules' direction meant what she thought they did. The Iron Maiden was proud of her catch, and the playful preening Julius did at her side made it all too obvious he was all too pleased to be caught. Their chat grew into a meandering tour of the common grounds and indoor gardens, topics light and far removed from anything Church or deadly Priestess related until they finally found themselves back in the great gathering hall. Here Hammer's parents were ecstatic to meet Julius, whom they had heard so much about from both their son and his girlfriend. Eliza's glam factor seemed to cause Hammer's mother to suffer a little loss for words, but she soon recovered and lead the conversation going forward. Yoko could understand, as she too was feeling under-dressed for the party. It was getting very close to the feast being set out by the time they'd settled back down, coincidentally, it seemed, at the right moment to catch the biggest whirlwind of action and energy that evening yet.
That man is legitimately a God amongst us mortal worms. Yoko could only think to herself as she caught sight of the immaculate and radiant head of white gold curls lain against a pristine charcoal suit.
Accepting the offer to hang his suit-coat graciously from one of her Aunts revealed Alucard's dress shirt was a shade as deep as the darkest red wines, overlain with an intricate black lace stitching. The pop of colour – rare on it's own for the dedicated Black on Black enthusiast that Alucard tended to be – was exquisitely juxtaposed by the refined waistcoat, whose buttons and cinching at the back was such an understated gold detailing, matching perfectly the equally simple gold cufflinks, that the whole ensemble elevated to humble, effortless elegance. It was just not fair at all for a man to be that painfully beautiful and built like one of those marble statues at the same time. The Dhampyre should have been forced to pick one or the other.
“Sexy sunnuva bitch.” Hammer grumbled half in jest. At least Yoko was not longer alone in feeling like she was dressed in rags. “Putting everybody here to shame, the showboating bastard.”
Alucard, who belonged in a Palace ballroom and not in the alcove of the Belnades gathering hall, who was currently too swarmed by the titters and attention of her fellow Sisters to take note of them yet, wore the smallest, polite, benign smile fixed in place as he did his best to keep up with the greetings and respond to the barrage of inquires and downright gushing deluge out of his gathered fan club. To anyone not familiar with the man on a personal level, which Yoko had come to realize was a surprisingly tiny pool of people, you would have never guessed the Demon Prince was squirming from the overwhelming discomfort brought about by teenaged girls.
“Oh man, look at his face.” Jules noted with a chuckle. “Have you ever seen a man who wanted to run away so badly yet knew he had nowhere to flee? I'd like to pass a motion on hating him the most now, though. I brushed my hair and everything tonight and for what? To be outdone by an eight hundred year old man?”
“That man is the... That's Demon Ambassador, right?” Hammer's mother held a hand half up to her face, as if unsure she wanted to cover her mouth or her eyes. “The pictures don't do that boy no justice. He looks just like an angel.”
“Motion accepted, Jules. I agree, we should hate him the most. The sight of him alone has done gone and given my mother a religious experience.” Hammer snorted back at Julius.
The sea of Sisters parted to make way in order for Giustina Belnades to greet the Demon Prince properly, and once she had, Yoko watched her mother brighten to the brim as Alucard struggled but succeeded in catching the smaller man doing his best to cower in the tall demon's shadow and urge him around into the light, front and center.
Adorned in a simple three piece grey suit, much softer in colour than Alucard's, with an even simpler white shirt to pair, the only glitz on Trevor Belmont's attire was the gold splash from his tie and pocket square. His hair was worn down and parted to side simply just like Julius', funny enough. It was as if they'd planned it. Yoko could tell he was uncomfortable and eager to bolt just based on how his eyes seemed to be touching every escape route open to him from the alcove, but like the Dhampyre, her grandfather had a schooled and reserved mask in place. He nodded greetings instead of speaking them, and kept his hands to himself and his body away from the rabble of women only all too eager to reach out and touch their living history. This was the man whose unexpected unearthing had returned their covens first matron, Sypha Belnades, honour and contributions to peace and Order back in the 15th Century to the history books. Of course they were eager to feel the warmth that Sypha had, and that had left her with the children more than half the people in this hall were alive today because of, but Gramps was in too shy a mood to indulge them. That changed, however, when the eldest among them, great aunt Maria, was wheeled out before him so the old woman could get a better look with her failing eyesight at the face of her heritage.
Great Aunt Maria spoke Spanish only, so it was in Spanish that she uttered the beginnings of a blessing for the father of their Coven. Due to her years the poor thing's mind was not quite as sharp as it used to be, so as the elderly woman stammered to a stop, momentarily unable to recall the rest of the blessing and beginning to grow flustered because of that, Trevor Belmont surprised them all by kneeling down in front of her wheelchair to take both her hands in his. In nearly perfect Spanish, with only the barest hint of a French accent, Trevor Belmont soothed her distress away with a few gracious words, and then proceeded to help Great Aunt Maria to finish her intended blessing once again from start to finish.
Continuing in that astonishingly good Spanish he smiled up at his elderly descendent and flattered unabashedly. “I have met some very pretty faces here already, but I can already tell that you are the most beautiful of all my granddaughters.”
Yoko hadn't realized she was teary until Hammer's mother was passing her a tissue to clean herself up. It was just that she hadn't seen great aunt Maria that emotional since... Ever. There may have been a veritable God standing amongst them in the form of Alucard, but it was with one considerate and sweet gesture towards an ailing old woman that plain old Trevor Belmont captivated the whole of the Coven. The unspoken barrier was broken, and the air about him at once relaxed. Trevor Belmont finally stood ready to accept the affection and perhaps reverent touches of his flesh and blood living family. Repeating names back to woman after woman as if ensuring he had it correct, and that he truly was committing them all to memory, Trevor opened his arms for their embraces. Children were lifted to show him here and there if they weren't old enough to greet him on their own – which Yoko noted her grandfather clearly enjoyed. The Hunter looking especially smitten when only days-old Olivia was pushed into his ready arms as Lucia and her husband Bruno were introduced to their ancestor. The man even cooed when Olivia did that newborn shrimp curl as he cradled her. His jokingly soft request that Alucard put the baby in the car to take back home with them may have had a hint of a threat going by Alucard's stiff, nervous reaction.
Maybe.
Alucard did look several degrees more uncomfortable, now that Yoko's attention was back on the Dhampyre. It's not like his opinion on the subject was a big secret as the demon freely and openly had claimed once that babies made him nervous, while Trevor on the other hand took pride in his role as a father and whose largest regret, by his own accord, was not being able to fulfill his role as one to completion. So... Maybe. It made Yoko wonder how Alucard would react if Lucia asked them to babysit for an evening, and after imagining the comedy of a baby-lover and a baby-hater co-caring after an infant played out in her head, Yoko high-key couldn't wait for an opportunity to orchestrate just such a situation. A nanny-cam was one hundred percent the next thing she was going to buy in anticipation.
“Now, that is quite the homecoming...” Eliza mused out loud to no one in particular.
“I had no idea he spoke Spanish.” Julius also commented to no one specific party.
“While I am also super surprised, it does make sense. He was Great Mother Sypha's lover and the father of her children. She must have taught him while they lived together.” Yoko speculated out loud. There was likely a practical reason as well, that being Spanish was not exactly common in Romania. If they had needed to discuss Arcane matters and avoid being put to the pyres, a secret language was a pretty good cover to utilize, and the fact it was a foreign tongue and not some arcane or demonic language would have given them plausible deniability. “I'm more impressed his accent is almost non-existent with it. You've heard how heavy it is in Romanian and English. Maybe Great Mother Sypha was a harsh teacher.”
Mama was quick to sink her claws back into Trevor as the fervour of her Sisters died down a bit, and before Alucard could even blink, she'd stolen his man from right out under his nose and whisked him away towards the cordoned off inner sanctum. That was where Yoko, Lucia, and her Mama's personal chambers were situated, and where the rites for tonight would be attended by the Coven later. The High Priestess of the Belnades Coven must have wanted to show their forefather the sacred space in privacy so that she could speak to him on a more open and personal level without all the excitement and distractions of the gathering hall interfering. This underhanded move did leave the poor Dhampyre standing there for a measured moment, shaking his head slightly and blinking a few times in confusion at how fast he'd been abandoned to the rabid wolves that were her Sisters. Like Alucard were nothing but some sacrificial lamb to appease the masses. Even without Trevor's star-power to shield him from the fangirls gathered, it turned out Demon Prince was exceptionally capable of extricating himself once Alucard had concluded he'd more than tolerated enough fawning over his person.
Without a single fuck to give, the Demon Ambassador morphed into a faint cloud of mist – much to the delight of some and fright of the others – and weaved through the crowd until he materialized by their small party's side. Hammer's mother, father, and another brother who'd wandered over while all eyes were on Trevor Belmont were understandably a bit flabbergasted at the show of Dhampyric powers, but they each notably recovered pretty quickly in their own right for normies. That being said, the presence of the normies in question as well as Eliza Levin at Julius' side coolly observing him did visibly startle Alucard, the shock stealing whatever he had been about to say.
So Yoko broke the ice instead. “This is hot. You're hot right now.”
The Dhampyre's eyes gave little away as he gave each face a pass-over. It was easy to guess what he was thinking, so Yoko let him know this was not a stuffed shirt and dry social obligation. He did not have to be Ambassador Țepeș tonight in her house. “We're all friends and on a first name bases here, Alucard. This is Gunner and Maple, Hammer's parents. This is Flint, one of his older brothers. Julius and Eliza, you are well acquainted with.” Allowing them all a moment to shake hands, and for Maple to do her own bit of gushing at this real live angel taking her hand, Yoko pivoted right back into being a brat, demanding an answer to her burning question. “What made you wear this shirt? It's a sexy shirt, and you don't really do flashy, sexy shirts.”
Alucard, nodding slightly to no one but himself it seemed, pulled his arm and by association, his sleeve out of her grip and smoothed down the wrinkle she may or may not have caused before answering. It seemed he'd gotten the vibe memo loud and clear off her, and let slip a huge chunk of decorum by the wayside to reply in a more familiar tone, if still more formal than he was when they were alone. “Do not say that too loudly or you will lose me a five Euro bet. I am of the opinion this is too extravagant a garment to suit me but Trevor insisted this was the shirt, or there would be no shirt.”
“And you folded like a wet paper bag for him, as per usual.” Julius snarked.
“You should know foremost, Julius Belmont, that the members of your Clan make no idle threats.”
“That's true.” The elder Hunter conceded. “Perhaps Yoko would have preferred you'd gone with the no shirt option, but I am on Team Sexy Shirt. You agree, Liza?”
Frosty as ever, the Iron Maiden trained her gaze over every inch of the living marble statue standing before her, finishing with a satisfied noise. “You are a cutting figure this evening, Ambassador Țepeș. To deny that fact would be to admit to one's blindness.”
Alucard hesitated a moment with his mouth open before sighing and surrendering. The degree of formality in his tone dropped yet another hair's width, as he responded in kind. “Trevor mentioned a desire to share his opinion that your hair ornaments are very beautiful, Madame Director, but he was unsure how to compliment you on them given recent... Shall we say, trying circumstances?”
“Trying circumstances is a polite way to define the current state of matters. I never noticed your plus-one glance this way once. Mister Belmont is quite observant even when it seems he is occupied.”
“Yes. As Trevor would proclaim to you himself, he does not miss much. Although I must correct you, Madame Director, as it is I who am the plus-one this evening. It seems to be a status we both share tonight.” Alucard closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Once he'd let the breath out slowly, that polite smile came back, screwed into place through sheer willpower. His focus fell on the still awestruck American woman, of whose hand he entreated back into a gentle squeeze and then a simple hold. “You must be where our dear Hammer gets his good looks from, Ma'am. It's my pleasure to finally meet you face to face, Maple.”
Goddamn. Two for two. Yoko stared in her own awe. Like Trevor, Alucard's smooth flattery of the older woman in their company turned all eyes on him, and raised the opinions concerning him of his onlookers instantly. While Jules and Eliza had shown themselves to be a powerful socially adept battle-couple, it seemed Trevor and Alucard were tandem snake charmers and heartbreakers, threat level Red. She looked over at Hammer, seemingly charmed himself by the devilishly beautiful angel seducing his mother right in front of her husband and children with ease, and wondered what people who think about their union. Would they say she and the entrepreneurial former army man by her side were a match made in heaven, or even simply a good fit? Did Hammer, who she knew enjoyed her company and cared deeply for her see even more for them? The future was kind of scary, what with her mother's divination and Lucia's visions. With that High Priestess out there with her hands on the stones, Julius had confessed, they were playing a waiting game... Sooner or later the Castle would be in a reachable state from a thinning veil in the Void. Whatever would come then and beyond, she appreciated that Hammer was here for her tonight. Right now was just as important as what was and would be.
“Are you, like, really a prince though? What kingdom?” Flint was asking, sounding confused but brave enough to speak to the aloof and otherworldly being in their midst once he'd heard Yoko and Julius engage.
“Technically, I believe the answer to that would be a negative. My father was a king of an realm that is currently sealed within the Void between our two worlds. Was, being the operative word in that statement. You are familiar with the Demon War of 1999?” When Flint nodded, Alucard continued. “My father was dethroned then. I would believe I've lost my birthright and claim to that title when I helped tear the crown from his head. People have persisted in referring to me as such, however. I suppose titles you hold for so long are hard to lose.”
“It's kinda crazy that I am talking to immortal demon royalty and you're just answering me like a regular dude.” Flint's voice wavered with his nervous laughter.
“Don't call the Ambassador a dude, Flint.” Maple hissed, wringing her hands on her purse handle, just as her husband Gunner had delivered a quick smack to the backside of his son's head.
“There's been no offence given or perceived. I was told we are all friends and on a first name basis this eve. You may call me Alucard, if 'dude' will get you into trouble, Flint. The same for you, Maple and Gunner. I am simply here as an escort tonight; Not in any official capacity.”
Eliza's presence be damned, Yoko couldn't help herself. It had only taken the last six months in Japan for the relationship between her and the Dhampyre to become one of bratty granddaughter and beleaguered Step-Grandpa, but the damage was done. She would never not be able to pounce on the opportunities like this Alucard foolishly laid out for her going forward. So while it scandalized poor Maple, Gunner, and their sons, made Julius roll his eyes, and made Eliza's widen a fraction as she no doubt filed their closer than Yoko'd reported friendship away to use one day, the sorceress flashed the demon a wicked grin and teased relentlessly. “It sounds so dirty when you call yourself an escort, Al. My mind is already running wild with the implication.”
Not one to be easily outdone, Alucard, stooped to her level. Bless the demon's flash of aggravation for lubricating the response, but even with their current audience present, Alucard inhaled long and deeply before he fixed her in place with a irate glare and hissed, lowly. “What my plans entail for the after-party are truly not your concern, Yoko.”
It was barely above a whisper, but the man might as well have shouted it given the flabbergasted and blushing responses of not just their immediate audience but the Sisters of her coven that were within earshot of the exchange as well.
“Love it. You two are relationship goals, you know?”
“You are wishing to lose three fourths of every argument and yet still be idiotically devoted? Because that's what this can all be boiled down to; Madness on my part.”
“Obviously I want to be in the Grandpa Trevor position of this scenario.”
“Hammer, I hope that you have people to pray for you.” The Dhampyre gave a soft snort. He opened up an arm to accept her rib-fracturing tight hug, and even gave her shoulder an affectionate, if brief, squeeze.
The hustle and bustle resumed as her Mama was leading the aforementioned Trevor Belmont, object of Alucard's slavish love and devotion, back into the main hall. He'd lost his own suit-jacket along the way, looking much more enticing, as Alucard did, in only the cinched waistcoat. Her grandfather's dynamically tapered frame was accentuated and quite eye-catching, Yoko couldn't help but note and chuckle at how many of her cousins and aunts around her had to remind themselves they were related by blood to the man they were growing a whole different kind of smitten with. Alucard had done well snagging Trevor Belmont for himself, and given how he was looking at the brunette in the same proud and predatory fashion Eliza Levin had looked at Jules' earlier, the Dhampyre was well aware of his fortunes.
Dinner was at last announced, and the much anticipated Belnades Yultide feast commenced. Yoko was seated next to Julius and Eliza, Hammer and his kin. Across from them were Alucard and Trevor, and by Trevor's request Great Aunt Maria and her daughters. Based on the tome the Hunter placed by the side of his cutlery, Trevor had returned alongside her mother with a grimoire gifted to him by her Mama. It was a base copy of the one their Great Mother Sypha had enshrined for her Coven, hand copied year over year and bound into a Book of Shadows every Belnades witch was provided when their powers began to manifest. Each Belnades was instructed to take Sypha's knowledge as a starting point, and from their ancestors launching point, to go out and hone their craft in their own way, while respecting the origin of their talents. It was their custom, as old as their Coven itself. While as much as her Mama may wish otherwise, Trevor Belmont was no witch or warlock, and he did not seem particularly inclined to become either in the near future. That fact laid aside, the symbolic gift of a copy of his late lover's life's work to keep and do with what he will had clearly touched him deeply. Throughout the courses of the feast Trevor's hands kept finding their way to the grimoire, even cracking the spine a few times when he thought he could get away from being the center of attention to look at Sypha's sacred learnings.
Oddly enough, as if to add more spice and entertainment to the evening, Alucard did pick at the food given only as a gesture to him for a change, in-between subtle but frequent attempts to check his phone. He made an effort to try a small bite of each dish on offer, and seemed to actually enjoy the pan de kastila enough that he filched Trevor's portion while the brunette was conversing with Great Aunt Maria in that impressive Spanish of his. The younger Hunter, bemused by Alucard's rare show of greed if Yoko had to guess, just let it happen with a tiny little giggle which, honestly, bordered on sounding girly to her ears.
Following that exchange was how Trevor's grimoire was cracked open with it's first clear purpose, and he beseech the nearby aunties to divulge their recipe so that he could write it down on the first blank page of the tome. Yoko's mother had evidently shared with him the significance of what he was asking. It was an unspoken understanding that the first blank page after Great Mother's Sypha's work concluded was supposed to be a sacred writ of passage for novice witches. What they placed there was supposed to guide their craft down it's natural, highly personalized path. This first blank page was supposed to symbolize a new witch's virtues and values. It was not a page to be filled lightly on a whim. Still, after a rather impassioned speech from Trevor Belmont about how food was above all other things, medicine for the body and mind, and about how after such a long life of violence and destruction that he was most looking forward to a life of peace, rebuilding and creating instead over his past of hunting down and destroying. Was it not appropriate that the first page of Trevor's grimoire be a family recipe for a sweet, nourishing treat that he could make for his favourite person to enjoy?
The boy was talking sense, in Yoko's mind. In everyone else's minds too, it seemed.
So Trevor got his recipe, and Alucard, by association, got a whole plate of pan de kastila's to enjoy all by himself. He clearly enjoyed the plate of treats and the obvious blush-inducing satisfaction that came from Trevor Belmont declaring in front of a hundred and fifty plus people that Alucard was his favourite person. It was satisfying enough apparently that their previous moratorium on public displays of affection went right out the window. Alucard pulled the Hunter in close on their shared bench seating, arm openly around his waist both affectionately and a touch possessively, while they peered over the earlier and easiest spells and wards Sypha had committed to paper.
After another long peek at his phone and an unhurried reply tapped out single-handedly, Alucard flipped the grimoire open to a basic warding spell and challenged the Hunter to see if he could conjure up such a 'baby' ward. Had he not been practising with Alucard's Vampyre Master for months to control his aura? Surely he could manage to pull it all together to make a tiny little ward, no?
“Can you?” Trevor countered, piqued by the challenge but hesitant to engage.
“This type of magick is entirely different from the source I utilize, and it is not an innate talent of mine to tap, unlike yourself, who does has an affinity for it. But yeah, I still think I could go in blind and figure it out before you pull it off.”
“You still have centuries of practice manipulating energy. It's not a fair fight. Can I ask for help?”
“It's a baby warding spell that would block rain and a light breeze at most. You can ask some other babies for help, if you want. I'll allow it.”
“Baby spells... Right.” Trevor's eyes narrowed. “This is going to be really embarrassing for you when my girls and I figure it out before you then.”
“Not going to happen.” The Dhampyre boasted confidently, already conjuring up the start of the ward, tapping into an unfamiliar root power he was not trained nor born with an innate affinity for before it fizzled out. “Don't give me that look, that's leagues ahead of you already.”
“Okay, Sir.” Trevor rolled his eyes and settled on the gathering army of tiny volunteers to help him puzzle out the basic incantation. “He's a mean man, don't you agree? Can you help make him be nicer to me? Or at least be quiet? I think if he was quiet that would be the best for all of us here...”
“So cute.” Yoko giggled, drunk on pink fizzy wine. Her little cousins were climbing and speaking over eachother in an effort to help Trevor master the simple conjuration, with some minor interference of their mother's whispering suggestions to put the girls on the right path. In a way this was great practice for all of them, and with a common goal to unite their efforts... That of making that mean man Alucard eat his words... Well, it certainly put a fire in them.
“Oh, you're really good at that, Oleana.” Trevor praised the girl who was coming the closest to working out how to weave the flows. “How did you make it bind like that?” Turning to the other girls, he whispered. “Do you know how to make it bend like that?”
On Alucard's part, he was certainly closer than he was on his first attempt, but there was a visible struggle trying to grasp the more delicate energies and make them behave to his will. Evidently Demon magick was more like wrestling a lion than crocheting a flower, that the Dhampyre was having a hard time easing off the force behind his weaves.
“This baby spell is sure taking you a while to master.” Trevor took time out to throw shade.
“I can pull hellfire from out of the bowels of the earth and leech the life forces out of everyone in this room in seconds, Trevor Belmont. That being said, the school of Demonic magick and this power are on opposite ends of the spectrum. My mastery of one does not give me any advantage with the other.” Adding a elitist sneer for good measure, Alucard made sure to insist. “I am a Master of one, which is more than we can say for you.”
“Your demon Master is a Master of both, Alucard. How come you can't even make a baby ward in this School of magick while he can do both?”
“About a thousand years of practice with a power that was not innate for him makes all the difference. My Master has also had some success as both a invocationist and in necromancy, but he's no longer allowed to experiment in that field after creating a spawn point on the second floor of my house. That's a story for another day, however.”
“Is that why there is a charcoal glyph drawn on the floor up there? To keep the, umm, spawn point under control?” Trevor asked suddenly invested in that anecdote. Yoko was glad, because she absolutely wanted the deets of that story.
“That's a story for another day.” The Dhampyre repeated firmly. “My point was, with determination and practice, you can achieve anything... And I am going to beat you because of that.”
“Right... With a baby spell.” Trevor threw up his hands and shrugged. “Try that again, Oleana. I think you got it. You guys think so too, yes?”
The little girl army nodded eagerly and cheered Oleana on as she was the first to pull it off. Her little stunt gave Alucard an idea and he nearly managed to replicate it himself, but the ward ultimately destabilized before completion. The demon was still unconsciously fighting the urge to force what needed to flow, and failing.
Yoko was learning somethings herself during this little contest that she'd never thought to ponder. Her talents were on the more destructive side of things, but she still allowed her energy to move with the natural flows of nature. To her and her Sisters, that was how Arcane magicks worked. She'd never wondered how it was for Alucard. Which she was now seeing was more about dominating and controlling his environment. Subduing the energy to enact his will. It was... Kind of fitting for a being all other demons referred to as their Demon Prince, the more she thought about it.
“Don't use my helper's ideas for yourself. They're my helpers, you cheater. You see girls, he's so mean and he never plays fair or follows his own rules.”
Oh, was the tide turned on the Dhampyre now. There was a whole preschool full of novice witches calling him a meanie and a bully, while all the more eager to help Trevor get the incantation right and show that 'big bad man' who was boss.
“Oh, you definitely have it down, Oleana. I think yours is perfect.” Trevor encouraged again, as the little witch was now able to keep her warbling ward up for a whole twenty seconds at a time.
“That may be true for her, but it's you who I have to beat, Trevor Belmont. It's not a team effort and that little baby witch pulling it off doesn't count.”
Yoko watched her grandfather give the Dhampyre the most withering look on the face of the planet. It caused a raucous chain reaction of laughter down the long tables, yet refocused and undeterred, Trevor turned back towards Oleana and asked her to show him one more time – slowly, please – how she'd managed to do it. Oleana was very serious as she agreed, insisting she was not a baby while she did so, and that mean man was going to have to say he was sorry. Grey-blue eyes scrutinized the novice witch's weave as Oleana performed her new trick... Slowly. Then Trevor sat quietly, which Yoko recognized and relayed to her new American friends as well as her surrounding cousins what was the famous Belmont Pause, explaining the nature of Grandpa's eponymous process. The gears were grinding.
Alucard had almost perfected it. He could get the ward's weaves gathered and formed near instantaneously, he only needed now to puzzle out how he'd change and maintain his Demonic touch into one of a Maiden, Mother or Crone's in order to bend the delicate energies to heel and complete his creation. It was only a matter of time now, as Yoko could tell he was getting a good handle on the soft-touch methods. Minutes. Maybe less than that, she'd give him.
The Dhampyre must have felt similarly as confident about his progress. “Child's play must be too much for you after all.” Alucard teased. “Don't feel bad, you put in a pretty good eff--”
There was a small ward sealing Alucard's lips. The weave and energy maintaining the seal was rudimentary at best and most likely to fail any second now, but Trevor Belmont had done it. In the nick of time, no less.
“Silence is golden.” The Hunter gloated over the muffled Dhampyre.
Once the ward grew too erratic to hold, it vanished and allowed Alucard to retort in a defeated dismissal, downplaying his loss. “It's still a baby spell.”
“A baby spell you can't pull off.” Trevor rebuffed, folding his arms. The ward muffled the Dhampyre again when he tried to argue back to humorous effect until it ultimately failed yet again. It had lasted a few seconds longer this time, however. Point to Trevor's minuscule improvement.
Yoko was perhaps starting to see what her mother did in her agitated grandfather. It was a beginner's spell suitable for a small child, yes. But he had pulled it off in record time, for someone with next to no experience.
I wonder if that's got something to do with the Vampyre babysitter? He was a pretty great teacher for that one cave adventure of ours and I do kind of want to shadow him again to pick up more tips...
“All right, fine. What else can you do then, if not the baby spell?”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“No. Do something impressive. Not one of your old tricks, but something I haven't seen you do before. Maybe it will help you save face if you manage to wow me, although we both know I am difficult to impress.” The corner of Trevor's lip quirked into a smirk. “Do you think you can manage that?”
“Challenge accepted, Trevor Belmont. Señorita Belnades please, would you be so kind as to assist me by placing an adult ward for grown-up non-babies around your garden area and my fellow guests?” Alucard requested in a haughty tone without breaking eye contact with the horribly smug Hunter at his side. His lips were also fighting to keep from curling as the pair failed to keep up the appearance that their argument was anything other than yet another excuse to play with one another. They were so cute that way, the sorceress mused.
When her Mama agreed, demonstrating her own untouchable skill at weaving wards, and Alucard had shifted into a bat form to take off into the middle of the training yard, Yoko hopped over the table to sit by Trevor so that she had a front row to seat to whatever machismo madness was about to go down. Trevor had demanded to be wowed, and Yoko knew he wasn't lying about being hard to impress. She hoped Alucard's response to that challenge was Hellfire related.
She was not disappointed.
As earlier claimed, at Alucard's Demonic command and unyielding will, the very bowels of the earth yawned open as torrents of fire gathered into vortexes and then cyclones. The intensity of the fire and infernal energies sucked all of the light out from the immediate area towards to raging vortex, leaving the red and orange carnage before them the only visible sight. The roar of the flames vanishing into the clouds above them was deafening. Yoko sat transfixed by the raw power on display as the flaming tornadoes aligned in a row behind the Dhampyre who'd called them forth before the ground slammed shut beneath him, molten rock solidifying and fusing back into the stone grounds of the Belnades training square. The flames that climbed skyward, now shut from their source, dissipated... But left in their place was a message scoured in the sky on dying embers.
Yoko, your next chapter is right behind you
Yoko stared at the embers until they vanished in a twinkle and dark clouds, realizing that Alucard was making his way back inside on black bat wings.
My next chapter? Behind me?
Beyond the bench she and Trevor had sat on to watch the firestorm show through the large glass windows was not the long table her family had been enjoying their meal upon just prior, but her gathered friends and loved ones all in a semicircle. Her fellow Sisters had conjured up beautiful magickal flowers that were dancing through the air, casting off warms hues of pink and purple. She jumped to her feet, curious to know what was happening and what other exciting event could take place this one crazy Yuletide celebration.
That was when she noticed Hammer was kneeling on the ground before her.
Hammer had a question for her.
And a ring.
After dinner and a show – her two favourite things – which had been attended by all her loved ones, old and newly discovered.
Yoko... Had never agreed to anything as quickly as she gave the hopeful man before her the answer he was looking for.
“Yes!”
Notes:
Another short one since it's a two-parter. It's also Spring and the world is kind of crazy right now... So I thought I would post the light-heartiest of chapters now to give us all a break.
Keep Safe!
Chapter 59: A Celebration in two parts Pt 2.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 2037 ~ Wallachia, Romania ~ Belnades Coven
While it was not precisely the most detailed and laid out plan Alucard had ever been a party to, the results at the very least could not be denied. Distract Yoko with some kind of fireworks show long enough for the crack team of her fellow Sister witches to prepare the stage after dinner. That was the request, but as for the how Alucard was expected to go about implementing his misdirection and distraction tactic had been entirely left up him to orchestrate. Improvise, Hammer had suggested only. Well, it was quite fortunate in the army vet's favour that Alucard had a lot of experience with improvisation, pulling things out of his arse on the fly, and the perfect unwitting pawn to make use of to accomplish this vague but urgent task.
Enter Trevor Belmont.
Riling up Trevor was as easy as taking his next breath, knowing full well how much the Hunter could paradoxically loath a braggart so intensely he'd want to put them in their place while also suffering from such a bad case of one-upmanship, that he'd no only want to shut the braggart down, but he'd strive to do so with impunity. Adorably, the little brunette had reacted exactly as Alucard imagined he would, even down to insisting Alucard perform an even fancier trick as penance for his boasting and teasing. The only deviance in Alucard's grand scheme had been that when he'd spied the minor ward in Sypha's grimoire and decided to use it as the excuse to push Trevor's buttons, he'd never imagined the Hunter would go right ahead and actually beat him to punch. The Dhampyre had thought for sure he was actually going to have to fake a loss to get the right reaction he was looking for.
My precious Prințesă continues to surprise me day after day... The Dhampyre mused contently to himself as he slipped back in through the open window and shut the wintry air out behind him.
Yellow eyes drifted away from the whirlwind of Yoko's congratulatory dogpile, all hugs, kisses, and joyful tears abound on every face of the newly joined families save Eliza Levin's – but even the Ice Queen wore a happy smile for the newly bethrothed – and found themselves settling on the three-quarter profile of one quiet Trevor Belmont, taking note of Trevor's smooth, unreadable features. His scent was that of a man elated and proud, but there was such a heavy dose of melancholia intermixed. Nothing bitter in the notes that Alucard could tell, only the aroma of wistful nostalgia and perhaps if he was correct in pin-pointing it... Loss.
It pulled on his own heartstrings, instilling a fervent desire to discover what was missing and return it back to the reserved man an arms-length away. Doing the next best thing, Alucard closed his arms around a familiarly tapered waist and pulled the smaller man in so tightly the back of a perfectly tailored suit was flush against the Dhampyre's torso. And then, because all eyes were still on the newly engaged couple before them, it was simple enough to lean over the other man's frame and place a soft kiss or three into the temple and crown of his hair like a little secret just between them. Trevor's hand fell over the one he had wrapped around the Hunter's waist and gave two squeezes in response.
“I love you too.” He whispered since he was still close by an ear to do so. “Yoko will make a beautiful bride, and Hammer will treat her right. That's a man who knows how lucky he is.”
“Of course; She is my granddaughter, after all.” Voice soft, as if his mind were mostly elsewhere in perhaps not as safe and secure a place as his body currently was, Trevor let out a sigh that Alucard only felt through his grip.
While the Dhampyre would have loved nothing more than to take the Hunter aside and dig as deeply as he needed to root out the cause of this sudden melancholia, it was neither the time nor the place now that Yoko's congratulations were thinning out and her focus was squarely placed upon the pair of them. Reluctantly he was forced to let Trevor go once the excitable sorceress launched herself into Trevor's arms, and then because she had done it once before and now knew it was possible, proceeded to lift and twirl him around in a celebratory cheer.
“Grandpa, you dirty little sneak!” Yoko squealed, having the wrong end of things. “That little tiff and your dick-measuring was so natural I thought for sure this was just another typical case of you taking the piss out of Al.”
“That is entirely because I am an innocent party in this subterfuge. I had no idea he was using me for his nefarious plans, I swear.” Trevor admitted, palms outward facing. “I promise, he'll hear about it later when we get home.” At the very least the Hunter's outward disposition was brightening. Now if only his scent could follow suit and shed the dour notes dampening the mood. “Circumstances aside, it is such a beautiful ring with such a thoughtful charm imbued within the band. I am so happy for you, Yoko.”
“No way. You're telling me you were actually Alucard's patsy for a change? He played you like a fiddle, Trevor!” Yoko squeezed the smaller man tighter, but did finally put him back down on his two feet after a few pleas were made. “My little cousins were telling the truth. He is a huge meanie-pants and a scoundrel.” Alucard was the next to have her full body be thrown at, the smaller sorceress all but climbing his frame to throw her arms around his neck. The height difference between them left her hanging, so he had no choice but to put his arms around her and support her weight in a hug lest she strangle him in her enthusiasm. “Al, how did you know I can't look away from a good lover's squabble with a side of explosions?”
“We've met.” He replied flatly, which gave the freshly engaged witch a good chuckle.
A moment later she had turned sweet and sappy. “I can't thank you enough for being here and bringing Trevor with you to be a part of this memory for me. It means so much, Alucard. You're my most favourite Step-Grandpa ever.”
Hammer closing his large hand around Alucard's shoulder gently let them know that the immediate family members, Julius and Eliza included, had all gathered around to compliment the light show and the smooth segue into the ploy that had kept Yoko unaware until the right moment of the proposal. Trevor refused any and all praise for his part, insisting that there had been no collusion, nor any scheming between them. In fact, he was rather dismayed that his reactions had grown so predictable that Alucard could have orchestrated such an elaborate ruse around them. With a huff and a fold of his arms, he promised in no uncertain terms that Alucard was going to be left guessing if he ever tried that stunt again.
“Who else is going to keep you on your toes? Certainly not the guy whose spoiled you rotten.” Trevor scoffed and dismissed the very notion Alucard's accommodating Vampyre Master would be up to such a task.
“Fancy that. I guess even you can have the wool pulled over your eyes from time to time, eh Napoleon? You can't win em all, buddy, so c'mere. You haven't met the crew properly yet.” Hammer's arm scooped up Trevor in the same momentum he'd used to gesture towards his parents and brothers and all but carried the smaller man to finally present him. “My father Gunner, Ma Maple, and brothers from eldest to youngest, Flint, Hunter, Archer, Mason, Magnum, Axel and the baby, Scout.” Hammer flashed a quick grin down at Trevor and answered before the question was even asked. “I am between Magnum and Axel. Good thing I wasn't last, or I'd have ended up with the dog's name like Scout.”
“C'mon, man!” Who must have been Scout decried.
Maple shushed them both, but her statement caused more raucous laughter then it did maintain the peace as she'd hoped for. “Scout was the best dog we ever had, and it's an honour to be named after him.”
It didn't get any better when Trevor reached up to the miniature but still stocky in comparison to the Hunter version of Hammer and ruffled his hair. In a tone oozing affection, Trevor gave the youngest, Scout, a wink and an assurance. “I like good dogs.”
Supposing it was probably for the best that the family was too busy doubling over themselves to realize, Alucard still took careful, borderline jealous note of the blush and confused, aroused scent the young Scout was now enrobed with. Just what I needed... He grumbled internally. Yet another infatuated by Trevor Belmont effortless charm, vying for his attention to add to the growing pile. There was a minor condolence sent Scout's way for the day in the future when the young man realized this had been the moment of his gay awakening.
“Shit...” Hammer could barely catch his breath, but he managed to complete the introductions in spite of that. “Family, this is Trevor Christopher Belmont, the man of the hour.”
Gunner, still a little shook up from the light show and probably the realization he was in a room full of people that could cease his existence with the snap of a finger did his Christian best to stay polite, and made an inquiry of Trevor quite innocently. “And are you a son or nephew of Julius, Trevor?”
To look at Trevor, such a question and assumption made the most logical sense. Truly. Which was probably why Hammer took so much pleasure in correcting the older man, enlightening his gathered relatives of the truth that was indeed stranger than fiction. “Nah, Pops. Trevor here is the great great great grandfather of pretty much everyone in this room save us, Madame Director, and the Ambassador.”
“That is true.” Trevor agreed thoughtfully, almost as if he was just realizing the reality he was currently living.
“I can vouch for the veracity of that statement.” Eliza chimed in to help quell the sputtered choking and incredulous looks being passed around the American guests. “Trevor Christopher Belmont has been confirmed by our top geneticists to be both Julius and Yoko's distant ancestor. Why, I believe he shall be celebrating his five-hundred and eighty-first birthday come January first, will you not, Mister Belmont?”
“That is also true.” Trevor replied, sounding like it was a surprise for him as well. “Just Trevor is fine. That is my name.” Now, sounding more confident and saccharine, he took hold of Maple's hands and gave her the exact same entreating look he'd given the proprietress of Stoker's Inn way back in the 15th century, when Trevor had ducked under the door frame nearly dead of a fever in a town that was no longer on the map, called Fetra. The ruddy-faced woman back them had all but thrown her brassier at the Hunter. Alucard remembered every single chamber maid and village girl that had swooned over his goddamn man, after all. “It will be such a pleasure to welcome the fine man you have raised your son into as yet another grandson of mine. I'm looking forward to it, truly.”
Hedylogos, come claim your avatar already. The Dhampyre cursed in futility, acknowledging that Trevor's honeyed words were about to have him stolen away by his ever growing entourage, leaving Alucard all alone to fend for himself yet again.
The smaller children were already sneaking away en masse from their parents who were trying to corral them for the imminent Yuletide ritual to pull on Trevor's pant-legs and clamour for his attention. It came as no surprise that his sweet Hunter actually seemed to enjoy the chaos of those tiny hands and little faces spewing ceaseless questions. The patience he held for their neediness and antics seemed absolutely endless, and then once Hammer's nephews were added to the the pile of little witches, that was it. There was no holding on to the Uncle and or Grandpa Trevor. They led him away leaving Alucard back exactly in the very position he'd feared most when coming here. Alone, and in a sea of smiling pre-teen girls, tittering and failing to whisper quietly enough amongst themselves that he could hear each time they called him 'cute' or 'pretty', or profess that he was just 'so good looking' they could just scream.
Kill me now. The gods and monsters of the world gave no answer, delivered no peace.
“Good evening, young ladies.” Even his politest, slightest nod caused a wave of squeals and face fanning. It wasn't right. The Dhampyre could not say exactly what or why, he just knew this whole situation wasn't right and he didn't want anything to do with it.
“Are you really and truly a Prince? Just like in a fairytale?”
“Do you live in a castle, Prince Alucard?”
Dignitaries I can suffer drawn out and bloated, empty conversations from. But this..? This inanity?
“Do you ride a white horse? Or a unicorn? Or a Pegasus? Or a unicorn-Pegasus? Well, do you?”
These days I am riding more of an armoured Klassan converted Rolls Royce, kids. Sorry to burst your bubbles.
“Can I take a selfie with you?”
You're already doing it without waiting for me to consent?
“Does being an Ambassador mean you get all kinds of free presents? My sister is a Brand Ambassador and she gets purses for free all the time!”
Does a free headache count?
“How come your hair is so pretty? Can I touch it? It looks soft!”
“My daddy said you were a queer. Are you really a weirdo, cause I think you look cool?”
Twenty Euros says your father would jump at the opportunity to sleep with me, kiddo. I know that overly opinionated type well.
“Do you drink blood even if you are only half a Vampyre, Mister Alucard?”
“Have you ever turned a human into a Vampyre? Can you, if you are only half? Oh, or do they only turn into halves? Quarters?”
Next they'll want to...
“Can we see your fangs!?”
Aaaaand there it is. Can I fault children for asking? Even the grown-ups end up asking that one. Every. Single. Time.
“Can you really change into a puppy? My mommy said you turned into a big black fluff sometimes! Can I see?”
“Mister Prince, Sir. Do you umm... Have a Princess already waiting for you back at your castle?”
Sorry, kid. I do have a princess already, it's just that my beautiful Prințesă ditched me to go get to know every single snot-nosed brat in the whole of the Coven. I blame all of you for the fact that I am currently standing here, alone, so inundated with asinine inquiries I wish for the sweet relief of the Grim Reaper's embrace!
Of course, Alucard said none of this. His small, graceful smile was bolted in place as he weathered questions after question, so rapid that there was hardly a chance to answer a single one even if he had the desire to oblige their inquisition.
“Black... And of course.” He managed to get in when simultaneously asked what his favourite colour was from a girl to his right just as an even smaller girl somewhere behind him was wanting to know if he liked candy. Where the hell were all these kids parents, is what Alucard wanted to know. There wasn't a single adult he could beg for help in any line of sight he had. Just a sea of kids and their wide-eyed fascination as they hung onto every word of his curt replies. “Green tea crullers.” Was the answer to what his favourite snack was.
“What shampoo do you use, Mister Dhampyre?”
“It is not polite to touch other people without their permission.” He quipped tightly, his polite mask slipping slightly as he shook his hair from a pair of grabby hands. Sure, he could remind himself all night that they were just curious children, and perhaps he was just being overly sensitive since he got a lot of presumptions and entitlement from grown men and women as the novelty Demon Ambassador. Still, there was a limit, he felt, and children this old should know better than they were acting. Wouldn't a child not corrected in this moment not grow up to believe they were entitled to touch another's body any time the fancy crossed them?
“You look like a man that could use some fresh air.” Julius announced as he slid an arm around Alucard's shoulders and started navigating them both out of the child trenches. “Don't worry, girls. I have his permission from earlier to touch him.”
“My hero.” Alucard proclaimed under his breath in earnest. “You saved me.” It didn't matter one whit that the cost of Julius coming to the rescue in his dire time of need meant having to keep Eliza company as well. Anything to be away from the starry eyed girls and their more or less innocent crushes, but relentless, uncomfortable questions and idolization.
“You were holding your own fairly well, all things considered.” Julius noted without a hint of mockery in his tone. The elder Vampyre Hunter was all too aware of the kind of attention that Alucard often attracted in a crowd. The low soothing voice of his only picked up again once the trio had made a decent way down one of the quieter paths of the Belnades indoor garden. “They're old enough to know better, but cut them some slack. They're all off-schedule and it's a party. Kids forget their manners at parties, and especially when they're out of their routines.”
“I am aware.” Alucard replied tersely, strolling alongside the other two just as they had years and years ago, recalling how Leila had misbehaved extraordinarily at Aiofe's frequent gatherings of sycophants.
Julius would not remember due to the Price Paid for fulfilling his duty, but there had been a time when Eliza Levin, a rookie AIA at the time, Julius Belmont, a fresh recruit just discharged honourably from the Romanian army, and Alucard had shared such meandering moonlit walks together regularly. They were two young idealist back then with a dream that was not unlike the one Alucard still held. Eliza claimed to still have that dream to this day, but the reality of how the world worked had dampened her expectations considerably. While Julius... Poor Julius. Well, he had had his dream stolen from him for the sake of fulfilling the duty demanded from his Belmont Legacy. It wasn't the first time an alliance Alucard had believed in had drifted apart. Alucard recalled grimly as the faces of Richter and Maria Renard came to mind briefly, before he put their memories both back to rest. It would probably happen to him again, too, with distant, future faces, different handshakes and variations of the promises that always came with them. In the end, the Dhampyre seemed to always be left holding an empty bag.
“They are harmless, overall.” Alucard sighed, letting go of his pointless agitation. “I suppose I have just grown weary of those who think they can amuse themselves or avail themselves of my person simply because I am an exotic novelty. Regardless of their age.”
“I wonder how much money you could amass if you had a dollar for every time someone asked to see your pointy chompers?”
“More than enough to pay off the lawsuit and retire comfortably from biting the next person who does, I assure you.”
“I am certain the next person who asks will be as equally harmless and beneath earning such a reaction. You used to have so much more patience than you have demonstrated today, Ambassador.” The Iron Maiden's statement was also made without any challenge or mockery. Simply an observation, shared.
“It comes and goes... Obviously it has currently gone.”
“You were confined and tortured nearly to death. That woman had her hands and her essence inside and outside every inch of you. Let's not pretend that wouldn't have an effect on you either.”
Steps faltering to a stop, the Dhampyre stared at the elder Vampyre Hunter until he too halted and made an about-face to meet yellow eyes with bloodshot grey-blues. “I am... Fine.” It wasn't a convincing denial in the slightest. “Why are you bringing this up now? It's a party and you are one of the guests of honour. Why are you even here with me when you should be the other man of the hour with Trevor, New Cousin Jules?”
“I cared enough to see how fine you are.” Julius' eyes narrowed, but not in anger. Alucard could feel the appraising gaze of a Hunter, likely sizing up his prey. It was an unwanted appraisal on a good day, let alone tonight which was taking a sudden turn towards being a bad one. “You are holding up remarkably well all things considered. As I have already said. I hope Grandpa is helping you when it's too much.”
“I gave your boss a full account of what transpired while at your headquarters. So whatever bizarre interrogation tactic this is, I will have no part of it. Not tonight.” Tossing his hair to the side he turned back. Better to face the sticky-fingered children than the vague and nebulous probing from the Left and Right arms of the Church.
Julius caught him about the wrist before he could get too far, soothing in that softer than usual voice he'd been adopting when speaking to Alucard of late. “Relax, I really meant it. I just want you to have someone in your corner when you need them. I am sorry it came out wrong.”
After a tense moment passed between the two men, Alucard let out yet another huff. “You kind of suck at this.”
“So I've been told.”
At least the elder Hunter was honest about his shortcomings. “Trevor used to really suck at this too, so I suppose it's just a common Belmont failing.”
“It's 2037. We're not allowed to just tell people to bottle it all up and put it in the dark corner of your mind until the pressure builds too much and we just snap one day. Like how real men handle their feelings.” Julius rolled his eyes as he spoke, not entirely in complete jest. “Some of us are still adjusting.”
“No, now I believe this is just a you hangup, Julius.”
“I'm still adjusting.” The elder Hunter reiterated. “But I am trying, so cut me some slack and keep us company while we take in these bizarre alien flowers they got here. The greenery will do your soul good.”
“It's just the three of us, so let's cut the formalities and division of duty and station. What do you two want to ask me in spite of the three of us all agreeing back there that tonight is not about business? I know you, Liza. I know you are dying inside fulfilling this social contract when there's work to be done, and that Julius is never far behind you.”
Cool and collected gaze aside, Eliza Levin pounced the moment she was let free of her polite reigns. “I am pleased there is no need for me to beat around the bush with you, Alucard. However, I do retain the right to refute your claim that I consider this gathering a waste of my time. Are we not doing the work for our families and loved one?”
“What do you want to ask me about, Liza?”
“Ioana.” The Iron Maiden let the common woman's name hang, gauging his reaction to it. “Did you overhear that name, perchance, while in captivity?”
“No, I can't say I recall.” The answer he gave apologetically, but confidently. There wasn't a quiet moment that had passed while he worked to make repairs in his city where his mind did not drift back down to the pit of that subterranean lake-bed, churning over all he could from memory and impressions, both clear and clouded. “That is such a common name around these parts, it is akin to asking if anyone knows a Maria in Spain. Where did it come up?”
“We have a little witch initiate of High Priestess Estefania's Coven in our care. She mentioned there is or was an Ioana who liaisons with Estefania, this Midge, and a battle-mage named Maja from a Romanian location while the Coven was operating in Japan. I was curious if you had any insight to add, as you are correct. Such a common name would be hard to track down with no physical or other descriptor to work off of.”
“You were quite brief when describing your relationship with Alpha Rhysand as well.”
Alucard matched the Church duo's pace and inhaled sharply, as it would have been hard to speak while biting his tongue. “That is entirely because there is no relationship between the Embassy and his tribe. They eschewed any and all concessions Man Beast's were being asked to make twenty years ago when talks about integration were had. The Church's advice and recommendations to Welsh authorities on how to proceed were fiercely detested and considered an insult. I believe the last I saw of the Werewolf Rhysand was the back of his head while he stormed out of our Neath branch calling me your best boot-licker.” The confession got a gruff laugh out of Julius so at least he was enjoying himself, Alucard thought. “As you can no doubt infer, I was equally unimpressed with Rhysand. Because you asked me about him I did ask my people to see if they could dredge anything up on a last known location. The beast was popular with like minded individuals, and so garnered a following wherever he popped up.”
“Hmm...”
“Am I to assume you asked the first time after him also on a tidbit from this captive of yours?” Of course Liza had, so he took her slight twitch of a lip as a confession. “Then the Shaman you asked me about is the same story? The little witch whispered his name.”
“I have been listening to that guy preach ad nauseam for weeks now.” Julius relayed, rubbing the back of his neck. His brow was furrowed as he turned over whatever he was about to share. “Yes, Elder Erwin. That one I am the most curious about. Sabrina, the initiate, told Yoko and I that Estefania was extremely concerned about keeping the knowledge of the stones resurgence from out of his purview. Now as far as anyone can claim with any authority, the man is just an impassioned semi-anonymous online preacher. Infamous visage but no one knows anything about him other than what he looks like. All his sermons and the sort seem innocent enough at face value, with no clear denomination of faith taking center stage. The man seems to be using the cast a wide net approach, but he's not doing anything with all his fish. He doesn't ask for money or favours. There's no where to donate to him. Honestly, it seems like he's preaching peace on earth for all men out of a good place... So then--”
“So then why would Estefania be afraid of him knowing the stones still exist in this realm.” The Dhampyre finished with a low growl. “Perhaps another Graham Jones or Cecilia Fortner. There's been quite a handful of them these past fifteen years especially, as if they were inspired. Or manufactured.”
“Elder Erwin's espousing predates both Jones and Fortner.” Julius pondered out loud, trying to fit pieces of a puzzle he knew should go together but could not figure out how.
“Let's be frank and admit that any two-bit charlatan or back-alley palm reader with even a shred of talent for magick can sense when an entity such as Chaos incarnate begins to manifest in our world. The whole danger of the Castle is that it's allure corrupts. Any splinter group or rogue agent, well meaning or not, is liable to be influenced into desperation and a drive for power when the shadows of the Castle stretch out from the pale lands. There are always going to be ready fools who desire Chaos, but most of them will never succeed even as far as catching a glimpse into the Void. Should we be wasting limited resources chasing down every bit player who'd ever uttered a desire to be the Master? None of them have ever had what Walter and my Father possessed; The Stones.”
“High Priestess Estefania now does, due entirely because of your error in judgment.”
There it was. That was really what Eliza had been dying to say days prior in their meeting, but it would not have been conducive to the conversation at the time, and the danger and urgency of their discussion then had no room for pride or spiteful 'I told you so's' no matter how deserved. Alucard had betrayed their trust by not trusting them in full to start with nearly forty years prior. If Julius had known Alucard was safekeeping the keys to the Castle, the man would have never taken his eyes off the Dhampyre while Alucard's grief and rage sent him into the spiral that could be blamed for this mess. And for what? Estefania had not been Trevor's captor and tormentor in the end, but his self-professed saviour. The very idea of that vile woman doing the Hunter such a kindness made his stomach turn over...
The pair of them must have been mind readers. Or their little canary had sung a great many tales, as Julius' expression was all Hunter and bereft of any concession, even towards an old friend and brother in arms.
“The Sacrifice. Trevor Belmont. Anecdotal accounts suggest that he was there willingly at least for a time. You're going to say that Gramps doesn't recall anything after waking up after we interrupted the ritual the first time?”
Perhaps it had been a pointless and even outright dangerous desire of his to shield Trevor from their further inquiry and investigation to begin with. The man was center stage to High Priestess Estefania's gambit. She'd marked him with a mysterious seal only she could say the true purpose was, and her familiar was none other than the very demon Sonia Belmont had taken to her bed one night six hundred years prior and who later tried to erase the Bestiary entry written about. Maybe he was a fool to even consider the possibility of cleaning this up without putting Trevor back into the fire, but when Alucard visualized the plaintive expression of the long-suffering beauty just begging to be set free from the bindings of Lineage and Duty that had bound him and weighed heavy his entire life... When Trevor's rare moments of vulnerability revealed the soft, gentle creature who was so weary of the Hunt, and even more so of the Kill... Alucard... Trevor's Adrian... He just wished he could spare his Prințesă all of it.
“Please leave him be. If anyone has earned their right to lay down arms, it is Trevor.”
“Will you protect him as you did the Stones?” Eliza's question was a brutal stab to the gut. “What makes you think Estefania is going to leave him be if she needs her Sacrifice? What makes you so sure he will not go back to her if she beckons?”
“I can answer that for you, Mme. Directress.”
Stepping out from between a collection of magically altered trees in the middle of a grandiose display with a purpose that commanded the attention of all three in his presence, Trevor Belmont materialized to take up the arms Alucard so wished the Hunter could abandon once and for all. When his dress shoes hit the cobblestone with a musical leather clack, Alucard realized that not only was Trevor once more taking up arms, but that he was doing so in defence of the Dhampyre. He stood between the last living blood relative of his eldest son Christopher's line and their spouse, a defiant sentinel. It amazed Alucard how he could still be amazed every time Trevor showed him that the Hunter thought he, Trevor's Adrian, was someone worth protecting.
“I will answer all of the questions you have about me that I consider fair of you to ask, in fact. You do not need to lead the Ambassador down a darkly lit pathway and gang up on him when you can just come to the source. Julius and I already exchanged contacts this eve.” Flashing his shiny new cellphone briefly, Trevor pocketed the device and placed both hands on his hips, doing that nigh imperceptible sway that had never failed before to mesmerize his audience in the past. Eliza and Julius were certainly captivated by him to say the least. “All of the random details that have been coming back to me I have been sure to write down in my journal, and I do plan to transcribe it all into something with a little more chronological cohesion. I intended from the start to share this with Julius and Yoko once I was more certain of what is concrete fact, but since you are asking right now... For brevity's sake since this is Yoko's party and we should be making our way to take part in their Yuletide rights at current, let me just say this.” With half a glance back at Alucard and bright smile, the Hunter finished his piece sounding like the Trevor that had first walked into his mother's abandoned laboratory centuries ago. No, he sounded even more certain than that starved injured boy that had no choice but to succeed. “I only have one Dhampyre. In all my travels, I have never come across another like him, and so I decided to keep him, since I am admittedly weak for a pretty face. He is mine, and I am his, and nothing will keep us apart now that we are joined. Estefania may have saved my life in the past for some purpose from a butcher. Perhaps simply because she needed me for the blood in my veins more than my previous captor. But Adrian is my life, so no matter what she tells me, what reasons she has, or the purported noble or sinister causes of anyone else who wants these rocks and the Castle... None of that matters to me anymore. I'm going to live in the mountains and bake bread, and I don't intend to let anyone get in the way of my retirement plans. I thought I was clear about that, Julius. I have done my share in the name of House Belmont already.”
“You certainly cut a more believable figure as a warrior than a baker, Trevor Belmont.” Eliza mused openly in a rare display.
“I'm still adjusting.” Trevor was quick to fire back, pilfering Julius' earlier phrase and cementing to all that he'd shadowed them from nearly the start of their so-believed private conversation.
“You're a real piece of work, Gramps.” Julius chuckled while not surrendering. It was more of a ceasefire for now. “Valid point about Yuletide rites though. We're all guests here and we shouldn't keep our hosts waiting on this very important date for their Coven. Especially not when the new couple are dying to share their special day with us.”
Accepting the temporary stay, Trevor eased off, surprising his audience with just how prepared he'd been to actually use violence if the situation had warranted it once his posture relaxed. Eliza catalogued his every move for a rainy day no doubt, but Alucard was too high on cloud nine to care about that at the moment. Not when that gallant welcoming body was slipping under his arm and sliding into place against his side. The arm curled around his waist while they made their way back to the party was just a warm fuzzy bonus. It was impossible not to be smitten when someone swooped in to your rescue like that before you'd even realized you needed saving.
Because he did not want to spoil the gushing gooey feeling in his core, Alucard did his part to maintain the ceasefire, instead asking innocuously. “What happened to your tie?” It was nowhere to be seen on the brunette's person, after all.
“Wearing that thing is like being strangled slowly all night. Good riddance, is all I say.”
The Dhampyre should have guessed, as the man had hardly managed to lace his shirt up passed half way back in the day, complaining about being constricted while hunting and fighting whenever the subject was broached. Still, it was an expensive tie. “I hope you know where you were when you happened to be rid of it.”
“It's cute that you wear a leash I can drag you around by, but much less so when I have a leash of my own.” The Hunter deflected easily.
It was time to get dirty then.
“Marcella picked that out for you. If you don't come back with it, she's going to think you hate her gift. She'll feel bad, you know. She likes you a lot and wanted to do a nice thing for you and here you are... Losing her present. Disregarding her feelings and good intentions.”
“I...” The Hunter spared a moment to grumble. “I may remember where it was waylaid...”
They ended up having to let Julius and Eliza go on ahead, doubling back to pick up a golden tie that was draped haphazardly around a tree branch with purple bark. Then, because they were alone in a secluded secret space in the indoor garden, Alucard let his appreciation show, which Trevor was only too happy to accept with affection.
So they were the last to sneak into the inner sanctum for the Rites. And they spent more time picking stray bits of foliage out of one another's hair and clothing than paying attention to the religious ceremony before them. But the Dhampyre had never felt more love from the man at his side than he did right in that moment.
“Hey...” The Hunter whispered for his ears only, knowing how sensitive Alucard's hearing was. “Let's stop talking about it and just do it too.”
“Do what?” Alucard whispered back discretely, cognizant of the women chanting softly all around of them and not wanting to distract them from following along with Giustina's lead.
“You can show me how to make the rings like we talked about later, they're not the important part. This is.” Trevor squeezed his hand to emphasize. “Would you marry me, Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș?”
Would I..? Is he serious? He... he looks dead serious.
Alucard's heart may have stopped working for a minute, but his voice didn't fail. There was only one answer he could give. The one he'd been hoping to hear pass through the Hunter's lips in the variety of scenarios Alucard had imagined he'd have asked with his own deathly seriousness over the years, if only Trevor had not vanished that Autumn day in 1479. Trevor had beat him in this battle as well. Then again, Trevor always did when it came time to throw down.
Alucard was not a graceful loser this time, however, but a blushing potential bridegroom. Better to make it official then, no?
“Yes I will, Trevor Christopher Belmont.”
Notes:
This is a bit of a cheat, as I split this chapter just for better impact. But I hope it satisfies how it hit.
I also hope our broken (he says he's retired but I dunno) Hunter regaining his mojo and the Yassification is also as cathartic for anyone reading as it was for me writing it.
I felt I gave enough hints it was coming but still, reader GoWombat actually nailed the prediction in the comments so hard last chapter, I almost died playing coy responding to them.
Good job, Detective Wombat. You join the ranks of several people now that I check under my desk for before posting.
Chapter 60: Happy New Year
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
December 31st 2037 ~ Baljhet Mountains ~ Lost Commune
“Well... After Giustina gifted me the grimoire and shared with me how the children our daughters bore yet not their mother's contributions to our fight was swept so conveniently wayside, I just couldn't stop thinking about it all night. Or wondering if I had just married Sypha, legitimizing our children for the Church back when I learned she was pregnant, maybe her life would have been easier... That she wouldn't have had to go into hiding how you revealed she had.” Trevor answered his question in such a soft voice as they waited for the car to be turned around and collect them. “It's true, you said Sypha lived a good life and that she was happy, and I believe you. I am grateful you were there when I could not be, and that you were a father for who I am told was my more challenging child... Yet, I should have done right by her, and whether she agreed or not should have been her decision. Today, seeing how happy Yoko was to be asked for her hand... Back then, I should have at least offered. Sypha deserved that bare minimum from me.”
“I see.” The Dhampyre's gaze was apparently heavy that evening, as he could not keep his eyes off the shovelled cobblestone still crunchy with wind-strewn snow beneath the soles of their polished shoes. “...Does that mean you believe my life will be made easier if we get married? That's why you proposed?”
Such a brilliant smile, his beautiful, precious little Prințesă possessed. “Adrian. Be honest. I have been nothing but a complication and burden on your existence since I showed up again.”
“That's not true.” He insisted fiercely, his tone and heat behind the fiery rebuttal causing Trevor to take a half-step back. “Have you any idea of the amount of people that have told me how different I am of late? How much friendlier, more approachable I am. How I smile again? Of course my existence on this planet is more complicated right now. It's easy to remove yourself from challenges while you're sleep-walking through them. When you gasped back into life down in that damp cave, you breathed new life into me too, Trevor. I remembered why I was doing all of this to begin with.”
“That's... I...” The Hunter fumbled slightly, a mix of surprise and embarrassment in his scent as plainly as it was on his expression until a wave of affection drowned both out. “Well... I believe my answer to your question would be the same as the one I would receive if I were to ask you right now why you said 'yes'.” The honest confession began. “I've agreed twice before, sure, and I do like to believe I am a man of my word. The simple answer is I asked you because I wanted to. For better or worse, I am alive, and I want to keep living... It would be even better if I could live indulging in only the things I choose from now on, rather than what's expected of me.”
Sweet revelations brought the smile back to the Dhampyre's lips. “This proposal was an indulgence then. So you really do want to be my perfect, precious Prințesă.”
“Marrying up like a good Parisian noble, yes. I want a diadéme, as well.”
Turned out it was obtaining a royal tiara his Hunter had been jokingly insisting was the real reason for his proposal, according to a subtle search of the word on his translator app. Alucard felt a little silly needing the confirmation when the word was so similar in sound to diadem, but hey, better to be certain than sorry for a misunderstanding later, right? Alucard's mind did have a way of running away with wishful thinking when it came to Trevor Christopher Belmont. Truth be told, Trevor pretty much was halfway to building his own fancy headwear given the extravagant hair comb Eliza Levin had gifted him before she and Julius departed for the night. The Iron Maiden had inquired which shimmering ornament Trevor found the most lovely and pulled his choice straight out of her perfectly coiffed hair to press into his Prințesă's palm. Based on the jewellers stamp and quick reverse image search of the gift, the smug little brunette at his side was more than happy with his surprise gift of a forty-five hundred Euro hair comb. An early birthday gift, the Ice Queen warmed up enough to say with a slight smile.
It more than confirmed Alucard's suspicions that outside of her commitments, responsibility and duty, Eliza was kind of sweet on Trevor. It had to be his baby-Julius face at work, no doubt. Which was a clear and present threat in Alucard's eyes, as Trevor both believed she was beautiful – somehow – and he was clearly showing numerous signs to date of being attracted to shiny things like some man-shaped magpie. With a pretty and functional choker gifted to him by Joachim and Leila, eye-catching lapel pin Erinys had fixed in place before they'd left for the party, and now Eliza Levin's opulent hair comb, and the promise of a wedding ring in the wings, Trevor Belmont was quickly amassing a curated collection of jewellery. Kind of funny to note, the Dhampyre decided, considering the Hunter had worn no such ornamentation when they'd first met. Clad from head to toe in functionality and practicality in the end. Even the cross emblazoned coat had served a specific purpose.
Evidently not anymore.
Would this new trend mean that Trevor just follow any random rich person with ulterior motives so long as they waved a sparkly bit of ribbon or jewel-encrusted velvet scrunchy under the Hunter's nose? Distracting the Hunter with their nefarious wares? If he is lead astray by such criminals, then what am I to do about my ulterior motives? How dare the Iron Maiden, or anyone else tempt his Prințesă with their deceitful and conniving baubles!
That was about as far as Alucard could recall from an evening that seemed a lifetime ago that was not an extended blur of wine and passionate lovemaking. The bed at the Embassy had never seen such action before, but it sure did hold up for the repeated enthusiastic encore performances. The later crawl through the sewers again so soon was a fair price to pay for the bedroom acoustics alone, let alone his new reality... After all, Alucard was now engaged. To Trevor Belmont. He was Trevor Belmont's fiancé. Trevor had been commenting on the fact that Alucard was 'leaking air' quite a bit since the Belnades Yuletide party until the Dhampyre reminded him once more how that specific noise leaking out of him was just the sound of pure joy escaping through his lips. Trevor had rolled his eyes but didn't argue.
Exactly.
The Sex Olympics sadly were forced to take a minor break in order for Commercial Christmas in the village to be celebrated. Trevor, Alucard was delighted to discover, was extremely skeptical of the Jolly Fat Man giving out gifts to the children in the main hall of town and determined to figure out how powerful this sinister warlock named Santa truly was. This malicious seer who saw all and judged children's actions as naughty or nice before rewarding or punishing them accordingly. Someone had told Trevor about the Krampus side-kick to Santa, evidently. Joachim had to hold the Dhampyre up on his feet while he watched Trevor creep in and out around the crowded hall all evening, studying this vile, vicious Santa from all angles, caused by all the laughter Alucard could not contain. Thank goodness all the years playing nice on the World stage had given the Moroi one hell of a poker face for when the Hunter returned, suspicions still high.
No one, repeat, no one, was allowed to tell Trevor Santa was make-believe. Alucard was enjoying this far too much for it to be over in just a single holiday season. Hell, the Dhampyre was already dreaming up ways to broach the subject of the Easter Bunny now and wondering if it would be possible to convince Trevor it was a vital task of utmost importance to locate chocolate eggs in four months. Valentine's Day, on the other hand, Alucard decided he was going to keep as a secret until it came time to spring the deluge of red and pink everything.
After all the terror and suspense caused by sinister Santa was over a done with, life was another comfy and happy blur of flesh on flesh, punctuated with family dinners, sprawling layabouts watching movies alongside or as was in often Trevor's case, directly on top of Joachim – Alucard could vividly recall the exact sing-song pitch his pretty Prințesă called out 'Hello, Pillow' before pouncing on the elder demon – with even the occasional appearance of Leila added to the mix.
When Alucard ducked out and then returned from putting out small fires in the village or city, he often found Trevor curled up with his Church report and several borrowed textbooks, going over his assessment with the aid of the collection of reference materials. Whenever Trevor worked on that important self-discovery project, Alucard merely busied himself on whatever needed fixing or tweaking nearby, always available to quietly clarify a term or explain a biological function. It felt nice to be of assistance, and even nicer when Trevor felt he needed enough help digesting a form he'd climb into the Dhampyre's lap and request they go over it together.
Not to forget the relaxing quiet moments in the wooden sauna Joachim had him build years ago in their backyard. He was still apologizing for not showing Trevor that 'amazing' construction on day one, even if the Hunter wasn't a fan of the middle part of the badstu process. Alucard most certainly was. It was terribly fun to hear the Hunter squeal once the cold water hit after roasting in the dry sauna. Every time.
The fact that their frequent and playful use of the facility was clearly throwing a wrench into Joachim's pre-dawn ritual was sort of a perverse little bonus on Alucard's part. The poor demon just wanted to lay out in a fluffy terry robe under the starlight until the dawn broke on the horizon in the all glass sunroom attached to their little sauna – another of the Vampyre's requests – and read his books fireside. Not have Trevor's cold interrupting toes slip between his feet or even colder fingers find an opening in the robe, all while the Hunter pestered him, asking a thousand and one questions in French when he was not asking Joachim to share a synopsis of what he was reading or otherwise straight up asking to be read to. Imagine that. A grown man asking to be read bedtime stories.
There were precisely three wide rattan lounge chairs in the moon and campfire-lit glass room precisely because their home had had only three residents until just recently, but somehow all three of them always ended up piled onto the same piece of furniture. Joachim was reading them – by request – a book called Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell out-loud, his liquid silver timbre changing pitch subtly for each different character so that it was easier for Trevor to follow along who sat rapt, of course, enjoying the bedtime story. Alucard, on the other end of the spectrum and once he started to suspect this ornery old Gilbert and dashing younger Johnathan were not going to end up in a hate-fuck, drifted in and out of the plot, content as he was to curl up in Trevor's lap and have his hair and arms stroked by absent-minded fingers while his Vampyre Master's voice lulled him towards a dreamy state. When Trevor wasn't making him play muted guitar melodies of his own composition to compliment the Hunter's bedtime story, that was.
Remnants of eucalyptus from the sauna clinging to cooling skin, burning cedar crackling in the fire-pit, soft terry robes wrapped up alongside a few hand-woven throw blankets, and the combined mingling scents of wild rivers and sweetened earth and sky all enveloped Alucard each early morn he lay semi-conscious like that. Home. That was what he always thought wrapped up in those moments, labelling these blissful, serene states of existence with a smile both Trevor and Joachim were too occupied to make note of. Such perfect, quiet and intimate moments. After only a few days indulgence – as Trevor might say – Alucard too started slipping his cold toes up against Joachim's warmer feet. It was kind of a shame their friends and neighbours all believed him a crazed animal with a hair-trigger when the elder demon truthfully had more patience than anyone outside their home would ever believe or give Joachim credit for.
What was turning into a quaint little ritual of their own was not on the agenda for tonight, however. In spite of his day one promise, Alucard had yet to take Trevor down to the city below the Commune until this very night. For obvious reasons, real fireworks that went higher than the tree canopy were not exactly a good celebratory idea for a hidden series of villages to partake in, hence why the vast majority of residents headed down below on New Years Eve and gathered around the boardwalk or in the park to enjoy the display set to go off over the subterranean lake. With most of the shops closed down for the celebration, it was not exactly going to be a proper tour of the secret refuge he'd built for the more easily shunned members of his demonkind, but at the very least Trevor would learn how to get down here on his own and where the majority of the Desire demons tended to gather. Alucard liked to believe there was no such thing as segregation down below, and while there were a fair few demons of other denominations that frequented the bar, in the end it still seemed that like always attracted like.
With still a few hours to kill before he'd take Trevor on the street car and then a meandering stroll down the city center towards the boardwalk for the show, the Dhampyre held open the large over-sized door to the very first structure he'd ever erected down below, back when the city-to-be was nothing more than a crude crypt he'd dug out for his own self-imposed penance. The affectionately referred to building these days people were calling Al's. The interior was as he'd recalled, intimately lit with the posh bar table and curated spirits along the right wall while the rest of the space sprawled out to a stage lined with a piano – a violin case resting on top – and other instruments, gathered tables and cushy booths, chaise-lounges or upscale little loveseats, and even large collections of floor pillows in a recessed cut-out in the middle, all available for whatever your preference or number of company for the evening entailed. Desire demons did have a tendency to dogpile when in groups, and the open, adjustable seating arrangements ensured there was always space to be made for however large the communal cuddling grew.
Based on the Dhampyre's first glance inside after nearly a decade away, it was clear to see that things had not changed much since his last appearance. Claudia, Misha and the rest of the 'girls' were strewn about a few booths in smaller breakout sections, as opposed to the large clump of the 'boys' in the sunken central area. Elsewhere were a scattered gathering of intermixed couples, some talking at tables, or leaning against the bar. There were faces Alucard had never seen before amongst all parties, but he'd been gone nearly ten years, so that was to be expected. The important observation was that everyone, for the most part, looked comfortable and at ease.
For the most part.
Trevor stopped dead short as Alucard ushered him inside, and it was clear as to why when he noticed the much taller Vrykolakas he did not recognize looming over an overtly amused Joachim's face. Which... did not bode well. For the Greek Gluttony demon most of all, but mostly because it was Trevor's first foray into the city Alucard took so much pride in creating. It simply would not stand if some of Joachim's collateral damage from the harsh – perhaps fatal even – corrective actions to reestablish the pecking order soured Alucard's life's work for his pretty Prințesă. With looks ranging from flat disinterest up to some hesitant furtive glances from every other demon around, clearly no one else was going to be quick to step in-between the foolish little insect trying to pick a fight with the eldest, most-feared and powerful demon in their community.
“You think I am some joke, Pretty-boy vamp? You bloodsuckers always have such a haughty attitude, it just makes me want to wipe the smirks off your faces at the same time I knock those fangs out of your mouth.”
Fully intending to break the stupidity on display up verbally – as a good Ambassador and role model should approach conflict – even when that conflict appeared to be nothing more than a youthful demon swinging their dick around, that all changed the moment the Vrykolakas' posture coiled aggressively, openly telegraphing the fool decision his young mind landed upon as he made to lay his hands on the Dhampyre's Vampyre Master. Attempted to, anyway. Alucard's temper over-writ his initial intended calm approach to the situation at hand simply because just who the hell did this hapless little stripling think he was, daring to try and touch what was obviously his? Vrykolakas had decent olfactory senses, so there was no excuse.
“Ack! Wh-what the fuck? Are they making you albino bitches in a factory down here?” The Gluttony demon spewed as his feet dangled in the air. He had been tall enough loom over Joachim, but Alucard was another story.
“This is no way for a guest to behave.” Alucard scolded dismissively, masking his true fury, continuing to hold the young demon up by his scruff while he caught the leg that tried to kick him. With a threatening squeeze, the Dhampyre gave a single warning. “You kick me and this leg is coming right off at the hip and I am only going to find you a prosthetic after a sincere apology given publicly at the City Hall.”
“Guest? What the hell, man?”
“Whose joint do you think you're inside of right now?” The Dhampyre waved towards the small neon sign behind the bar that simply spelled 'Al's' before he drew the demon's attention back towards himself. “Alucard Fahrenheit Țepeș. I can't say it's a pleasure to meet you quite yet. You are causing quite a ruckus in my establishment which is one thing, but it is entirely another for you to be disrespecting my Master, especially while in my presence. Clearly you're young and inexperienced since you can't recognize when you're out of your league by several hundred fathoms. Picking your battles and sizing up your prey goes a long way into staying alive for our kind, Vrykolakas, and as a aged demon trust me on this one. The two-thousand year old Vampyric former Knight-Commander of Walter Berhard's army will never be the prey animal a creature such as yourself could ever dream of catching. Look how easily I am able to handle you and I wouldn't fight that Vampyre by choice either. However, if you're so eager to end you life that you'll continue to make a scene, then take it outside so I will not have to clean up your corpse.”
“Ambassador Țepeș, welcome back after so long.” Misha, a Succubi resident who settled in roughly twenty years prior greeted as her slender fingers slid along his arm until they reached his wrist. There was a gentle but firm pressure from her touch, urging him to lower the Gluttony demon back to the ground. Perhaps she was feeling responsibility for the young and dumb demon he was throat-crushing. “Forgive Dion his outburst, Alucard, and please I would hope you could also convince Joachim to let it slide this once as well. The whelp is newly turned and as all recent converts were once upon a time, scared, confused and a touch angry about the changes his new state of being have brought about. The hunger is especially difficult for him to come to terms with.”
So not just young, but also a fresh recruit. Perhaps an unwilling one as well. Alucard had come across his fair share of men and women in this Dion's position before. There was often a lot of anger and lashing out involved when it came time to try accepting how different life was to be going forward. There was a phenomena with humans aptly named 'suicide by cop' that demons on the edge of despair also partook in, albeit usually in exactly the manner Dion was displaying. Suicide by Demon Hierarchy. Okay... Calm down. It's just a scared, lost kid acting out, nothing more. No need to get mad about him touching your things.
Touching his things?
Wait a minute.
What?
Pushing aside the moment of confusion on his own part and obfuscating it with a benevolent mask, Alucard not only put Dion the Vrykolakas down, but he let him go as well, instead reaching for his wallet to pull out a business card for the resident Demon Psychologist that practised in the village above. He handed the card over to the Gluttony demon and spoke in a much calmer and respectful tone. “Her specialty is integration and acceptance for the newly turned or those who have just learned of their demon lineage. Even if you think it's pointless, make the appointment to help yourself. Until then, you're welcome here so long as you keep your hands off my Master, my colleague,” Gesturing over towards Trevor who had fallen in line to Joachim's side, Alucard hesitated just a moment before he also made a small hand movement towards Leila who sat at the bar nursing a bright blue drink and completely ignoring the scuffle by the entrance. “as well as my daughter. Understood?”
Of course it was absolutely foolish of the Dhampyre to expect only one challenge for the evening after so long of a departure. People needed a constant reminder of where they stood in the Hierarchy and putting the Vrykolakas in his place was not going to cut it with the current New World demon breathing down his neck. For the mighty Wrath demon now snarling in the Gluttony demon's place, putting a whelp in their place proved nothing.
It was exactly this type of behaviour that made the humans nervous about accepting demons into their midst. The constant fighting for one's place on the totem pole was disruptive to every day life. You would think after all these years we could move past some basic barbarism and tribalism like this...
“I don't understand why you thought it was such a good idea to bring this tiny morsel of meat along. Smells sweet and looks soft. Unless this is your idea of bringing us an offering, Half-breed?”
“Okay...” Alucard closed his eyes against the hot wet snort coming from the large muzzle breathing down on him. The Átahsaia, a hulking Wrath demon that brought to mind a Minotaur if only based off a buffalo more than a bull, used the large bony protrusions on his shoulders to muscle the Gluttony demon aside and clamped one of his clawed prehensile paws down on Trevor's shoulder. Both as an intimidation towards the Hunter, and a direct defiance of Alucard's authority. Relax. This is to be expected with new blood or fresh meat, as Leila would say. Some demons just had to know where the lines were drawn and on which side of the etching in the ash and scorched earth they stood. Now, do I break his thumbs right out of the gate or do I even bother trying to talk a demon like him down like a good Ambassador of Change? If I put him in his place beneath me, would that spare Trevor a fight he likely wants no part in, or would it just delay the inevitable?
It turned out Alucard's agonized weighing of options was for naught.
“I see you must be why the front door is so huge.” Trevor noted, shrugging off the massive mitt that had been crushing his shoulder without so much as a wince in spite of Alucard knowing it must have hurt. “If I am to hazard a guess, are you perhaps this Jeremiah I've heard about?”
The Átahsaia's lips peeled back in a sneer that was all pointed teeth and even pointier canines. “My food can speak. Good. I like it rare and bloody, and preferably while I can still hear it bleating as it slides down my throat, and you do look tender. You taste as sweetly as you smell, meatbag?”
“I do.” Trevor smiled easily, saccharine and docile as he willingly closed the distance between the brutish ogre, hands raised and open as if he were welcoming Jeremiah to place his oversized snout within them. The fool demon actually did take the bait but Alucard could hardly blame the Átahsaia for his actions when with one look into those entreating grey-blue eyes, Alucard would have stupidly done the same. Trevor's charm was on full blast as the Incubus cast his spell over the normally resistant Wrath demon.
No, not an Incubus. Alucard corrected himself. Lilin. That is what his file says he is. Admittedly, it was still hard to think of Trevor as anything other than human most of the time, but that only made the Dhampyre even more enamoured whenever he was reminded that they were made for one another. The same hybrid of a Desire class demon and a human. There couldn't be a more perfect match for Alucard.
“Jeremiah... Jerry, can I call you?” Trevor all but purred, trailing his fingers along Jeremiah's left shoulder bone with his right hand. “Do these grow back if they break?”
“Of course. My kind are not soft and disposable like you, food.”
“Good, Jerry. Then let's get this over with so that I can continue to have a pleasant evening.”
The first crack was Trevor snapping off the Átahsaia's left shoulder bone. The first guttural cry was Jeremiah's when that same bone was plunged into his meaty thigh. The gathered demons just trying to enjoy their night scattered to the far corners of the room in puffs of smoke or on bat wings or their own wings in the succubi's case while the second round establishing the pecking order came to it's swift and brutal conclusion. Alucard must have been mistaken, but it even seemed like the whip he'd crafted for Trevor had given off the same hallowed glow the Belmont holy weapon did when Trevor busted it out to finish restraining the Wrath demon. Which was silly. The Vampyre Killer, or Morningstar the whip was sometimes referred to as, was a sacred item. Alucard could not craft divinity. With Jeremiah now flat on his back, bloody and bound, Trevor wiped his own blood from the blow to his cheek the other demon had landed with the back of a hand and sat down on Jeremiah's collarbones so that he could stare his prey down eye to eye. Boots to either side of the Wrath demon's head and leaning over by bracing himself against Jeremiah's horns, the sultry little hellion smirked so infuriatingly smug at his victory even Alucard felt an urge to punch Trevor in that haughty pout. Anything to take that attitude down a notch. That was all before he realized it now looked like Trevor was trying to seduce the Wrath demon which just made him want to hit the Hunter all over again for entirely different reasons.
“That was a decent punch, Jerry.” Trevor complimented with another small feel at his quickly darkening bloody bruise. “You're decently tough too, Jerry. That was fun. How about we just have fun from now on? Wouldn't you rather be my friend? Hmm, Jerry?” When the Átahsaia merely growled. Trevor sighed and snapped off his left horn to complete the lopsided look. The great, awful, splintering sound set Alucard and the rest of the audiences teeth on edge. Disgustingly ear-piercing, that business was. “Jerry, let me be nice to you instead. I could be very sweet when I'm given a reason to be. I only wanted one of these horns as a trophy, but if I have to take them all, so be it. Will your teeth also grow back if I remove them? I am now thinking about making a necklace with them.”
“All right. Friends.” The Wrath demon surrendered with a long drawn out and defeated groan. “I was warned about you ahead of time and I just wanted to see if you were worth all the hype. What are you called, meatbag?”
“Trevor Christopher Belmont. The original one. I'm told there are some books written about me but I have not read them yet, so I endorse nothing. I prefer simply Trevor, but in your case, Jerry... I think you can call me Princess.” Chuckling at the mere notion of such a large and vicious looking demon following him around and calling him such a title, Trevor leaned back over Jeremiah and encouraged him to try. “Go on, Jerry. Say you're pleased to meet me.”
“I am... Pleased to meet you... Princess.” The massive Átahsaia grit out. “This rope of yours kind of burns, you know?”
“Oh, that sounds even funnier than I thought it would. But what kind of a friend would I be if I left you all tied up here and bloody on the ground? Come on, Jerry; Let's see if there is something around here to clean you up with. We've made a hell of a mess on the floor, but since you started it, it's only fair you clean it up. I might be persuaded to help you if you ask me nicely.”
“Who the hell decided it was a good idea to let a gods be damned Belmont Vampyre hunter into our demon haven of a city?”
“Talk to management.” The Hunter joked with a halfhearted wave towards where Alucard and Joachim were standing, before untangling Jeremiah from the whip and pulling him along to root around for anything that would work to clean up blood and the splintered wood from a stool. A rather disturbing collection of women who had spectated the whole exchange were only too happy to introduce themselves and help out.
Which was fine. Alucard told himself so several times in a row. There were no rules against Trevor being allowed to make new friends, even if one was a cannibalistic Átahsaia that would eat it's own, and the others were a bunch of sultry attractive Desire demons of the curvy gender Trevor had previously more than alluded to possessed his preferred downstairs plumbing and features. Trevor had always been aggressively charming when he wanted or needed something. A DNA test said he was a Lilin. Before they went extinct, Lilin's were like that, allegedly. So it was fine.
Totally fine.
...Alucard was not in any way, shape or form glowering or feeling jealous. Jeremiah just may have well become an underling more than a friend, after all. And even if Alucard were, to entertain the far-fetched idea, be feeling even a teensy bit jealous, it was not a big deal. It's not like that effortlessly charming man being lured away by some babes was Alucard's betrothed or anything, suddenly smelling so pleased just as a harem was forming around him. It's not at all like Alucard was considering diving into the pile of beefcake that had returned to their spread out in the recessed floor lounging area just to get even and make himself feel a little better. This was, after all, the new and improved Alucard. The foundation and glue and warming fire and all that stuff. This Alucard didn't get petty or jealous.
I am better than that now.
“Hmm... I swear gave it my best to keep this from happening, but it seems some demons need to be taught the hard way rather than take another's word for it. Even my word. Well, I assured Bunny he could take Jeremiah in a fight. All is well that ends well, wouldn't you say, Kitten?”
Oh thank goodness Joachim is here to distract me. I don't think I am better than that after all.
“For a second there, it looked like he was going to fuck Jeremiah, not curb-stomp him. You saw it too, right?” Alucard grumbled jealously even knowing there was no legitimate reason for feeling so and Joachim, in kind, rightfully ignored the question. To be fair, Trevor was his pretty and perfect little Prințesă. Not Jeremiah's. Fuck, now I wish I had gone and picked the white lace gown over the blue cornflower one all those years ago in Lupu. Then I would have known what he looked like in a bridal-esque gown. I need a serious distraction... The obvious choice was right beside him. Alucard's most frequently selected victim-err-friend. “Forgetting that, what were you doing Joachim? Why were you even entertaining that Gluttony demon to such a degree? You were going to let him put his hands on you which is both out of character and an inexcusable upset of the food pyramid we have going on here. Forgive me for stating the obvious or stepping out of line, but that it seems suspiciously like you were looking for an excuse to make a demon-sized blood smear on the ground.”
As always, in a world full of duplicitous Vampyres of various degrees, it was the only honest one who did not deny the plain and simple truth. For a Desire demon, Joachim was quite odd like that. “Perhaps... It's been a while since I was able to blow off some steam. A little challenger to quash may have taken the edge off.”
“Why would you have steam to begin with? I thought life was going swimmingly for you these days.” Arm sliding comfortably around the smaller demon's shoulders and blatantly ignoring how they slightly tensed at his touch, Alucard pulled Joachim along with him to make the rounds, greeting old faces and introducing himself to new alike. Between brief and casual exchanges, Joachim playing straight man with the passive disinterested ease of a man used to to his part, the Dhampyre did find himself wondering just how long the Vampyre was going to be tensing up every time he clapped a shoulder. How long was it going to take for his oldest companion to stop expecting his every initiated touch merely a precursor to conflict?
Misha was more or less chaperoning a collection of new residents made up of the Vrykolokas from early, Dion, a Nymph who had brought Dion with her to the Commune, three Buso sisters each of whose giant yellow eye set deeply in the center of their faces widened alongside a powerful scent of fear when they stole glances at Joachim, a similarly one-eyed Torto who was less terrified of the Vampyre but not much so, both a JüštƏ MužƏ and his female companion a JüštƏ MužƏ ÜdƏr, and finally another Shade named Felecia – Anastasia would be pleased about that. It must have been lonely being the only ice elemental spirit about town.
Claudia on the other hand seemed to be more or less vetting attractive demoness' for entrance into Trevor's sizable harem. With the Vampyress in tow, it was now looking like Alucard's pretty little Prințesă had two underlings already. Maybe Trevor should have asked 'Jerry' to call him Hoss instead of Princess. It did make the Dhampyre feel a little better about the eager and curious crowd once he observed how the Hunter was still quite reserved about his personal space, politely ducking, turning or leaning away from unsolicited touching by overly handsy Desire demons, often times without even drawing attention to the fact that he was indeed purposely staying out of range. When he finally made his way to that circle the girls were flirty and playful in their greeting and exchanges towards him, and even more so towards his Vampyre Master. There was no serious intent behind their actions. As they were old hands around Al's, they knew Alucard would have to be in real dire straights to be interested in what they had to offer and that Joachim had a demoness in every other town across the European Union because he didn't believe in creating additional complicating matters. Nothing like a bad break-up between neighbors to sour one's home life and divide associates as they picked sides. The Vampyre only slept with one female demon in the Lost Commune, and that was out of pure necessity alone. It's how the hybrid spiders in the forest that protected them all had gotten so deadly.
In the end Alucard ended up settling down into the crowd of men in the middle of the room for several reasons anyway. One, because Leila was at the bar and he did not want to invade her space or be perceived as bothering her, two, the exceedingly handsome Penates demon brothers were both eager to reconnect after so long and who was Alucard to deny them? Three was because he could see Trevor easily from this corner and keep an eye on the Hunter without making it obvious he was keeping an eye on the man. Finally four, the most pressing and urgent reason, was because the sprawl of chiselled dudes down here had also managed to stockpile most of the wine. The good wine. It was New Years Eve, so Alucard did not even bother with the pretense of getting a glass. With Joachim lighting up beside him, it only took a few trades of bottle for blunt and back again between them for the teetotaller Vampyre to get absolutely drunk, and the lightweight Dhampyre to get stupidly high.
“We really should just stick to our own vices, Joachim. I think I'm about as high as we flew that night in Autumn. I'm about to touch the moon again.”
“We say that every time and yet here I am, heavily inebriated again with all spaced-out five of you kitty-cats for company.”
“Be real. Out of the five of me, I'm the best looking one, right?”
“Depends.” The Vampyre replied thoughtfully, struggling to focus on him.
“Depends on what?”
“Depends on which one of you five Adrians asked me.”
He was pretty sure he shoved the bratty elder demon but could not care to verify if the swat connected, instead sinking deeper into a hazy state as surely as he was sinking deeper into the collection of pillows he was nestled in. The din of the bar and lounge was familiar and comforting, living up to the reputation it had always carried as a place of safety, in Alucard's eyes and more. When few witches and manbeasts gathered on the stage to trade overhead speakers for live music, the Dhampyre traded his wine for another hit off the Vampyre's joint. Not even bothering to actually pass the items, he simply tipped the bottle to the other demons lips and leaned over to suck in the acrid smoke held between two delicate fingers.
I never realized he had such girly hands before. No, that's not fair. I know some women with fantastic mitts. Real mean right hooks that go along with them, too.
It was impossible to resist catching one of the elegant wrists anchoring those delicate digits once he became aware of them with his own hands, if only so that he could study the smooth swatch of ivory flesh perhaps for the first real time. Trevor's hands, wrists and his forearms, even when he'd been starved, had visible tendons and veins roping through amongst the muscle in such inviting and endlessly traceable patterns. That damnable, enviable and impossible strength the Hunter was capable of was actually plain to see if one just took a passing moment to study his arms. Alucard's own large hands and long piano fingers were similarly marked by prominent signs of vascularity, as were his arms and other more risqué parts of his body. He would even go so far as to say that most people, men in particular, did possess these features to a degree... But not Joachim. There was nothing but smooth unmarred skin across the tops of his hands, attached to a slender wrist and toned but not overly developed forearm. From what he could feel that wasn't covered by a dark blue leather jacket, which was mostly all he had for reference given how much they did not leer at one another in public showers combined with the Vampyre's tendency to just unzip what he needed to do the deed.
Fingers slipping under the cuff of a coat on an exploratory mission, Alucard huffed at how soft the flesh hidden away felt. What an enigma you are, buddy.
“You are staying for a while I heard, Alucard?” Antonio, the eldest Penates crawled over to ask him so that he need not strain his voice to be heard over the band.
The question and Alucard's subsequent confirmation piqued the interests of his fellow floor pillow fellowship. “That's correct. I have no plans to take up residence anywhere else, nor do I have any work that requires me to go undercover.”
“You've been missed.” Another demon across from him piped up. “Everything tends to slowly fall apart when you're not around. My shower is a trickle these days.”
Whoa, I am too high for this, but okay. The Dhampyre sat up and put on his best placating expression. “I apologize. We've done some repairs this week and the work will continue throughout the next. If you don't see improvements already, you should shortly. Same with the air filtration system. That's next, but I did start flushing the ducts and replacing filters already.”
“Cut him some slack. It's New Years Eve and we're here to drink and be merry.” Maurius, the other Penates shut the uppity demon down. “Complain about your water pressure tomorrow.”
There were a few murmurs of apologies as the handful of demons about to plunk down a list of their demands instead swallowed them out of respect of the ongoing celebration. Alucard was grateful the Penates were always so understanding and influential, but it seemed that even their Hierarchy flex and guilt tripping could not entirely dissuade the unhappy campers in their midst.
“We deserve an explanation about the elephant in the room at least, don't you think?”
“What elephant?” Antonio groaned, growing annoyed.
“Who do you think? I'm talking about the fact that we didn't just let a demon hunter stroll on up into our bar, but we rolled out a red carpet for a fucking Belmont. That elephant! Why is there a Belmont in the Lost Commune?”
Not wanting to entertain or argue, Alucard replied simply. “Trevor Belmont lives here now, that's why.”
Of course it was neither satisfactory or the end of the discussion. All at once the floodgates were open and Alucard was forced to withstand the deluge of poorly contained worries and veiled threats of how they'd react when the Hunter in their midst finally chose to live up to his profession. There was nothing to be done but address them directly, just as his Prințesă had had no choice but to bust Jeremiah's chops earlier. Some demons just needed assertiveness.
“I've heard your concerns, so allow me to assuage them. Yes, that is the Trevor Christopher Belmont--”
“He's a human!”
“I am half-human.” The Dhampyre snapped back.
“Yeah, but you're different. You're the Scion of Lord Dracula.”
Oh boy, I am losing my happy high... “Some of our brethren and sisters have human mates. Most of the witches in this village are human. My daughter is a quarter human.” His voice was level, as it would do no good to lose his cool when his fellow demons were merely acting out upon their fears and anxieties. “Trevor Belmont, also, is half-human. At midnight tonight he will be a five hundred and eighty-one year old demi-demon. I may be the Scion of Dracula, but I am too the proud son of Lisa Fahrenheit. A Dhampyre. A demi-demon.”
“Alucard, what are you not getting about the big deal this is? Even if he's got demon blood, he's a demon slayer. Specifically, a specialized your kind killer. He killed Lord Dracula the first time.”
“Leviathan give me strength...” The Dhampyre, gritting his teeth now, took several calming measured breaths. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility that this would have come to a head once Trevor's identity spread around, but he'd not been quite expecting it quite so soon and while he was unprepared to handle the outcry. “I kill demons who deserve it in scores. I aided and abetted slaying my father more times than your kid's had birthdays. By your own reasoning, I too do not have a place to belong here.”
“That's not—”
“But it is what you're saying, so perhaps think before you open your mouth. I take full responsibility for that man and anything he does here, as I am the one who invited him. If you want to press the matter, then we can have a town hall debate in an open forum as is the custom, but there will be no lynch-mob mentality on my watch fuelled only by baseless fear. We're better than that here.”
For a party, the air sure was tense and uncomfortable. Not even the live band music's mirth could warm the chill settling over the floor pillow fellowship.
Then Joachim, who had sneakily used his unsupervised time as Alucard defended his lover to dive headfirst into way more wine than the ancient demon could handle, pulled him back into the cushions with a drunken titter that even put Trevor's musical noise to shame and used his Vampyric Force of Will to make everyone else lay back in their original sprawl as well. Once they were all back in their seats whether desired or not, the Force relented, but the phantom impression that Joachim had told everyone in no uncertain terms to sit the fuck down kept the crowd in line. Even a glance at Trevor's harem and around them confirmed the message had been heard by all patrons loud and clear.
“While I am fond of a good show, this one is sadly lacking.” The Vampyre proclaimed, sounding downright bored. “By all means, quiver and whimper at the thought of a mere midget amongst your ranks, but you're not going to convince Kitten the Belmont doll is a threat. That's his Carissime. His Dulcissime. His... Future wifey.”
“You cannot say midget.” Alucard hissed under his breath just as the Penates brothers were laughing in unison.
“Everyone has always thought Joachim was your wife!”
“Waifu.” Another Vampyre chimed in. “You know Joachim likes all that Asian stuff.”
At least the tension was gone. Still, this would not stand. “He's clearly my butler.” Alucard insisted before adding with a thought. “And accountant.”
While their audience may have found that a humorous reply, Joachim looked a little put-out by the comment. “Your slave more like it, and that's on a good day.”
“Oh come on. I am beholden to you, Joachim. You know I can't do anything without you keeping me on task or supporting me from behind the scenes. You're the man behind the green curtain, so tell me which one of us is actually the puppet?”
“Are you complimenting me, or propositioning me? I might be too drunk to tell.”
“Complimenting. Complimenting! Most days I feel like I have your fist up my ass regardless, so I don't believe I actually need you to try it.”
“Hmm, I don't think it would be a very convincing puppet theatre even if we tried. Might qualify for one of those Guinness world records, however. Most obscene puppet show, or fastest cancelled street act, maybe? I've always wanted to try breaking one, actually.”
“I'm not sure they accept entries for your kind of challenges. Most decapitations in ten minutes?”
“Four thousand.”
“Most bones broken in sixty seconds.”
“Oddly enough, also four thousand.”
“I rest my case.” Alucard shrugged, retaking the Vampyre's hand and newly discovered delicate wrist in his own to study with a renewed fascination. On stage the gathered group of friends who made up the band for the eve lightened the mood significantly by playing a selection from the Beatles and the Stones. As if there had never been a heated exchange, show of Force, or perhaps some hurt feelings over being called a butler, the gathered drunken dog-pile around the Vampyre and he began to take turns singing along, until they more or less were all belting out tunes karaoke style. “Hey, you like this song.” Alucard elbowed the Vampyre at his side when Ruby Tuesday started.
If anyone asked later if he'd taken part in singing Ruby Tuesday, failing to harmonize with the heavenly voice coming out of his Vampyre Master, Alucard would die denying it.
The sing-a-long continued well into the night, but the two Moroi nestled further into the pillows in comfortable silence, taking in and absorbing the merriment all around. Wine, weed, and wistful sighs.
“What are you doing?” The Vampyre asked lowly, not yet pulling his captured appendage free, but clearly either confused or unsettled by how long they'd been hand-in-hand. His question was only for Alucard's ears, as his soft voice was otherwise lost in the loud music.
People were getting up to dance with one another now that the alcohol stores were being freely offered. Claudia looked like she was trying to teach Trevor how to bop about in a mosh pit, and maybe Alucard should have been concerned about that, but the hand he was holding ultimately proved more interesting. A more sober and less high demon may have been able to find the reason why.
“Oh...” Alucard stalled as he tried to form an acceptable reply that wouldn't sound too strange or out of character. He'd been doing that a lot of late and the Vampyre really was going to drag him to the demon doctor if he kept it up. Thinking fast, he laced their fingers and let their clasped hands fall naturally between them “I thought you enjoyed holding my hand. You seem to take every opportunity you get to do so. Am I wrong?”
Judging by the look he was getting even from a Vampyre three sheets to the wind, he probably should look at clearing his schedule to make time for that impending doctor's visit.
Maybe Joachim was too drunk to analyze that comment as deeply as he otherwise would have, as after a moment he simply turned his head away, sighed, and left the relaxed hold Alucard had on him as it were. “That statement is not... An untruth.” Came the even softer reply what was probably ten or even twenty minutes later. Time was hard to tell in the comfy haze of what felt and smelled like home so close by.
Wild rivers and sweet earth and sky. The Dhampyre's precious Prințesă and steadfast Master's scents were practically one for all the time they commingled. Hints of spice from Leila now also clung to the two men in his life. Their aroma... Was home.
As it grew harder to keep his eyes open, Alucard appreciated how pretty convenient it could be to have a shoulder nearby with which he could lean his head upon and doze. Live music and a miasma of scents drifted by as the mosh pit and more intimate dances worked up sweat and saliva, but Alucard could neither name one tune nor one aroma once caught in the blissful fog. There was no need in this one space to play the role of Ambassador Țepeș. No need to behave, or watch what he say or how he act. No need to posture outside of the occasional need to reaffirm the Hierarchy. No need to downplay his orientation, vices, or shortcomings. Alucard was just a regular old man right now. One amongst a pile of them lounging around and imbibing. Just a dude cuddling up to another dude who had stood by his side though thick and thin, hell or high water, that other dude even surmounting his deathly phobia of water sometimes to come in clutch. True friendship like that you'd be lucky to come across even once in a lifetime. The Dhampyre was honest to goodness, truly lucky.
For some reason he kept thinking about that Autumn night flight, where he'd nearly reached the stars. The dizzying fall, knowing there would be a Vampyre to catch him so there had been no fear, only awe at the twinkling city below. Spooking the schoolgirls in the park trying to summon a demon with some Llewellyn publisher's house book on witchcraft, only to laugh themselves silly over their squeals and high-pitched reactions when the ritual 'worked'. Perhaps he kept going back to that night simply because it was the first time in decades he'd pulled the stick out of his own ass and let loose. Trevor had been so annoyed by their antics when they returned. The poor thing had just wanted to finish reading his novel and was instead saddled with two lecherous Moroi. Maybe that was why the Hunter was so keen to pester Joachim during his reading hours after all. Petty revenge.
Oh, that reminds me.
“Hey, 'Chim.”
“You only call me that when you are beyond wasted, Kitten. Or really annoyed.”
“I do not.” Why was he arguing, and so petulantly too? “You have a great sounding name so I prefer to use it in full. I'm respecting you.”
“You are slurring your words a bit as well. You're cut off.”
“Bah.” Wriggling to sit up, he narrowed his eyes at the unamused but clearly plastered Vampyre, and decided that was enough wine for the Țepeș household's resident teetotaller. His Master was so wasted he couldn't even keep the bottle away from Alucard's sneaky little hands. “You're the one whose cut off, buddy. Now remember that night we touch the stars?”
“Hey, this isn't you winning against me, okay? I just have to let you think a victory is within the realm of possibility sometimes so you don't get discouraged. Or lazy. You already forget three quarters of what I teach you out of sheer complacency.” The Vampyre excused himself as he failed to snatch the wine back. They must have looked quite a sight half-wrestling over the dregs of a mostly emptied bottle, as it was fairly comical just from Alucard's narrow perspective. “Why are you still on about a little bat race? If you so terribly want to soar the skies again just come out and ask me to go with you. When have I ever denied you? Of course I'll say yes.”
“That actually would be really nice, thanks for offering.” He mused, enjoying the slight embarrassment or shyness of the demon before him. Now that he knew to check for the red tips of Joachim's tiny pointed ears, that is. Best Joachim hack he'd learned to date and he still couldn't believe it had taken nearly six centuries to realize all this time Alucard could have seen right through those stony expressions if only he'd known what to look for. “But actually, I keep bringing it up because you said you had something to tell me that, and you never did. You made Trevor play the violin all night instead.”
“Good times. Bunny's got latent talent just begging to be tapped.” Snickering at the memory of poor maligned and suffering Trevor, forced to fight with a strange instrument all eve at the whims of an ancient Vampyre, Joachim forgot all about reaching for the wine and sat back on his haunches.
“What did you want to tell me?”
“Nothing.” Joachim replied with a pout. “I said I had something to show you, not tell you. I tell you everything already, you know. You just don't listen... Because I'm the help. A Butler.”
It took everything in his power not to roll his eyes, but the Dhampyre persevered. “What did you want to show me, then? Can you do it now, or is it like an object? It's not a weird totem you picked up, is it? I think I've seen enough of those to last my eternal lifetime. I still have full body chills about the severed Yr hen Wratch toe.”
“Wratch toes are obscenely rare and prized alchemical ingredients. You'd be lucky to come across even one, you ingrate... I only wanted to share the experience with you.”
“Obscene was the word I was looking for all right. If it's not a gross totem, is it Necromancy related? Is there another gateway to an endless sea of reanimated dead on my second floor, Joachim?”
“I only did that one time!”
“Once was enough! It took two years to seal that portal completely.” Firing back immediately, he dug deeper. “Is there a summoned Prince of Hell in my attic or something that you can't get rid of? Is that big dick Spirit back? If he is, are you going to give him my number like I asked or what?”
“Foras is the thirty-first spirit of Goetia, and his specialty is an in-depth knowledge of herbs and stones, on top of his ability to assist discovering treasures lost, which he did. How do you think I found the last handful of nearly extinct lyricroot for you to cultivate and use in your little experiments? Foras is not just a largely endowed demon I summoned for you to giggle immaturely at. The Goetia deserve your respect, Princeling.”
“Oh, you did swoop in to save me with that root I needed, now that you mention it.”
“It took me months of preparation to pull off that ritual...” Well now the Vampyre was outright sulking. The demon who hated it when others sulked was now mopier than that purple floppy donkey Eeyore. “You didn't even say thank you... I suppose I only did what was expected of me like a... Manservant. Unworthy of note, and easily dismissed after rendering my services.”
“I am positive I did at least that much. I'm not a complete ass.”
“You were... far too busy. The medicine needed a practically non-existent plant, so I found it for you, and then you did whatever it was you needed with it. You were too engrossed with the results of the tincture that you never bothered to even ask where I got it, or how.”
Wait... What? There's no way I did not at least throw a single word of thanks..? An entire rural village had been brought back from certain death with the medicine made from that mythical and elusive root. I had to have at least gave him an appreciative nod if I didn't utter the one syllable word thanks? But then would he be able to look that hurt about it if I wasn't really that much of an ass? It's not like he's ever given me a reason to doubt his word either, and he is certainly not the type to fish for sympathy.
“Joachim, how many times have I done something like that to you?”
The elder demon was actually startled by Alucard's question, pursing his double-lobed pout and forcing a slight smirk in place over the previously down-turned lips. “Why would I keep track of such things? What's passed is in the past, Alucard.”
Alucard, now. You only call me that when you want to call me Adrian in public. You only call me Adrian when you're desperate for me to slow down and actually listen to you...Acknowledge your presence or contribution... Or be nice to to you.
That was why Joachim still flinched at his every self-initiated touch. Alucard had not been treating him kindly for a long time, so why would the Vampyre expect gentleness from him?
All right, so I am a complete ass. I'll just... Do better.
“I apologize then. For all the times I have been that ungrateful towards you. I truly mean it.” A pathetic concession made far too little and too late, but one he had to make anyway to reset the stage.
“Well, I appreciate it, but it's not necessary. Who can remember centuries upon centuries of thankless busywork on your behalf? Certainly not your butler.”
You are an emotional and brutally honest drunk, buddy.
“Do you want to hug it out again? It worked wonders last time.” When the offer he made was met with only a frustrated flash of teeth, the stupidly high Dhampyre thought it was a perfectly fine idea to just reach out and pull his ever increasingly irate Vampyre Master in to do just what was on the table. Cuddle the conflict away. It was probably the wine he had to thank for still having non-broken arms, and the sobriety of tomorrow would have him retroactively counting his lucky stars. “All right, buddy. My friend. My brother. My steadfast partner. The reason I got out of my coffin for centuries. You are so much more than my tax man or man slave. You're my lodestone. So could you please tell me what is it you wanted to show me back then, if it's not a ritual gone wrong or a rotten appendage?”
“It's of little import. I only wanted to show you in that moment since you were in such a foul mood. I thought it would be a suitable and well deserved distraction for you. You seem in fairly good spirits right now, so there's no point.”
“Of course there's a point. I could always stand to be in an even better mood?” Well, there was one Dhampyre Alucard knew who was going to ignore the flattest look one demon had ever given another demon. “I am very curious now, so please show me? I can't even fathom what it is.”
“...Fine.” The Vampyre actually caved, pushing against his chest so that they could look one another face to face. Truly a testament to the power of vintage booze. “You're so high you won't even remember tomorrow, so what do I have to lose?” It was as good an excuse as any as far as Joachim was concerned. “Do you recall since shape-shifting is not a talent of mine that I asked you to show me how you turn into a wolf a little while ago?” Continuing after the Dhampyre nodded in the affirmative, the Vampyre pushed away from him a little further and started to chuckle here and there as he tried to explain what he wanted to demonstrate. “Every now and then since that time I have given it a shot for fun. And I can't get it. It never turns out properly... It turns out hilariously disproportionate.”
“I... Think I need to see this, Joachim.”
“All right. I'm telling you, it's all wrong... But I thought you would get a kick out of it regardless.”
“I am quivering with anticipation, man. Morph already.” Morph was exactly what Joachim started to do, but true to his word, it was all wrong. Just... every part of it was not right. “Oh no...” Alucard clamped his hands over his mouth as he watched an enigmatic ancient fountain of experience and raw power contort and shift awkwardly into a white, overly fluffy stubby-legged canid. “Oh no, Joachim. No... You're like... If a corgi fucked a wolf and had a baby. You have no neck, Joachim. Where is your neck?”
In response, a pink tongue poked out of the corgwolf... Wolfgi..? Whatever adorable abomination he now was.
It was too much. It was... Too stupid. Hilariously so, yes. The tongue was what did him in. He was flat on his back laughing about how bad a wolf form his best friend's attempt was, unable to breath because that stupid squat animal with an indistinguishable neck was sitting on his chest wagging it's too puffy tail. Then the tongue poked out again and the derpy ensemble sent his spirit towards the bright white light at the end.
When the tears finally cleared enough to see his surroundings a little, he found the Vampyre back in a respectable demon form and perched exactly where the abomination had sat on his chest, knees to either side of his ribcage. Alucard managed to wiggle up a little against the pillows behind him which caused Joachim to slide down more in his lap. In that position they just stared with wide dumb grins at one another for probably far too long a moment.
“I told you, I can't get it right. But it was funny, right?”
“What are you talking about?” He insisted. “It's perfect. Don't change a thing.”
“I'm not sure I could change it for the better if I tried. It's harder than you made it look.”
“Nah, I mean it. You're just perfect the way you are, man.”
All of a sudden the din of white noise chatter from a dozen different intimate conversations, juxtaposed by energetic shouts and cheers and combining with what was now edgy instrumental club music in the low-lit surrounding, converged into the perfect lullaby. Encouraged by the wine and narcotics still buzzing in his system, the earlier drowsiness returned in full force. Eventually the lull was no longer only affecting him, as it did seem like everyone in the bar and lounge area were beginning to move a little slower, speaking a little softer. Wrapped in his own comfy haze, Joachim leaned over him and Alucard didn't hesitate to turn his head upwards to meet the Demon Kiss. Simple connection and matching breaths. Music and voices. Safety. Slipping into a meditative state was effortless.
Home.
Music and voices, dreamlike and distant.
Then closer.
A hand on his shoulder shook him gently out of the restorative state. Strong enough to reach him, yet soft enough to prevent the trauma of being pulled out of the meditation before he was prepared. Joachim was also blinking away fatigue, fighting the pull to return to their rest. The hand on each of their shoulders belonged to sweet smelling Trevor Belmont. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow, and a single drop was trailing down the long line of his neck, begging to be lapped up before it vanished behind his gifted choker. So Alucard did, and Trevor gasped, eyes darting around to check if anyone had caught the Dhampyre's impulsive action. So silly. No one would care here. It was the safest place for a demon to be true to their self.
Besides, Trevor's sweat always tasted like sugar to Alucard. Who could resist?
“Are you going to be all right to watch the fireworks? You two look a little out of it.” Trevor studied them apiece, brow furrowing with mild concern. “You were like statues for the longest time.”
“Do not fret, Little One. This is merely the result of over consumption. The holidays tend to make us forget how to pace ourselves.”
“We're getting old.” Alucard agreed.
“This is why I said no when you wanted that gliding rocking chair for the balcony. We're not just old men, Kitten, we're ancient. If either one of us sit in a rocking chair there's a high risk we'll never escape.”
“This is a risk I am still willing to take. I'm buying one.”
“And that's the last time we saw him, Officer.” Joachim shook his head sadly and shrugged before he walked off to collect an equally drunken Leila who definitely took after Alucard when it came to booze and had certainly put in the work that night to be so tipsy. Liquid silver voice trailing off as he muttered under his breath. “I warned him not to fall for that smooth gliding siren song, but he never listens to me...”
“You'll come to the rescue and pull me out of a rocking chair if I get stuck in one, won't you Trevor?”
The Hunter's offered hand was pulling him to his feet and then guiding him to place an arm around the shorter man's shoulder to keep his unsteady balance in check. “I would like to believe so, but I can't promise that. It turns out I am also a very old man. What if I succumb to the urges as well?”
“Oh yeah...” They were heading out the door, Trevor pulling him along as if he knew where they were supposed to go when it was Alucard who was supposed to be playing tour guide. Maybe he truly did, since the Dhampyre was being pushed onto a street car and guided to the top floor seating so Trevor could get a better view of the demon city passing by the large windows. “I guess we would just have to live in the rocking chair if that happened. Joachim would probably throw food at you and water us once a week.”
“This street is packed.” The Hunter noted, linking his two arms around Alucard's closest one as he peered out at the scenery. Such a lovely little thing, his pretty Prințesă was, just begging to be kissed if only she'd turn his wishful way. “What is with those sort of flared tops to the buildings down here? I've never seen architecture like that.”
“They're access points and residential dwellings for winged demons. A little more permanent than having to make a roost every breeding season. The Harpies mostly nest above ground but the Nyx, Sirens and Ala like the vibe down here better. They just wished they could sleep high up since it's what they do naturally. Was a pretty easy accommodation to make.”
“You're very thoughtful, Adrian...” Trevor smiled warmly, grey-blue jewels still fixed on the organized chaos breezing beyond the glass. “This is the main umm... 'drag' I believe is the term?”
“Yeah. Most of the commercial and social establishments are either situated on or near Main street. Some shoot down the other major roads, and a collection of the little shadier or more catered experiences are off smaller side streets. Residential pockets are blocked together around smaller green areas and everyday needs like laundromats and the like. I learned a lot about urban engineering while working on this project. You can't just build a road and expect everything to fall into to place, although we did make that mistake quite a bit at the start. Keeping a city alive and functional is constant upkeep... Somehow it's working. Surprises me every single time I come down here.”
“What's your biggest takeaway from the experience, I just have to ask.”
“Easy. People need reliable access to hot water, flushing toilets, and garbage disposal or they riot.” It was a completely honest answer too. Residents weathered extended periods of rationing better than they did one single day with an unflushable toilet. “Well, I suppose these days I can also add a dodgy WiFi to that list as well. Losing the internet for a few hours has Leila flipping tables.”
“I like your daughter.” Trevor stated firmly. “Even if I am not allowed to call her that. She's a lot like you. I am aware I am not allowed to say that either. I liked all the demoness' I met today as well. I'm curious why Leila isn't friends with them? They were nice to her, but it seemed they were acting out of politeness and nothing more.”
The odd turn the conversation was taking was definitely robbing Alucard of his warm happy buzz. “She's just shy.” Alucard dismissed. “So are you by your own admission. It didn't seem like you had any trouble at all charming the room even after telling me before that you had no desire to make any friends.”
Quick to correct, Trevor's signature coquettish smile returned at full wattage. “Our Vampyre Master just may be right about your selective hearing, Adrian. I believe I told you that I would just make friends with your friends. Were all those people in your bar not friends?”
“What do you mean by our Vampyre Master?”
“Am I not under his tutelage? If the same man is instructing me about modern affairs, modern devices, modern culture, catching me up on past and current history, current fashions and media, of auras, magick, demon customs, Desire demon Hierarchy, creative Demon Arrangements, and has promised to teach me how to drive... What would you call that man if you were in my shoes?” Another play from the Belmont Book of Agitating Habits. Asking a question instead in response to having a question posed.
“A busybody.” Alucard snapped back, which Trevor found very amusing much to the Dhampyre's chagrin.
“Why do you need him to teach you how to drive when I can do that?”
“I've been advised you flout the rules of the road a lot and that you are not a good example of responsible driving.”
“Trial by reputation, I see. The assassination of my character aside, I guess we'll just have to settle for two old lady drivers in the Țepeș household. You make a great pair following the leader around. Did Yoko by any chance explain to you what a Teacher's Pet was? Because that's a hundred percent you in regards to your Joachim worship, and frankly, I am shocked to discover that aspect about you.”
“Are you so sure you're not also drunk? You've got the situation of who was following who around back there a little backwards, in my opinion.” The Hunter refuted, finally turning on the bus seat to face him. “There is a term I just learned tonight to describe my circumstances. I apparently 'struck out'. The only people I had any intention of charming back in that bar, back in our home, or anywhere at all in the wide world right now were instead wholly besotted with one another all night.”
“What are you insinuating, Sir?”
“It's not an insinuation when I have photographic evidence to back it up.” Alucard could see it in the Hunter's eyes before he was even flashed a few extremely compromising pictures captured on a rose-gold phone. The look of an arrogant victor. “This one is my favourite. You're just staring into one another's eyes.”
“You can delete those now.”
“I don't believe I shall. I like what I see.”
“Just what are you insinuating, Trevor Belmont?”
“Am I not speaking plainly? I was fairly certain I was not speaking in riddles, but you look like I've told you one you can't puzzle out.” Trevor's infuriating gloating impossibly intensified. “Please do not misinterpret my words, Adrian, and you can relax as well. I am not upset about how you couldn't tear yourself away from another man, but just so we're clear, only if it is this particular man.”
“That's quite rich coming from the guy who can't spend five minutes without his aura stuffed inside you. You're over-analyzing basic Desire demon social behaviours. Everybody cuddles down here.”
“Perhaps you should take a closer look at this picture; It's certainly more than mere cuddling, wouldn't you agree? Are you sure you weren't fancying more than his aura stuffed inside you, because your friends are so convinced you're after him they're making bets on who really is in control.”
“Are you drunk, Trevor Belmont? You know you sound like you're fantasizing about me and... Well. You better not be telling me next that you have one of those schoolboy crushes on Joachim, Trevor.”
To this, the Hunter burst out laughing. It was harmonious and enticing, and Alucard probably should have stayed annoyed and suspicions, but he was too high and Trevor felt too good pressing into his side so lovingly. “I am very drunk, yes.” The brunette admitted freely. “I'm also giving too much of the game away, but that can't be helped. You're too pretty Adrian, and so terribly smart that I fear it may have caused you to hyper-focus on complexities that you can't see what's simply in front of your face. I want equal parts to tease and encourage you... Pretty pretty Adrian.”
“Yeah, you're drunk.” The Dhampyre concluded.
Together within a crowd of strangers that moved like a single cell organism, they shuffled off the street car and hoofed it the remainder of the way towards the boardwalk far north of the city. It was easy to find Joachim and Leila in the packed gathering, both for Trevor who was coiled up and connected with the Vampyre, and for Alucard who after so long at the demon's side could point to a map and accurately estimate his cardinal direction and distance. The subterranean lake that made all of this underground civilization possible was murky and dark, and still. Until the the light show began and Trevor finally got to see his first real fireworks, participate in a New Years countdown, and share a kiss out in public as one half of a pair of male demi-demons without fear of repercussion or a care in the world.
The Dhampyre was so disgustingly pleased with himself and his good fortunes, he pulled both the men at his sides into a crushing, hearty embrace. It was easy to do as a Tall Dashing Rogue when one of his companions was a Short King and the other a Posh Twink.
Then there was Leila, whom Joachim had had an arm around when Alucard enveloped him. She was unceremoniously swept into the motion against her will and the Dhampyre only realized he had perhaps a bit too many bodies in his arms when he finally looked down to notice her set jaw. Whether it was for the sake of their present company or the spirit of the New Year, Leila let him hug her too.
The first time since her mother had been murdered.
Auld Lang Syne had never sounded sweeter.
Notes:
I am not sure why this chapter was such a struggle. Maybe because it was harder for me to keep giving everyone a breather while still keeping things engaging. I need time to pass, but I don't want to bore you all. Anyway... Everyone is still having a good time and moving towards resolving their differences.
Alucard remains oblivious to his own feelings the minute they're nuanced and not knocking him over the head.
Joachim is a big bad wolf (legit and Bad PR at the same time) who is getting tired of being picked on.
Trevor's putting in the work to only do the things (or people) that he chooses from now on.
Leila's going to tolerate all their bullshit.
Chapter 61: Interrupting Routine
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
February 14th 2038 ~ Baljhet Mountains ~ Lost Commune
Secret gold splayed wildly and unkempt seemed to float across the very same pool of wine the pale muscular body beneath his thighs, long fingers and possessive grip tightening against the roll of his eager hips. Trevor so very much enjoyed the view from his position above, which had been by his design when the sample swatch colour of satin first slipped between his hands and set off his vivid and oft time anatomically precise imagination. Adrian was an absolute feast twisted in crimson. There had to be a way to talk the stubborn demon into incorporating more sanguine shades into his sea of black vestments, but that was a war the former Hunter would wage another time. Right now was not the time for drawing lines and airing gripes; It was Sunday. Even in a community full of devils, demons, witches and creatures damn near out of myth, Sunday was a day of rest and relaxation, and nothing relaxed the Belmont Hunter of a distant past more than climbing on top of his considerate, compromising and endlessly forgiving Dhampyre and that charitable Moroi's hefty, generous cock to chase his entirely self-driven pursuit of pleasure. Trevor was allowed this one selfish release of which he did not need to concern himself or feel ashamed of taking what he needed from the other man, and where he could be aggressive and self-serving as desired, rough and fast as required. This was his allowance.
On Sunday.
Late Sunday mornings, if he was to be wholly accurate. It was... A routine of sorts. Not their love-making thankfully, as Trevor imagined his sex drive would have withered and died if mandated to one of Adrian's numerous schedules, but this concession to Trevor's singularly selfish need vent his pent up anxieties and their pressure, vague or not in origin and his understanding on them, in the only way that gave him a quiet mind for sometimes even the entirety of the remaining Sunday. No little voices criticizing and deriding, or whirlwinds of self-doubt and ugliness.
Trevor needed this, in this utterly detached way, in order to have a moment's breathing room. So Adrian, patient and dutiful Adrian, allowed him this concession Sunday morning because Adrian did not work at either the embassy or in the city below on Sundays. On Sunday, if the Dhampyre needed a moment of quiet to reaffirm and remain at peace with why they'd wordlessly agreed upon this once weekly concession, he had the time to take with no other pressing demands. Because rough, fast and detached was not how Adrian wanted to make love to him.
Because for Adrian, making love required an emotional connection, even to a part-time lover or a one night fling, as he'd explained once to Trevor while they'd laid their values out face-up to decide how best to honour one another's in their union. Adrian needed the person he was with to be with him, in every sense of the phrase. To adore him as he was adoring them, to keep their eyes on him as surely as he would be watching them. It bruised the demon's ego to be in a position, however fleeting, that could have been as easily fulfilled by one of those buzzing little colourful toys. To be considered secondary. Replaceable. Except Trevor didn't like the buzzing and he wanted to be stay in control of everything while he chased this need. Trevor preferred the heated organ currently splitting him in twain. A colourful stick was simply not going to hit all the correct places. Nothing else could suffice.
Well...
...Don't even go there, you insipid nymphomaniac.
That was a decently new word he had learned. Always nice to use a new word so soon after hearing it. Of course the Tempter to his current wandering thoughts had been the one to teach him it, while citing exactly such a situation he currently found himself in as an example to why Joachim had concluded Trevor Belmont fit the qualifications of one. That the 'Rabbit' was want to fuck like his pet-name namesake at every opportunity was endlessly amusing for their Master. With his good hearing and that damnable Vampyre sense of smell, a liquid silver voice would sometimes lean over his shoulder while he sat reading or when they passed one another in the kitchen and whisper a number into his ears. A more often than not accurate number of how many times he'd convinced Adrian to let Trevor sink his claws in that day. Joachim loved to tease, he'd remind himself, but that didn't stop the little voices in his head echoing the demon back at him in nastier, more condemning ways that the elder demon originally had guessed his 'bedpost-notches' for the day, playfully.
Which was why he needed this.
Trevor placed his hand on the chest below him and leaned with his full weight. Not to dip lower and kiss the Dhampyre below him, but to better brace himself so that he could plunge the hot rod deeper. Every fraction of an inch was welcomed since he was so... so very close now. Once he'd rid himself of the noise in his mind he'd fall softly and sweetly into Adrian's arms. The Dhampyre would be given much more loving, gentle attention, as both gratitude and an apology for bruising his ego... Perhaps for bruising his heart as well. Sometimes Trevor was afraid that moment to himself Adrian needed after this concession was to convince himself that Trevor wasn't using him.
Trevor was.
But not like that. Not so callously. He hoped not. Truly hoped it didn't feel that way during or in the aftermath.
Once his ego was soothed, then they'd reengage not just physically but emotionally as well this time, and Trevor would slip easily into the demure little maiden role that was not exactly a role and more the extreme opposite of that aggressive selfish side to him that had just been indulged. Still Trevor Belmont at her core, but now the parts of himself that craved what Adrian brought to the bedroom. Attention and affection in endless supply. Worship and reverence. Oddly enough, as Trevor knew Adrian had a much stronger preference for men and male bodies, the Dhampyre sure seemed fixated on treating Trevor in these tender moment how the former Hunter imagined was the proper way to treat a woman. In the heat of things when kisses and the space between them hardly broke and where Trevor trembled on the precipice of that whole body release he had learned to embrace and surrender unto, Adrian sometimes, never predictably, huffed a dangerous compliment into his ear.
Good girl.
The compliment never failed to send him over the edge, and always stayed with him for days afterwards. Trevor would find himself looking at the Dhampyre in side-profile while he worked in his workshop or office, or at the kitchen table when he'd taken the surplus paperwork from the embassy back with him after hours and wonder, was that what Adrian truly thought about him? The Romanian ID card would find it's way out of his coat pocket and into his hands where he'd compare it alongside the international Demon Passport he'd received at the Church. One said he was male. The other said he was an X. Something other. Something that was both male and female, and yet different. Neither said he was a woman outright, and Trevor didn't feel like a woman in any regard. Except he didn't feel like a man in the end after all either. So it was confusing and complicated... That he liked it. He liked when Adrian complimented him that way, in those safe and intimate moments. Maybe he even fancied himself as Adrian's good girl. As confusing and nonsensical as that seemed and he could never, ever voice out loud. The horrible little voices inside always had a field day with that too. It's not been lost on them that Trevor's pleasures these days have come increasingly less and less from conquering and dominance when compared to how often he submits and surrenders. That Trevor's found he has an odd preference of his own, newly discovered.
Which was why he needed what he was doing right now, desperately. To shut everything up so he could fall under the Dhampyre two or three more times – four combined seemed to be Adrian's limit without a break in between, Trevor's realized – and graciously show his considerate and devoted Dhampyre just how nice and good of a girl he could be free of doubts and shame.
The body below him he is using so unabashedly rough has a grimace pulled out of it, as his living doll for this intensely selfish moment is mechanically brought to the brink as well. The twisted features of the porcelain below are reminiscent of something his mind immediately shoves to the wayside for his own mental well being, but like a fool he chases after it to pin down and examine.
You fucking idiot, Trevor Belmont. He chastises far to late, for it's already been ruined. The whole Sunday is ruined. No break from the storm, internal jeers or otherwise. A rotten brain has already pulled the image from the garden home kitchen table and slid that well-manicured beard over Adrian's clenched teeth, wrinkled nose and furrowed brow. Trevor can't unsee it. He's moaning and mewling while desperately riding Dracula's cock, and his own wilts the moment the association is made.
Adrian quickly realizes something is wrong and sits up, once more Alucard in appearance as he checks Trevor's body over for anything that might be amiss. He's so sweet and considerate like that. That's Adrian. Not Dracula. Trevor shakes his head when Adrian asks if he's hurt himself, and even harder once more when Adrian asks him if he wants to talk about it. Embarrassed and mute, he lets the still hard flesh slip free of his body and sits on the edge of the bed to contemplate his own stupidity. Even his traitorous mind had tried to warn him to leave it be.
I am not attracted to dangerous murderers, no matter how tall, powerful, and handsome their faces are. This should not even need to be said. Yes, he would admit and has to falling for talented and passionate people who are masters of their crafts easily, but murder was not a craft. Heart-racing danger and authoritative power were not acceptable traits for his lust to latch upon. Not even in fantasy.
So Trevor mumbles a genuine apology and let's Adrian who is now sitting at his side on the edge of the bed fold him into his arms. It's not fair for Adrian whose body is still aroused, so with a shush at the beginning of what was no doubt the Dhampyre's insistence that what Trevor was doing was not necessary, the former Hunter captures the lips making the protest and uses his hands to at least give one of them relief. Trevor is gentle and affectionate in the shared shower too, playfully washing the taller demon's back with only a few squeezes of his ass and allowing Adrian in kind to wash and condition his hair. It does make Adrian so happy to dote on him, after all. Not even letting Trevor dig out a dress shirt the same sanguine colour as their bedsheets and dress the demon in can make the chorus of nasty, insulting laughter in his head fade.
Another Sunday, maybe.
“I don't even recall ever buying this. Or now that I am thinking about it, the one I worse to Yoko's party.” Adrian's features are contemplative and troubled, and Trevor understands why. The poor man's thinking he's lost parts of his usually exhaustive memory.
Trevor spares him the agony of thinking he's losing it. Only one of them should feel that way at a time, he'd decided. They trade off bad habits and shortcomings, like many other things and today just so happens to be Trevor's turn to be a mess. “That's because you never did. I did.” It's half a truthful explanation, so he elaborates. “If you want to get technical, I bought them with Joachim's money for you, as I wanted to see you in these colours and fabric. I thought you would be a sight in them, and I was hoping to enjoy looking at you while you indulged me. It's permissible for me to enjoy looking at you?”
Adrian's vanity was so easily played upon, even when the Dhampyre knew Trevor was doing it. Almost as if he didn't care so long as he was flattered sufficiently. “Joachim's money is also my money, Trevor. We have combined assets, so it comes from the same place.” The shirt when on without further protest, and was followed up by yet another of those charcoal grey suits, although this one appeared to be of a higher quality, if that was even possible. The fancy striped vest with the gold embellishments he'd worn to the Belnades Yule festival also made a return. Replacing the silky tie was a black and gold fabric, pinned in just below the centre that Adrian told him was called an ascot. The whole ensemble made Trevor jump to collect the pet project he'd been working on secretly in his spare time just in time to hand it off before the Dhampyre had selected another pocket square to complete his look. “Oh... Trevor, did you make this?”
Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, he nodded. He knew he was blushing but funny enough, so was Adrian, so it didn't feel so bad. “Here...” Trevor started, taking back the the embroidered fabric to show how it could be worn in both the styles he'd seen Adrian wear the little pocket square, simple and with a more complex three peaks, and still have the Țepeș family crest on display, stitched in gold and threaded with small rubies, white aragonite and black hematite. The Vampyre had known just the supplier to bring Trevor to in the city to the North, Ondol to finish this in time for today. Handing it back to let Adrian decide how he was going to wear it, if he even wanted to, that is, Trevor lowered his gaze and wished demurely. “Happy Valentine's Day.”
Adrian tipped his head up so their eyes could meet and Trevor could drown in endless adoration. “Happy Valentine's Day, Trevor.” He responded just as softly. “I wasn't aware you knew what today was.”
“Back in France suitors and suitresses used to pen poetry or heartfelt letters to their potential lovers in honour of the saint. I'm not the best with words, so I thought I'd show you in my own way.”
“I feel loved.” Adrian promised him, kissing the first hand he could capture. Three peaks was also the style of the day. It looked good. Adrian was in agreement. “I have to take care of some business downstairs, but I will see you later, I promise.” Adrian divulged sounding almost regretful about the matter as he used the cute nickname for the city below. Downstairs made it sound so quaint.
“But...” Trevor began in the still moment that hung between them. Only the hum of the space heater – for Trevor's comfort – filled in the gap. He felt too foolish to finish was he had been about to say. Even so, he still wondered anyway. But it's Sunday?
Even when affairs at the embassy kept him overnight for days, Adrian always came back to spend Sunday together. Trevor got his selfish fix, then he was the perfect princess for his prince, and then they just went about their day, taking turns getting underfoot of one another and slowly sorting out the finer details of what domesticity between them would entail. It was their day. Adrian's schedule had made it routine. Something to count on. Not to mention, this Sunday was also... a special day. Advertisements and the trend of movies showcasing on television had taught him what Valentine's was to entail in the modern age, which was gifts, sweets, candlelit dinners and moonlit walks. Shared baths and confining one another to the bedroom. Six out of seven days a week Adrian had commitments to everything else under the sun, but Sunday was for them. Today was Sunday. And to top it off, it was also the most romantic holiday of the year, so he'd heard. Why of all god damn Sundays was today the one Adrian decided was best to take care of business that wasn't Trevor's overactive libido!?
Of course he would never, ever have questioned any of this out loud. He lived in Adrian's house, was clothed and fed with Adrian's wealth, and his physical and emotional well being was tended to as Adrian's tightly packed schedule allowed. Nothing was asked of him. He cleaned because he enjoyed doing a task that put things in the order his inner turmoil never allowed him to obtain otherwise. He cooked because it was fun to experiment with Joachim, as it was to bake disasters with Leila. That he did grocery and other basic needs shopping with the Vampyre was for the same reason. It was fun to get out and explore, eat new food, and catch a movie or a live show before they returned. It was fun to see just how simple it was for Joachim to enjoy himself, and Trevor had been studying the elder demon's methods in hopes one day he too could be satisfied with just earnest company. He minded their Manbeast neighbour's pups in place of Leila for the scant hours while she did her once weekly errand run more because he missed the presence of his children in his own life than to be helpful towards hers. None of this was asked of him. Nothing was expected of him. So how could he complain that Adrian, impossibly busy and so thinly spread his poor Dhampyre was, had to leave to attend yet more business. Even if it was Sunday?
“Have a good day.” He said instead, swallowing unjust indignation down.
“I'll see you tonight. I promise.” Adrian reiterated with a an affectionate twist of Trevor's hair. Then he was gone down the lift.
Trevor frowned and scolded himself for the childish tantrum he wanted to have. The urge to kick over a few things and such. Such a stupid and pointless expenditure of energy. Instead he went to the storage room to dig for something to wear, only to be annoyed again that most of his wardrobe was still inaccessible. Adrian had said he would make Trevor a proper place to store his meagre possessions, if he had not phrased it in such a harsh way, but it had been over a month now living together and that had never happened. Nor did it seem like it was to happen any time in the near future. Trevor put on one of the same outfits he had been able to get at previously instead before deciding to go to the kitchen and feed himself. Maybe he'd be less irritable if he wasn't peckish. On his way to the opposite lift he did take note of the battered tea box sitting on one of Adrian's worktables, dust having gathered over both table and item. Adrian had said he was going to 'fix it' whatever that meant in regards to the box back when he'd promised to make Trevor some space to live down in this lab. Looks like he hadn't done either, so perhaps the former Hunter should feel less put out by the oversight.
Leila was in her room based on the loud music muffled through her door. Not so loud that any people in the kitchen could not carry a conversation, but probably louder than what was considered polite and considerate. Everything smelled like caffeine and fruit, and when Joachim slid a steaming bowl of oats, granola, and berries under his nose as he took a seat at the table, it answered what would have been his first question. Toast with avocado and chopped egg came next, along with the black coffee. Trevor preferred the bitterness to offset whatever fatty thing he was eating in the morning, Joachim had learned. There was no point in asking how the demon had known to have breakfast ready at just the correct moment when Trevor already knew 'How couldn't I?' would have been the response. The red berries on his oats made a heart shape.
“Happy Valentine's Day to you too, Joachim.” Spoon poking at the cute little gesture of affection, he gave the Vampyre a genuinely warm smile. Joachim didn't deserve to be a second-hand victim of his irritation.
“Horribly commercialized drivel that it has become.” The Vampyre responded smoothly, sliding into the chair at the head of the table by Trevor's. The one where Adrian usually sat. “Oh my. What did our Kitten do to you this morning, Little One?”
Rather than answer immediately, Trevor groaned. “When are you going to teach me how to stop telegraphing my every emotion and mood to every demon with a halfway decent sense of smell? I know it's possible because Jerry says he and everyone else can never smell what you're feeling, which is why they're afraid of you. They can't tell if you're teasing or threatening.”
“Good. Keeps them guessing.” Joachim proclaimed. “I'll add that to your curriculum, pretty Rabbit, so now tell me, what has caused this frustration of yours?”
“I am not--” He might as well stop there. Vampyres had far more than a descent sense of smell. Plus, this was Joachim. They spent more time connected than not, and Trevor was starting to not even need the connection to read through the lines of the Vampyre's obfuscating mask. The same could most likely be said about the Vampyre towards his own emotions, stony expression or not. “It's stupid.” He stressed, but answered anyway as he polished off a tasty breakfast. Divulging the partial truth. The most superficial part of his irritation. “I umm... don't have anywhere to keep my clothes... Yet.” There was a strange expression on the elder demon's face, somewhere between laughter and surprise, and Trevor felt his face flush shamefully. “I know, I know, okay. I said it was stupid. After everything you two have done for me...”
“Bunny.”
Joachim's tone was so admonishing, Trevor flushed further. “I know. I am being dumb.”
“Bunny.” Again with that tone, even lower now and sounding almost disappointed. Trevor could hardly take it and was just starting to try and think of a suitable excuse to run away when Joachim reached out and forced him to look such glittery rings of silver head on. “Bunny you live here now. This is your home. What do people generally use their homes for?” He didn't wait for Trevor to answer for once, so this wasn't a test but a lecture. “To keep their precious things.”
That's one use, I suppose.
“Of course you are frustrated, Little One. You live here but nowhere inside this dwelling is your own. Surely you can see how that would be a point of contention. You have no space to breath.”
But, this isn't my house. I'm...
“Bunny.” Now he was being spoken to almost harshly. Like he was a student repeating the same mistake over and over again to a teacher with little patience left. “You live here now. This is your home. Homes have rooms. A kitchen. A sitting area. A washroom. Sometimes a study or workshop. What other rooms to people have in their homes, Bunny?”
“...Bedrooms.” Trevor hazard a guess, It was the obvious room omitted from Joachim's examples.
“That's right. Bedrooms. We all have a bedroom. Except you.”
“I sleep with Adrian..?”
“Bunny.” Oh, Trevor was on thin ice now. “Bedrooms are not just for sleeping. They are a private and quiet space to reflect, to get a moment to yourself, or to just breath. Everyone needs a private space that is there own, and you do not have one. So we will rectify that right now.”
“But... Where?” There was nowhere in the lab that made sense, nowhere on the ground floor that wasn't otherwise already with purpose, and Joachim had the whole second floor for his alchemy and esoteric research. Rather then get an answer, he was simply dragged up the stairs and into the hallway that separated Joachim's personal chambers on one side against his library and apothecary on the other. Trevor was granted access into the first door on the right and surprised to find himself not in yet another dimly lit archive or atelier, but a sort of cheery bright draft room. “What is this?”
“Rarely used space.” Joachim replied, waving him inside. There was a drafting table and stool with what looked to be architectural plans set in a corner, and along one far wall was a shelf made up of numerous little square holes. Each one had a roll or three of other drafts inside. There was a closet with a sliding door that was open, and a few stacks of nondescript boxes inside. There was a more plush and welcoming chair in the other corner, a stack of periodicals and graphs scattered by it's foot. “As you can see, the midday and evening sunlight comes right through this window, so I am loath to be in here during a large part of the day. There is nothing in this sunny little hellscape of a room that can not be relegated to another spot in this house. So?”
“...So?” Before Joachim could reach out and shake him, Trevor piped up with the correct answer. “So you are saying this can be my room? My own room?”
“There is your smile again, Little One.” The Vampyre enthused. “Think of how many pretty costumes you can hang in this closet. I dare say you may have to shop for more.”
Before Trevor could even get it together enough to say thank you, ghostly tendrils were blowing open the door and shooing boxes and paperwork out into the hallway. “W-wait. Can I... Keep that table?” He asked of the simple wooden drafting table and stool.
Joachim considered it and shook his head, adding, before Trevor could apologize for even asking for an ounce more than he was already being given, the demon's simple reasoning to why he had been denied. “That utilitarian thing does not serve you, pretty little Rabbit. My darling Leila has a host of furniture she does not use that suits your tastes much better. Go bring your boxes up from storage, and we'll see about putting together a space where you can think, breath and steal away to have your solitude. But before you go... What colour do you want the walls in here?”
“The walls..?” There was the door and wall with the little pigeon hole shelving unit off the hallway. The closets along the left. On the opposite was another door that Joachim had not opened and the current corner where the drafting table was. The ceiling angled towards the large window on the right, which had a nice cut-out below it one could sit with a book to read in. Trevor looked at the simple white all around, and chewed his lower lip as he inquired further. “Any colour?”
“Any colour, yes.”
On one of the periodicals was a square tacky piece of paper. Faded in the sun, it was a soft pastel shade of pink. Trevor knelt down to pull the paper off and handed it to the waiting Vampyre. “Even this colour?”
“Hmm... If you are all right with something just a touch softer in shade, then I do have leftover paint from Leila's room. We'll probably only have enough to coat two accent walls, so if your bed goes here...” The drafting table was pointed at. “Then we'll do this far wall and the window wall. Should have enough. That is satisfactory?” It was, and the demon was glad to hear it. “Then go get your things.”
By the time he'd extricated and carried the boxes up to the second floor there was a strong chemical smell coming out of the open doorway, and a cold draft from the cracked open window. The hallway was cleared of the old furniture and outside waiting was some more delicate white looking pieces in their stead. They kind of reminded Trevor of the white metal furniture that had been in the gardens of Adrian's home back in Lupu, although these were certainly made of wood and not metal. A peek inside revealed that the far and window side walls were now that soft shade of pink that Adrian's eyed turned sometimes, and that Trevor found just so beautiful. Joachim had worked fast, and was now painting the long wooden shelving unit with the little square slots white to match the wall it was against.
“You have so many little treasures you'll collect that I thought you could display them nicely here. We can move it out if you don't like it.”
“I do.” He was quick to affirm. “I do... Love it, not just like it. All of it.”
The paint had to dry fully before he could push all the furniture flush against the walls in their proper place and start placing his little collection of treasures in the freshly white pigeon holes, but the final vision was clear. In the closet hung all his clothes, with many more hangers at the ready and wait. Where the drafting table had been was now what he'd been told was called a daybed. A blend of couch and bed, with storage underneath. There was a mirrored vanity with a matching plush stool, that folded up to use and had lights, as well as several velvet lined drawers for jewellery, or in Trevor's probable case, hair ornaments. A delicate desk and chair completed the cozy basics. Or so Trevor thought until he took a peak at the person-sized ledge under the large slanted windows and noticed a pink and white throw blanket and a square white pillow set beside the ornate tea set he had been so distraught over Joachim picking up to sell back on Japan. The demon had saved it after all... And now it seemingly belonged to him. Trevor felt compelled to place a soft kiss on the Vampyre's cheek when he threw his arms around the other man in gratitude. Even standing in the dissipating fumes with another being, the space within these four walls that were now designated as solely his leeched a tension from him he had not known he'd been carrying for the past eight months. Adrianne the cat was already making herself at home on his daybed, and Trevor didn't see himself minding if she came to visit often either.
“So what's on the other side of that door?” Curiosity usually won out in the end when it came to Trevor Belmont.
Rather than answer, Joachim simply opened the door to reveal a deeply posh looking washroom. Black and white diamond tile and deep, rich blue accents. A tub to rival the one Adrian had back in the embassy was sunk deep into the floor, although this one looked to have two lounge-worthy areas to lay out in the water and not just seats. There were a lot of plants amongst the regal looking fixtures and expensive cosmetics. It took Trevor a full minute to realize he was letting out a long whistle.
“I can share... Since it is you, Little One. But you keep it to yourself or else Leila will think she can use my bathtub at her leisure.”
Trevor mimed zipping his mouth and throwing away the key for good measure, mind already fantasizing what it would feel like to soak in such a manner he imagined royalty bathed. Joachim was amused and allowed him to hop in and give the tub a 'dry run', watching him with twinkling silver eyes as he spread out across one of the built-in loungers fully clothed. Life really was about the little things, he supposed.
He was hauled out a short time later and told to get redressed. To wear something nice, specifically. Instructions relayed, the Vampyre vanished behind yet another door on yet another opposite wall, into which Trevor suspected was the ancient demon's private space. Joachim's bedroom. And while curiosity nearly always won out when it came to Trevor Belmont, so too did good sense. The great unknown would have to remain as such... Even if the former Vampyre Hunter really wanted to know how and in what state a Vampyre spent their leisure time. Perhaps he had spent a bit too much time wondering about that and not complying with the instructions he had been given as when his bathroom side door was knocked upon and an oddly polite Vampyre was welcomed back in, Trevor was still in what he'd put on that morning while Joachim was giving Adrian a run for his money.
These Moroi demons and their fancy, well-cut suits. Joachim had no suit jacket to pair with the dark pinstriped grey, only the vest, but it wasn't needed and in all likelihood would have detracted. The vest itself was a rich, deep purple reminiscent of gemstones in a pattern Trevor had learned was called paisley. The vest had matching tie, and both overlay a silky looking black dress shirt that subtly caught the light in every tiny fold. The buckle at the back was doing a hell of a fine job accentuating the dramatic cinch of the demon's impossible waistline which would have been sorely overlooked had he elected to wear a coat. It would have been a crime. A fashion crime. In fact, the body seemingly built to hang any article clothing off it flatteringly was leaving the former Hunter feeling rather inspired, and wondering if this was what it was like to have a Muse grace your presence.
Adrian had said Joachim dressed flashier than he did once and that little factoid dislodged and rolled around the brunette's head for just long enough that he was about to ask the Vampyre perhaps the stupidest and most dangerous question that could have ever come out of his mouth. Before he could possibly orate his suicide note by way of a question, the very Muse that had walked into his new bedroom breezed by his frozen self to rifle through his closet, pulling out garment after garment to hold up to Trevor's body before discarding and moving onto the next. They settled on muted gold pants, a black shirt that was slashed with semi see-through angled mesh, and well cut black leather coat. He covered his bite marks with the wide choker, gold band today, and one of his newer charms to hang off it, while Joachim gathered his hair up in that fashion that made it look like he wasn't trying too hard, but having seen the Vampyre work to get it that way... It was definitely trying to hard.
As he was marched downstairs they met up with Leila who was dolled out – another new term he had learned and was happy to use so soon – in a rose-hued short dress complete with black leggings and poncho with sleeves. So that was everyone then. Everyone looked really good. Trevor finally thought to ask where they were going. It was Sunday, after all, and on Sundays everyone stayed in. They didn't even go to Al's. That was the routine. Rather then get an answer, Trevor got a bemused but ultimately whole lot of nothing as they went back to the lab and from there downstairs to the city, caught a short ride on the street car to the centre of the main drag, and hopped off along with a crowd of people to stand outside a large building with a lot of exterior lighting. When he tried again to ask Joachim what was up he found the demon long gone, and he was alone with Leila.
Following the demoness closely as an attendant of some kind found her and ushered along through a separate entrance, Trevor found himself seated front and centre before in a large concert hall, if the resting and waiting instruments lined up were any indication. Behind and around them the crowd from outside filed in and filled the place up. When it was close to bursting, people sitting in three separate tiers and even in window boxes higher still, the lights dimmed and the musicians and dancers took to the stage. Brass glittered in the stage-lights and the bows of string and woodwinds raised at the ready. Then Trevor noticed secret gold dressed in charcoal and crimson slip into place behind a piano, Adrian's hands poised to play as his eyes watched for the cue. When Trevor next noticed his personal Muse grace the stage and take his place to conduct the orchestra, Joachim's delicate but precise guidance lead the symphony.
Trevor had never seen a show quite like that. The dancers were elegant and with aid of magick or their own wings in some cases, gave a dazzling show quite literally. Moving above and through their audience, the whole theme of the music and dance to be of passion and desire. As the lights dimmed further, spotlit now for a more intimate battle between the two antagonistic lover characters, the rest of the Orchestra fell silent and another spotlight fell on the piano. Joachim relieved himself from his conductors podium to join Adrian, finally taking up his violin that had been resting on top of the grand instrument the whole production.
There was a a wave of laughter that rippled through the audience when Adrian, not content to have Joachim simply stand by his side and play, took a moment to climb out from his bench and lift the Vampyre onto the piano like he was some sultry lounge singer in a seedy piano-bar. Another amused wave when Joachim, now seated where Adrian wanted him threw up his hands in a clear 'what the hell, man?' fashion, and one final more raucous one when Adrian's response was simply to fold his arms and rest his chin on them across the top of his instrument, grinning while he stared up at the Vampyre until Joachim eventually gave in and raised his bow, ready. To his left Leila huffed, disgust palpable at her biological father's antics, but Trevor found how that even on a stage with an audience, that the two demons could not stop playing with one another was incredibly endearing. Endearing in the same way Adrian followed Joachim around at Al's, interrupting and interjecting into every and all conversations the Vampyre was having with anyone who was not named Alucard. It was so painfully obvious the Dhampyre adored his Vampyre Master and craved all his attention. Just like now, Joachim was no longer at his side facing the dancers and the audience, but seated on Adrian's piano, facing him. By Adrian's design.
My poor Dhampyre likely has no idea why he's even doing it. Trevor mused to himself, confident he was correct about the motive. Adrian had no reason to examine and perhaps come to understand why he wanted all of Joachim's attention when the Vampyre was so quick to indulge him.
The duet of duets, both musicians and dancers began shortly thereafter. The male and female leads pushed and pulled against one another same as the piano and violin clashed, occasionally flowing in heady erotic harmony before the combative lovers broke apart, tempers flaring. A slap here, a kiss there. Trepidacious twinkling music notes hovering, breath held, before dramatic fraught plunges. In the end the lovers found it was far too painful to stay apart then it was to clash and thrash together. Their dance was still dangerous and deadly, but together they could glide along the razor's edge, balancing chaos. Lethal equilibrium achieved, they fell into one another and rested. Piano and violin following suit.
The performance was over and the audience surged to their feet to applaud. Trevor took his cue and followed suit, palms stinging by the time the applause petered out. The performers gathered on stage to bow, more cheers and applause thrown their way. The curtain dropped, and once everyone started to gather themselves to leave, Leila stopped him and they sat in place watching the crowd dwindle and the concert halls attendants gather trash and tidy seats. It was one of those helpful attendants, a young looking Nyx like Marcella, who came to collect them and lead them on stage behind the curtain. Most of the performers had vacated, but still seated at his place behind the piano was Adrian, and still seated atop it, violin in hand, was Joachim.
“Enjoy, Trevor.” Leila whispered while shoving him in their direction.
When he'd turned back suspiciously to ask her what she had meant by that, he found the Banshee had already joined up with one of the flutists and was following her off stage. When he turned back towards the piano an attendant was placing an ornate chair just before the demons and their instruments just as another one was setting out some candles and roses in flower vases. Wine was poured. Wine was tossed back. More followed. Everyone filed out, leaving the bottle, and only then was Trevor was invited to sit for his private concert.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Adrian asked, playing an unobtrusive melody softly.
“It was incredible.” How could he answer in any way but honest? “You are so talented it makes me envious.”
“I wish I could have seen your face. The stage-lights make it hard to see the audience.” Adrian lamented. “But I knew you were there, so I put in extra effort.”
“You should always be giving art your maximum effort, Kitten.” Joachim murmured without the usual lecture as follow up.
“You were phenomenal as well.” Trevor complimented easily. Truthfully.
“Naturally. Unlike our kitty-cat, I always give Lady Art the effort she deserves from me.”
Trevor laughed at that while Adrian rolled his eyes, neck and shoulders before settling back down to stare holes into Joachim, waiting. They stayed like that, Adrian's lips a pursed line as his gaze fell just short of a glare all while Joachim preened and pretended not to notice, for a long enough time Trevor wondered if he was going to have to break it up.
“Fine, fine, Kitten.” The Vampyre relented and lifted his bow. “Hurry up, I've grown weary of waiting for you.”
“Of course you have.” Adrian responded flatly without argument over which one of them had been waiting on the other.
“You haven't even told the Little One what this composition is called.”
“I will once we've played it for him. Hurry up, or we'll be here all night.”
“Why do I keep helping you when all I get is this indignity?” Joachim asked with a sniff and a sharp turn of his head.
To this Adrian stood up sharply and all but forced the violin under a pale chin and bow to strings before he leaned in far to close and hissed. “I wrote one for you too, so if you want to hear yours, you'll have to help me play his first. Understood?”
There was no need for a metaphysical connection to relay how the Vampyre felt about that sudden, low growl of a revelation. Silver eyes glittering again in the candlelight, even the dim intimate space could not hide how red the tips of his ears had flushed.
My poor Vampyre likely has no idea he even does that. Trevor mused to himself, confident as he was in that assessment. It would explain how Joachim's expression and words could remain stony and unaffected even while his ears were giving the game away. Ignorance was bliss, so they said.
What flowed out from the two instruments after all the preceding hullabaloo was a piece of music that reached right into Trevor Belmont's chest and grasped at his heart. It was melancholic and mournful, but with a steady throughline that somehow managed to sound both determined and optimistic against the oppressive sadness, which paid off as that selfsame melody smashed through the melancholia to a crescendo of victory before it fell softer, as if exhausted from the war it had won. It was so touching... Moving. But it cut short and the two demons lowered their hands to instead look his way expectantly.
“We ran into a problem when composing this, you see.” Adrian confessed.
“Yes, we could not decide how the story ends.” Joachim confirmed.
Adrian started and Joachim followed to play out a breathtaking conclusion, bringing the whole melody full circle. The determined beat surging ahead to victory but succumbing to it's wounds shortly after. It was poetic. For one glorious moment the music had touched the heavens. Trevor almost agreed right then that there could not possibly be a better ending to the composition. However, Joachim lead the next version followed shortly by Adrian. In this rendition the crescendo still peaked, exquisite war hard-won and not without casualty, but instead of the full circle back into Pyrrhic victory, the melody evened out, grew secure in it's harmony and finished with both strength and peace in it's final notes.
Trevor sat back and thought hard. Bittersweet tales always pleased the crowds more than a happy ending. For the good of the music, the fleeting moment of success fit the narrative better. He said as much as he pondered out loud, but he still couldn't settle on the obvious choice. “Maybe it's my stubbornness talking but if this were my story, I would expect the failure but want to pull off the miracle anyway. I never liked doing what people expected of me to begin with, you know?”
“Let's see then.” Adrian started again from the top and they played the whole way through, until the stubborn bloody victor limped long enough to climb to their feet and passed the finish line. Suddenly the obvious crowd-pleasing choice was not so obvious.
“Yeah, that.” Trevor decided on the spot. “It's kind of a fuck you to the turmoil from earlier in the music. But maybe you shouldn't be taking advice from a laymen like myself.”
Adrian found his response rather amusing, and laid his sheet music flat out to pen in the notes Trevor had selected. Once he was done he signed it, slid the sheets over for Joachim to sign, and then held the pen out for Trevor, waiting until he got out of his chair to take it. They wanted the former Hunter to sign his name as a co-composer. It felt silly when he'd written nary a note, but they were insistent, so he did. When he was finished, Adrian slid the music sheets into a ornate red folder and handed the kit out to him until he took them.
“It's called Beginnings, and I enlisted some help to write it for you. It's only fitting that you got to choose how your music ends, Trevor Belmont.” Waiting a beat for what had just happened to sink in, Adrian held out his arms so that when Trevor realized his eyes had gotten misty he already had an easy place to hide. “Happy Valentine's Day, Trevor.”
It was Sunday.
Sundays Adrian didn't go to work. They woke up, Trevor got his selfish needs met, played princess for Adrian, and then they spent the day quietly doing things together and apart. The family stayed home on Sundays and they didn't even go the their usual haunt, a little bar everyone affectionately called Al's. The work week was busy and unpredictable but Sundays were not. Sundays were stable. Dependable. Expected.
Routine.
Except when they were not.
Notes:
This one is a wittle shawty to tide everyone (myself included) over during this massive heatwave.
The next chapter is smut-central and a direct continuation of this one, but narratively the sweet feels needed a hard stop here for poignancy. Or something. I'm not always sure I know what I am doing, guys.
But if you haven't noticed, I did go back and fix formatting and typos up to chapter 43. If you have noticed, that's why. I cleaned up some of the run on sentences and where I used too many of the same word in a fugue state writing those longer chapters. In no way does this necessitate a reread. Some things were made more clear, but really, I think overall I only added maybe 5000 words to those whole 43 chapters.
I will be going over chapters 44 to now, but I am more secure about these ones, and likely will just be fixing typos.
Chapter 62: Bonus Content
Notes:
Just a small thank you for all the support over the years.
I will move this and any other bonus content to the end of the fic once it's complete.
Chapter Text
Numbers and Breakdowns for the people who are interested in that sort of thing, and a stupid chart I found online to modify~~
Height
Alucard - 196CM
Trevor - 172CM
Joachim - 185CM
Weight
Alucard - 109KG (240.3lbs)
Trevor - 82KG (180.8lbs)
Joachim - 79KG (174.1lbs)
Favourite Things & General Facts
Alucard
Colour - Red
Colour to wear (self) - Black
Colour on others -
-Blue (Trevor)
-Indigo (Joachim)
-Green (Leila)
Food - Green Tea Cruller, Pancakes (or crempogs)
Drink - Wine
Movie/Book Genre - Romance
Day of the Week - Monday (Seize the to-do list)
Birthdate - August 5th, 1232AD (805 years current)
Astrology - Leo (Zodiac) Horse (Chinese)
Hobby - Sketching, composing
Love Languages -
-Words of affirmation
-Gifts
-Physical Touch
Trevor
Colour -Silver & Gold
Colour to wear (self) - Brown/Beige
Colour on others -
-Red (Alucard)
-Gold (Joachim)
Food - Gigot d'agneau pleureur
Drink - herbal tea
Movie/Book Genre - Action/Fantasy
Day of the Week - Sunday (seize the man)
Birthdate - January 1st, 1457AD (581 years at current)
Astrology - Capricorn (Zodiac) Monkey (Chinese)
Hobby - Building/Fixing things (Like your fiancé's broken first marriage amirite?)
Love Languages -
-Acts of Service
-Quality Time
-Physical Touch
Joachim
Colour - Yellow (Kitten's eyes)
Colour to wear (self) - Blue, darker shades
Colour on others -
-Jewel like Ruby, Emerald, Sapphire (Alucard)
-White (Trevor)
-Rose (Leila)
Food - Sushi, Thai curries
Drink - Milk Tea
Movie/Book Genre - Thriller/Suspense/Horror
Day of the Week - Wednesday (Dies Mercurii/Woden makes for powerful spellwork)
Birthdate - September 18th, 0004AD
Astrology - Virgo (Zodiac) Rat (Chinese)
Hobby - Exploring, performing (music)
Love Languages -
-Acts of Service
-Quality Time
-Gifts
-Physical Touch
Again, just a bonus bit of dumbness as a show of my appreciation!
Chapter 63: Playing with Pheromones
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
February 14 2038 ~ Baljhet Mountains ~ Hidden City
Perfectly pleased was exactly how anyone could and should describe the Dhampyre revelling in Trevor's reaction to his grand romantic gesture play out precisely how the plan had been envisioned. Beat by meticulous beat all in the successful effort to woo a notoriously hard man to sweep off his feet, sweet sounds of symphony served as the sensual backdrop. Oh yes, Alucard was positively glowing. He'd be gloating too if he wasn't already aware of just how swiftly Trevor would shut that down, seduced or not, even if Alucard had been mindful to tip his hat a few times towards the Vampyre for the assist. In truth, settling upon this melody as Trevor's gift had actually turned into quite the treat for himself in the end, considering it had been decades since he'd completed any original music. An over-crammed schedule always the precursor, contributor, or outright reason for dreaded writer's block to hit when he did find himself with a spare moment. Always, of course, with Joachim, his creative lubrication several country boarders or an entire ocean away. Not only was gifting Trevor the harmony his heart sang when he looked at the Hunter a personal pleasure to fulfill, but it had been a lesson about taking things for granted as well. How satisfyingly easy had been to sit side by side his oldest friend and play off each other's notes. Like it always had been, just as it was always so easy to do the numerous other of his untouched hobbies alongside that same friend. The Vampyre challenging him to push the envelope, encouraging him to experiment, always easing into the same wavelength and understanding what Alucard could not put into words to help complete his visions. It was nice... It felt right. As things should be. But as he'd taken for granted for far, far too long.
So while Trevor still preened in a shy way over his thoughtful gift but preened none the less, Alucard reached for another booklet, this one the colour and sheen of amethyst. It contained yet more sheet music of which he proceeded to lay out. The second composition he'd prepared so lovingly – yes, even he would admit in this context it was lovingly – for the other man present and more than deserving of his overdue apology and appreciation. There may or may not have been a little extra satisfaction in his selection of gift wrap given the deep purple vest and tie the elder demon was garbed in that night.
I think I bought that suit for him..? It was hard to remember, but it did seem to be something he would have purchased. The Vampyre favoured midnight blues and similar hues, but Alucard always thought of indigo when it came to Joachim. Perhaps it was simply because that was the same colour his mind's eye perceived gazing at the demon's aura, or rather simply because... Well. Honestly, he found plush and lush indigo – a hue once relegated to royalty – to be a flattering colour for such delicate silver features. I may be the actual prince out of the two of us, but I think I've always believed your soft noble features fit the bill more, buddy. The ancient demon would certainly protest vehemently. Nearly chuckling at that thought as he could hear the argument word for word in his mind already, Alucard swallowed it down. There were some things he could never say out loud, and this was likely – no, definitely – one of them.
Setting his ruby red protected folder of sheet music down on the nearby chair, Trevor twisted around to then throw himself into the Vampyre's embrace, cuddling up with one of his arms thrown loosely around an accentuated cinched waist. Alucard's likely gifted vest was putting in a lot of work highlighting one of the other demon's best features. While Joachim tried to hide a smile from Alucard by turning his head away, perhaps expecting a jealous reaction for Trevor's enthusiastic physical show of gratitude, Trevor instead sought out his yellow eyes and inquired eagerly. “Is that song the one for Joachim? I can hear it too, right? Or is it private?” Oh, how it sounded as if Alucard were to claim the next performance a private show the Hunter would in turn feel rather deflated.
Well, we can't have that, can we?
“That's right.” Alucard answered softly, soothing his Hunter's fears while studying the fixated way Joachim was toying with the thin shimmery ribbon poking through some of Trevor's plaits before being lost in the loose ends of his ponytail. Observing next the mindless way Trevor's free hand toyed with the fine accentuated metal details and paisley pattern of Joachim's vest too as he maintained his gentle gaze, still smiling broadly at the Dhampyre. As was their custom, their energies coiled comfortably around one another's right under Alucard's watch. Physical and metaphysical, cuddled up and cozy. No shame, no secrets... And still a surprising lack of jealousy on his part.
It's a mystery to me how easy and comfortable he is living inside his own head with another sentient being. I don't understand how he isn't afraid of losing himself and yet... Have I just accepted this is part of who Trevor is? Joachim said he would want to do that with me as well. Coil up inside beneath my skin and see parts of me I'd rather not share... They both make it look easy. I suppose Trevor's just a better Desire demon than I am. Even before he knew he was one.
“You didn't have to do that.” Joachim insistence in a rather demure tone without meeting his eyes drew the Dhampyre's full attention. “I enjoyed my time spent with you composing Bunny's homage. That was gift enough for me, Kitten.” From body language alone, it was sure seeming like the elder demon rather be doing anything else but keep right in Alucard's company at current. One could speculate even so far as to be considering an option to bolt right then and there rather than accept Alucard's gift, which was kind of... Well. It kind of hurt, if the hesitant vibes he was picking up off the other man were true.
“It's easier to write music with you than for you, Joachim. Those insights and suggestions you provide me make the creative process much more fluid that it is a challenge to compose without them. You really don't want to hear the results of my hard work?” Alucard almost frowned but stopped himself. Somewhere in the numerous centuries they'd known one another, whenever his ego or heart was hurt he'd find himself having lashed out at the demon his pretty Prințesă was currently snuggling with. Unfair as it was every single time, it continued for ages longer, right up until the turn of the twentieth century. Until he'd built himself a mental 'tower' and walled emotions off as best he could. But he was down amongst the living again and opening his doors. Of course, since I am the new and improved model now. Foundation, glue, hearth and all that. The new me would recognize that he doesn't have to accept what I've prepared just because I put effort in. I've conditioned him to expect a hot or cold reaction from me. I know that. So I shouldn't be attempting to guilt him either. This isn't about me, and if it was, then my gift is not really a show of my appreciation nor an apology now, is it?
Having already talked his bruised ego back from the ledge and into accepting the unfortunate situation only one Dhampyre could be the blame of, when sweet Trevor Belmont spoke up with unquestionable assurity while wearing the very vulnerable expression that – were his words to be believed – should have been plastered all over the Vampyre's visage, Alucard believed him. With the pair wrapped up in one another's auras at all hours, it was becoming increasingly common for Trevor to emote for the reserved elder Moroi, and for Alucard to have started paying attention to the effects the words he used and far more importantly, the ways he was delivering them had on the demon, and correct accordingly. Underhanded or not, with clever utilization of Trevor as a cheat sheet of sorts, Alucard would admit their strained relationship had begun repairs and improved by leaps and bounds just over the holidays. So Alucard believed implicitly when Trevor corrected his burgeoning negative assumptions.
“Oh, Joachim very much does want to hear it, it's just that he is so touched by the thoughtful gesture that you've made him quite bashful. He is afraid that if he shows too much emotion over your music that you'll tease him or worse. I am of the mind that if you went to so much trouble to create such a meaningful gift then you would be happy if he openly showed you how much he loved it.”
“Who asked you?” Joachim grumbled, which while increasing in frequency was still rare behaviour for him, so again Alucard looked towards Trevor to catch the indignant pout Joachim was giving by proxy. That was all the insight he got before the live wire between the pair was cut.
Judging by how clearly amused the chuckling Trevor was, it was obvious which one of them was responsible for the sudden severance. He'd even gone so far as to capture the elder demon's face in both his hands so the Vampyre had no choice but to look the Hunter in the eyes while Trevor teased lightheartedly. “You are just so sensitive it's downright precious, you know that? What's the harm in letting your man treat you right once and a while? Respect your worth.”
“My man, you say.” Joachim did not quite scoff, but he may have nearly snorted. “It seems your lexicon continues to expand, Bunny, although I dare say I have questions about just what turns of phrase you're deciding to pick up and from who you are learning.” With a huff, he added. “Let us recall that you are the bride to be, not I, Little One. Shall I too start addressing you as Princess?”
“That title is for use by my direct underlings, so no, you shan't. I will concede that I am going to be getting married and thus, technically yes, I could be considered the bride to be. I am not opposed to the designation just by nature of what's dangling between my legs. However, some trusted sources have assured me that I am certainly not the first bride in this branch of the Țepeș household.” Oh, how self-satisfied that Trevor Belmont could look in the face of a now openly glowering ancient Vampyre. “You know what I think though, Joachim?” Not waiting for a reply, the Hunter forged on. “I think I would make an excellent secondary or sister wife. No actually, the best! We're already splitting chores and now we even share a bathroom. We can stay up all morning doing each other's nails while complaining about our wayward husband and his bloated schedules. It would be an honour to co-wife with you.”
Again, in spite of the growing frequency, a speechless Joachim was still an even rarer sight than a flustered, grumbling one. Trevor Belmont had just gone and stolen the ancient enigma's tongue while Alucard had watched him do it. Easily!
Perhaps it was not only Joachim who was being challenged and changed by Trevor Belmont's presence and influence on their day to day lives. What other catalyst could there be to explain how jumping on Trevor's victory wagon and refusing to pass up such a perfect moment to get in a bit of his own teasing, Alucard thought so little of surrendering to the chaos of the moment and threw up his hands in defeat. “Well, Joachim, if I was ever to star in one of those harem anime you and Leila like, it would certainly consist of a collection of androgynous pretty-boys surrounding and drowning me in their endless adoration.”
Out of everything that had just been said, it was an off-hand term the Vampyre next fixated upon, seemingly to take offence of. “Pretty-boy?” Liquid-silver tone began to boil. “I will not sit here and be insulted.”
“Where's the insult?” Evidently genuine given his expression, Trevor cut in to ask innocently. “It wouldn't be a lie for me to admit I consider your features to be very pretty.”
Although Trevor had sounded so earnest and simply curious, Joachim's parted lips pressed firmly together. “Bunny, after everything I have done for you today? You wound me, my pet.”
“How?” Trevor pressed, folding his arms to return the narrowed gaze. “Why can't you ever just take a compliment on it's own? I've only seen you accept them when they are tied to a statement that takes Adrian or whoever else down a peg. Like earlier, you were okay with me saying you played beautifully, but only because you were trying to stick it to Adrian about giving 'Lady Art' full effort. And the only time you have ever let me compliment your looks was the first time we met. Which you only did, I am guessing, because I said you were better looking than him that one time. Outside of those strict types of situations, you will deflect, deny, or ignore. Which is rather odd, you agree? Especially since you harp on me for having low self-esteem when I am paid a compliment but I refuse them? Was that a pot calling the kettle black kind of thing, because I will refer you to my earlier statement if so. Respect yourself and your worth.”
The Vampyre was left speechless again.
Alucard could only lean back and admire how effortlessly his Prințesă had captured and was now attempting to tame such a wild force of nature in such short order. Admire the things Trevor could say so easily without any fear of recourse. But just as he started to actually mull over what Trevor had just identified – Was it true? Did Joachim suffer in silence with low a self-image as Trevor was insinuating? – the Vampyre straightened in his seated place atop the piano and bit back.
“Perhaps I could were there an actual compliment to be found. I find only mockery here.”
“Again... How?” Openly agitated, Trevor still did his best to try and understand. “I was not aware being considered beautiful was so derisive. You have called plenty of people including myself pretty several times to date. Should I have been insulted all those times instead?”
Well now the Vampyre had really stepped in it, going by the whiff of annoyance coming off Trevor's person. Alucard was watching history in the making. Rarer than a grumble, and even more scarce than being rendered speechless, was Joachim solidly putting his foot in his mouth. Which was what he'd just done and was now trying to backpedal. Alucard had seen him fumble and fall victim to all three in succession this night, which had to be a record. “You are beautiful--”
“Which according to your logic is to my detriment.” Trevor both cut off and shut up the Vampyre.
Have I ever even seen these two disagree? I don't believe I have.
While Alucard didn't want to escalate what was perhaps their first fight – as far as he was aware – his curiosity did get the better of him in the end, leaving the only recourse left being to just ask the burning question. “Should I also be insulted? You have been telling me how pretty I am for centuries now.”
“Kitten.” Spoken as flatly as the glance shot his way, Joachim lamented through clenched teeth. “Such a lovely, wonderful night we were having, and yet you two seem committed to ruining the occasion. Are you absolutely set upon spoiling our efforts for your shared romance over semantics?”
“Of course not.” Alucard shot back, smiling devilishly. “I will over blatant double-standards, however. On principle alone.”
“These are not my double standards on display, Kitten. Out of the pair of us, the subject of beauty has always been disproportionate and skewed unfairly. You are lauded for you looks and that fact has always served you. Tell me, when we are together, have you ever once been dismissed and reduced down to merely a pretty face as if that was all you were worth? As if it were an insult? The answer is no, and I would go so far as to suggest you've never even taken the time to notice that I can not say the same. You are never my wife when the joke comes up. A joke that crops up so often by so many of our friends and peers that it's rather difficult to accept and classify the joke as anything other than public opinion at this point. Close your mouth.” Joachim's sudden command startled him, as he'd not even realized his lips had parted to argue back. The Vampyre then went on to combat the very accusation he'd been about to make. “Do not even dare to insinuate that I somehow view the traditional role a wife used to play as somehow lesser than that of a traditional husband. I may have been born two thousand years ago but I have lived in this matriarchy for half of that, and yes, I still consider this Commune to be Grandmother's. I take offence to the fact you even considered accusing me of that as well.”
“As well, huh.” Alucard, to his own surprise, sounded rather nonplussed and unbothered by the Vampyre's bristling, having quite the pile of information to sift through dumped upon him in a very short succession. “All kidding aside, why would you... The most ancient and deadly demon around... Care about being jokingly referred to as my pretty wife? It just seems so beneath you.”
“...”
All right, Mister Silent Treatment. According to Trevor, you're so sensitive he finds you downright precious. He also seems to think you can't accept a compliment because you have poor self-esteem. He's insinuated that you're having a hard time accepting my gift for you due to the same flawed opinion. My Hunter has claimed all of these things as fact because he believes them to be... If he is correct about any one... I would want to know that I have nothing to do with this. I would really like to hope my actions or treatment of you these past years haven't instilled any of these falsehoods into your core being. If you can't believe or accept there's any one out there in the world who would think you pretty, then that's a crime.
Speaking softly, he elaborated on his earlier question. “If you think I am mocking you by asking, I promise such a thing is not my intent. Truly, deeply, I just need to understand why you're having such a visceral reaction to being considered or outright called pretty.” When he was met with even more silence, Alucard bent over his piano and started to pluck out a muted slowed melody. Dragging the notes out so long and far apart, the music was almost indistinguishable. “You can talk to me, you know? We've got all night, buddy.” He continued to fill the tense air as promised while he waited, noting from the corner of his eye that Trevor had retaken his seat to wait patiently as well.
Joachim's furrowed brow and narrowed eyes did nothing to hide the mercurial shimmer of them even in the flickering candlelight. His furrow could hardly be called that as well given how impervious to lines his visage seemed to be. Just one of the numerous reasons their neighbours and associates tended to refer to Joachim as his wife in jest. Could not such an ancient demon tell that they perpetuated the joke with blatant envy? Delicate features and unblemished skin that contested and resist even a frown line was so coveted by those around him that they could only stand it by reducing him to a pretty face. A pretty wife?
“Do you know that your eyes almost entirely consist of lacunae? Or that the lacunae dominant pattern of your irises is commonly referred to as flower eyes?” This tangent seemed to throw aside whatever tirade had been forthcoming, so Alucard followed along it, regurgitating factoids as Trevor had so eloquently confessed once upon a time was something Alucard excelled at. “Flower eyes are said to be emotionally driven, wise, and naturally intuitive. They make great friends as they are encouraging and committed in their relationships. More importantly, out of the four predominant iris types, the flower is the pattern I find the most beautiful.”
The muted melody he played continued to drift amongst and through the drawn out battle of wills. A war so lengthy that Alucard had damn well nearly forgotten he'd declared it once the Vampyre conceded defeat. In the waning candlelight, a hushed careful voice explained in as few words as possible of the real horrors at the root of one eerily still Vampyre's discomfort.
“While I was still a human child, I would entertain my Master's guests.” Joachim reiterated the revelation he'd shared before Christmas, whilst trying to ease Alucard of his own shame at Lilû's hands. This was now the second time Alucard was being told of unspeakable evil, and his anger boiled over at the mere mention of the monster who'd stolen a babe from out of a shared haystack from that baby's family. A vile stain on the earth that had groomed and twisted that poor slave boy so cruelly that the shadows of the devil could still pull on that same servants strings a millennia later. Body free but mind forever imprisoned, dancing to Walter's tune. “Those guests. They all called me pretty. Especially when I...”
Fucking Walter Bernhard. If he weren't already dead and dust, I would kill him all over again. I'd take him apart piece by foul piece and incinerate every fetid fucking scrap.
“...When I... Look, it doesn't really matter now, does it? Is that answer sufficient?”
Alucard snapped his finger and pointed at Trevor to silence him before his parted lips could ask any followup questions or insist on context. Once he was sure the Hunter had gotten the message to let it go, no matter how obsessed he was in getting to the bottom of the Joachim and Walter mystery, Alucard pushed away from his piano and came around the side to fold the smaller demon into his arms. It was either that or burn their home down to cinders just to ensure that preserved head Joachim could not let go of was reduced to ash. Only when he felt hesitant hands commit to returning his embrace did he speak.
“Say no more.” He assured gently. “I am sorry monsters poisoned such a lovely word for you. Perhaps one day soon you'll be able to divorce it from bad memories... Being pretty like you are isn't a bad thing in itself. You didn't do anything wrong by being born that way.”
“...I know that. I just don't appreciate being considered as only such without any further merits. Which is what seems to be the implication when I am reduced down to just your 'wife'.” Spoken as if it were the beginning of an apology, Joachim's tone gained strength and a touch of sass. As Trevor had identified, the demon's methods were to deflect, deny or outright ignore a straight compliment. “What a way to kill the mood of your grand seduction, Kitten. You truly had the Rabbit so head over heels for you that I was choking on the pheromones.” Joachim pushed him away and folded his arms. Even the Dhampyre was not so oblivious he couldn't tell the posture and deflection was protective and defensive, but that was all right.
“Oh, I'm still seduced, don't worry about that.” Trevor chimed in from his chair. He was sprawled across it haphazardly, one leg thrown over the armrest, watching them intently. And while his question was spoken lightly as if in jest, Alucard could see the gears spinning behind his grey-blue gaze. The Dhampyre pitied the Vampyre's coming days as Trevor would chip away and wear him down until he could finally demystify the messy history. “So what is an okay compliment then? How does a potential suitor properly express his physical interest in you acceptably, Joachim? May they call you handsome? How about fetching? Plain old attractive?”
“My suitresses have used all of those and then some, Bunny.”
“Suitresses, he stresses.” Trevor snorted.
“I do favour the female sex, yes.” Joachim confirmed to certainly not the Dhampyre's surprise, but Trevor did not appear to buy that.
“So you keep insisting. I kept insisting something similar to myself too, but I am starting to think I just like looking at pretty girls with an eye for aesthetic appreciation of sorts. It doesn't hurt that their outfits are so much more fun to observe and copy. Still, I only seem to fall in love with people after I've come to know and trust them. Are you sure you're not in the same boat?”
“I am quite certain, with two thousand years of evidence to back it up as well.”
“But you like me.” Trevor countered, openly and without fear of recourse.
And once again... I am shocked at how not upset by this reminder I am. Is this really all right? My fiancé and my...
“Bunny you're having a good time tonight, I can tell. You don't want me to tarnish Valentine's Day, do you?”
“Do your worst.” Trevor challenged this time. “Nothing can sour my mood right now.”
Challenge accepted, the Vampyre slid off the piano to lean over Trevor's relaxed form, bringing them almost nose to nose so that when fangs were bared to oblige, the combative sexual tension was palpable. Just as Trevor had no doubt felt out of the loop during Alucard's exchange with the elder demon, so too did Alucard feel he was missing vital context when that silver tongue growled next. “I have been frustrated, Bunny. Do you have any idea what suffering your conditions have inflicted upon me these past few months? You force me into celibacy for the sake of your schemes and now here you are attempting to pull this stunt? Fine. I am a simple Desire demon, after all. I catch the scent of ovulation and my instinct can't help but drive me to try my luck at procreation. The first time we met, you were in heat, little Rabbit. Your fertile grounds confused me, Trevor Belmont.”
“No...” Trevor reared back. “You can... You can smell that?”
“Of course.”
“Can he smell that?”
“Kitten's usual selection doesn't necessitate paying heed to that, so likely not. But he could if I pointed it out to him next time it happens. Which I am definitely going to point out next time, I've just decided.”
I guess that means I don't have to convince Trevor to have an internal ultrasound just to confirm the Church's findings. Lefty is functional after all.
“Tell me who else can smell that!” Trevor, now scandalized, practically begged. Still a demand, but it was riding that line thinly.
“Jeremiah.” Joachim divulged with sick glee. “Why else would you think he's so obedient towards you now, Little Princess? I bet you'd have such robust children together.”
“No, no, no. He is obedient because I kicked his ass like you told me to do.”
“I didn't tell you to sit on his face and gloat after you did, now did I? That's straight up flirting with his kind, and now that he's also caught the scent of you in heat, the poor wretch is down bad, Bunny. So are the rest of his cronies. Like it or not, you truly are their princess now and they're just waiting to see if you'll allow one of them make you their queen.”
“That doesn't make any sense.” The Hunter sat up suddenly and folded his arms. Secure in his sudden epiphany, he refuted the Vampyre's entire suggested narrative. “I don't have any inroads to make that even a fleeting possibility, so how would I be attracting that type of attention?”
The Vampyre shrugged. “Where there's a will, there's a way, so the saying go.”
“Not in this case!” Trevor insisted. “This is a dry well, boys.”
“Regardless, you still confuse our mating drives with your biological functions and their entreating perfumes.”
“Gross and rude. Isn't it against the social rules here to openly smell each other? I feel like that was one of your lessons back in Japan.”
“Well...” Joachim started, but halted when Alucard pulled him up from leaning over Trevor's chair and back against his chest.
I may not be consumed with possessive or obsessive fixations like I feel I ought to, but that doesn't mean I am going to sit here and enjoy being ignored either. If you're going to flirt with one another and call yourselves my co-wives, then pay attention to me, damn it.
Giving Trevor a wide grin, the Dhampyre craned his head both forward and down just as he was pulling silver hair aside, inhaling long and deep the aroma of predominantly wild runaway rivers, hints of sweetened earth and warm spice clinging to the skin of the neck he nuzzled against. “This is what's rude when done in public. It's more of a quiet corner booth or bedroom activity.” The Hunter's eyes had grown wide by the time he'd looked up from his demonstration. “You can't fault a demon with an acute sense of smell for doing what comes natural to them. So long as they're not panting down your neck to take in your bouquet, you'll just have to come to terms with the fact you currently live in a society where some of us can tell by aroma alone what you've eaten, where you've been, who you've been running around town alongside, and who you're currently sleeping with.”
“And apparently when I am imitating a chicken.” Trevor grumbled a bit but overall did not seem overly upset by the revelation. His hands did briefly press against the left side of his abdomen unconsciously, but nothing further came of it. “Well... I suppose we're all slaves to our baser instincts and biology in the end. If I catch Jerry or any of his hanger-ons smelling me however, I am going to snap off his other horn but I won't be shoving it in his leg next time, I'll be aiming higher. I hope he knows that.”
“Oh, I'm sure he does, although that might only serve to entice him...” Joachim mused. “And... Perhaps you are somewhat correct in your assumptions. Your heat may have been what piqued my interest, but it has most certainly been your lovely personality that's charmed me, Little One. We've only known one another a short time comparatively, but I have found you've proven to be a precious and honest friend even still.”
“I feel the same way.” Trevor brightened instantly, back to the cheery and almost doting manner with which he and the Vampyre interacted. “My conditions are also for a greater good, I promise. I am doing my best so that you do not suffer too long.”
Why do I have a feeling that I will not be told what this business is with whatever these conditions entail?
“All that tenderness aside, you lose, Vampyre. I am still properly seduced. Oddly even more so now than I was before you told me my best minion Jerry wants to get in my pants and half the city can tell when my body is performing it's fruitless egg endeavour. As victor, I am demanding you tell me how a suitor – that would be one out to pursue a relationship with you who happens to possess a cock instead of a vagina, of course – could pay you compliment.”
“Kitten, your pet is deadly and crass when he wants to be.” Joachim bemoaned not for the first time. The language portion of the complaint was certainly for the first time, however.
Is this really the first time I have ever heard Trevor say the word vagina? He was pretty sure it was, and it did make him giggle like a schoolboy hearing a naughty word for the first time. Ignoring the fact that vagina was the textbook accurate name for that part of a woman's anatomy.
“Can you say vagina for me again with your French accent.” Alucard asked with a burst of mirth.
Without missing a beat, Trevor changed his focus to Alucard and with a bright smile and innocent face listed off the accurate names for nice and normal body parts. “Mons pubis. Labia majora. Labia minora. Urethral opening. Vaginal opening.” Pausing just to enjoy how funny Alucard was finding these completely acceptable terms, Trevor stressed the final one for the Dhampyre's maximum enjoyment. “Clitoris.”
“You two are so immature.” The Vampyre sighed in his grip whilst Alucard snickered uncontrollably. It was the accent's fault. Why couldn't Joachim see that?
“Oh, just give him what he wants then. It's really the only way to survive with your sanity and dignity intact.”
“This is not such an easy request as you are making it out be. Compliments were seen as frivolous how I was raised as I was driven for perfection simply because that is... was... Expected. No more or less. There was no praise for accuracy, only punishment for failure.”
Buddy, I don't even know how to begin helping you heal all this trauma you refuse to recognize. While Alucard's immediate reaction was to hug the body in front of him tight enough perhaps some brutalized inner child might feel even the ghost of his comfort, Trevor's certainly was not. The Hunter was still out for blood.
“That wasn't my question. Stop dodging it. Unless this convoluted way is how you are trying to tell me that you don't know how to take a compliment, which I could understand, given my own issues... But even I had praise I was comfortable with at my worst times.”
“Fine then.”
“Fine..?”
“Yes, Bunny. You are correct. I now realize that I am deficient in this area.” Joachim agreed. “It feels utterly undeserved to be lauded for frivolity that I can only perceive these attempts to pay small compliments as mockery. Which you are trying to teach me is... Incorrect.”
After a measurable amount of time that Alucard would concede qualified as a Belmont Pause, Trevor climbed out of his fancy chair to once more throw his arms loosely around the Vampyre's slim waist, reaching past to hold Alucard's sides, effectively trapping the oldest demon between them. The Dhampyre had been so transfixed by Trevor he'd not realized he still had hold of Joachim. “Well don't say it like that... It's not your fault.” Trevor chastised gently. “You just need... Practice. Training. You like learning, so this should be easy enough. To start, when I think you are dressed sharply or your hair has those attractive soft little waves, I am going to tell you that you look lovely, Joachim. You'll let me say so?”
“I'm not sure I have much of a choice in the matter.” Came the easy deflection that Trevor promptly ignored.
Instead, the Hunter removed one hand from Alucard's side to resume toying with the elder Moroi's vest and the fine stitching in his shirt sleeves. “These garments are exquisitely made, and this pattern on the vest and tie is quite beautiful. I heard it was called paisley and originally represented life and eternity. While I do love your everyday blue hues, this colour and it's pattern suits your features perfectly. What I am trying to say is that tonight... You look lovely, Joachim.”
“...Adrian picked this out.”
I knew it. Indigo and rich purples look fantastic on him but he'll never pick them out by himself.
“Adrian has superb taste, I won't argue that.”
I know what I like. The Dhampyre smirked smugly. Wait. What?
Now Trevor was pushing against the slimmer demon which in turn lead Alucard to take small steps back lest Joachim be crushed. They were being expertly herded back towards Alucard's abandoned instrument. “So... If I say you look lovely, Joachim, and you are practising how to accept an honest compliment coming from a good place, you would respond with..?”
Alucard's hips hit the polished ebony wood before the others, naturally making it so that he was the one to break free of their little dance first, turning just in time to catch Trevor pinning a flustered Vampyre against the side of the concert hall's grand piano. The clear divide of who was predator and who was prey in the situation more than apparent. The absurdity of the sight was far too intriguing for him to continue searching for the root to explain why he still lacked upset, nor question why he found no jealousy stirring in his heart. Bearing witness to a two thousand year old bastion of poise and grace reduced to stammers and helplessness before a bite-size demi-demon was impossible to tear himself away from. Rather, he felt the urge to rejoin the tangle the other two were now in, and see if he could successfully challenge the smaller brunette for his dominant position. Logically, would not claiming the one who'd caught the other make them both his? Securing Alucard's place as the top predator?
You be careful with those random thoughts. A cautious inner voice warned him. You are a civilized man, not an animal out to rut. Demon or not, you keep playing to instinct and you're bound to do something you may never be able to take back. Change dynamics that will never be the same forevermore.
“...Thank you.” Joachim supplied the correct answer so completely to the Hunter's great delight that the smaller man hoisted the elder demon back into place atop the piano with a bright grin, as if he'd never left where Alucard had first placed him. The warning that cautious little voice had been trying to raise fell on deaf ears when Trevor Belmont's touch lingered on that accentuated slender waist far more than the action performed should require.
“You are very welcome.” That was definitely a purr, not a reply. Those hands lain flat on either side of Joachim's toned thighs were also very much still touching those same taut muscles. Their slide up along the smooth top of the instrument also undeniably a slide up along the outer seam of dress pants Alucard had picked out with care. The Dhampyre wanted to touch too. The seams or the hands moving along them, he couldn't quite determine right then. “Being such the lovely creature that you are, Joachim, don't you agree that you deserve to hear our precious kitty-cat's music? He wrote a piece just for you, after all. Let's have him play it for us, okay?”
“Please...” Entranced by the devious seducer before him, the ancient demon nodded, half turning towards Alucard. “Let me hear your melody, Kitten?”
Nodding silently and equally enthralled, Alucard slipped back down onto his bench and reshuffled the sheet music to ensure all was in proper order. Everything was mirrored back to how they'd found themselves earlier, only this time Alucard was not smug and drunk on his own ego and bravado but rather equal parts curious and intrigued by a mix of emotions he could not pin down. Trevor was far more fierce and the hunger lingering in the gaze he cast Alucard's way only fuelled the excitement and confusion his body contained. Joachim was the most affected by the shift in the air. Uncertainty and apprehension as sharp in a scent he currently had no control over failing at concealing the notes of burgeoning, growing warmth. Familiar perfume of wild nature, trapped and ready for taming if the Hunter would only slide the bridle on tight.
Long fingers began to caress ivory and through that loving touch he built a reflective, contemplative atmosphere, pining long-drawn nostalgia amplifying the agony that was loss. The music grew conflicted, pulled in violent ways all while the steady partial refrain beat like clockwork, communicating how the subject – even in chaos – was still confined and controlled by powers beyond their ability alone to overcome and break free of. Bereft of it's missing piece and frozen by indecision on how to move forward. A shielding curtain of notes overtook the chaos, transforming the raging storm into summer shower and bringing back the missing notes that the partial refrain had been missing. Warmer. Softer. Airy and playful. Fluid and deep. The music now the embodiment of freedom, Alucard's composition incorporated callbacks to previous melodies he'd composed in dedication of the subject he was performing for in years past. Their inclusion had the desired effect, the expression on the open visage he was beholding matching the fond, comfortable sound. Silver eyes held naked adoration for him. Performing the piece with the aid of the concert hall's acoustics truly transformed the work. It was perhaps the greatest music he had yet written, and certainly the most romantic, even if that had not been his intent when penning the notes between the bars.
Because silence would have just been unbearable after a performance of such sweeping emotions, he softly free-formed a leitmotif of the composition, and revealed the title with just as much quiet pride as he had of Trevor's piece. “Shelter at the Sea's Edge.” A glance up was met with twinned awe. While his audience's arms were around one another in open affection, their attentions were entirely upon the maestro at the bench. “Did you like it?”
Alucard... Couldn't quite say exactly what happened next with any degree of certainty. He noticed the piano bench was laying flat on the stage, narrowly avoiding stacked candles when he took a moment to try and gain his better senses, but the potential fire hazard seemed the furthest thing from what mattered. Trevor Belmont's fragrance, delicious and desirable, was filling the stage and making an attempt to cloud all of the Dhampyre's higher functions. Then the same could also be said of that enticing and exciting rush of a scent, wild and free. Nearly having caught both his marks at the piano side served only to whet his appetite, with the prospect of a hunt for his dinner sending an intensely pleasurable shiver down his spine. Trevor was coy and almost drunk on mirth, giggling and teasing him with every sidestep and twist out of his reach, all while he caressed and clung in some manner of fashion to the wary looking Vampyre who was obviously looking for the nearest exit. Something was not right with that... But the challenge was more than perfect. What good was a hunt without the chase?
“Oh, Joachim, he looks so hungry. It's a little scary, right?” Trevor purred, sounding far from frightened and instead seemingly ready to be devoured.
“Dangerous is more like it...” The Vampyre murmured seemingly to himself, still tugging the Hunter along towards the fire escape. There was something... Different about the elder demon. Something that kept drawing his attention. Just why wouldn't the demon look at him long enough to puzzle it out?
Pay attention to me!
“Aww, but our big kitty worked so hard tonight. Maybe we should let him have a teeny tiny taste?” Trevor's lascivious suggestion had no bearing on his actions, as it appeared he was having fun dodging and ducking around stairwells to follow the Vampyre's flight.
The moment they pushed open the backdoor, Alucard launched himself in a bat form through the narrow gap, reforming just in front of them as the heavy door clicked shut behind them. Now he had the pair pinned down, and pounce he did, capturing both smaller bodies in one sweeping arm, inhaling deeply. Their combined scents were maddening, enhanced as they were. Stroking the soft plaits on the side of Trevor's head first, the Hunter simply continued to purr, neither helping nor hindering Joachim's obvious attempts to break them free. Satisfied, the Dhampyre slammed the gentle hand he'd pet Trevor with hard against the door beside the Vampyre's head, successfully drawing his attention which was exactly what Alucard had desired. So many acquaintances and associates day in and day out captured and stole what was coveted and rightly Alucard's, but not tonight. Tonight the eyes were on him, so he could marvel freely that where silver should be was instead soft pink. The flower irises he'd spoken of earlier now truly resembling their petal namesake. Such a beautiful pattern and now with a purely Valentine's Day hue to match... Mesmerizing.
Moroi with pink eyes... There's something alarming about this I am forgetting right now. But it is such a soft and pretty colour.
“So lovely...”
Gentle pink rose petals bloomed wide right before Alucard found himself flat on his ass. There wasn't any anger in the way he laughed and rolled to his feet, or in how he chased after the fleeing duo down back alleys and over concrete walls and chain-link fences. There were smaller pockets of demons their game of cat and mouse moved through, but a single possessive growl from Alucard was all it took to keep them in their places. Such a wonderfully delicious smelling pair of treats were not to be shared, no matter how enticed the aroma they gave off made the rabble. This was fun, he decided upon scaling a squat building in an attempt to cut his running prey off yet again. At least one of the morsels was of the same opinion, Trevor still all smiles and suggestions that perhaps it would not be so bad if Joachim let them get caught. What was the worst that could happen? There was no convincing the Vampyre however, and Alucard found himself far more pleased with the prospect of dominating the demon than having him simply bend to his or Trevor's will.
No one knew the city better than he did, he assured himself with a wicked grin. The hands hauling him over pipe and brickwork had been the very same that first dug down into this underground aquifer. His tomb had been it's first structure, and every stone, stick and speck of dust passed through his hands at one point in time. Of course he knew the best way to traverse this space. Of course he surprised both his prey when he cropped up in what must have seemed like an impossible scenario to them, leaping from the scaffolding to wrestle the only one of them who actually seemed intent on escaping. Of course he could overpower the wild beast below him when Trevor's cloying charms was robbing them both of their Wills. Without the Force of Will to bolster abilities, this came down to a plain old size game, and Alucard had that in spades.
“You are not in your right mind, Adrian.” Pretty pink eyes was protesting weakly. “You are going to be so embarrassed once you find your better senses and then you are still going to blame me for this somehow, so just stop it. We're in a run-down back alley of all places.”
“My city isn't run down.” He growled, hauling the smaller body up off the asphalt mostly because he didn't want the sexy cinched vest to tear on any stray stones. Pinning the wriggling demon against a storehouse siding seemed like a much better idea, and it seemed Trevor Belmont was in an agreeable sort of mood enough to help. Figuring leverage was the best course of action to keep the skittish thing from bolting yet again, he shoved a thigh between the elder Moroi's thighs and pinned him in place. The reward seemed to be a strangled sort of mewl, clamped down on before it had truly reached it's apex.
“You traitor.” Joachim hissed in Trevor's direction. “This is your doing and I am just trying to ensure you take care of it in a safe enclosed space, not out in the open where your pheromones are currently drawing in every sentient life form with the ability to mate!”
“Make that noise again.” Alucard demanded and when that didn't work, he resorted to pleading. “Please tell me how I can draw that noise out of you.”
“Do you not understand what I am saying? This has happened before and it is dangerous, Adrian. You need to get Trevor inside your lab before this entire city block gets caught in his trap. Is that what you want, Adrian? Do you want a hundred or more demons lining up to orgiastically mate with your Prințesă?”
My Prințesă? Exchanging a measured look with the lovely little brunette doll helping to keep the Vampyre under control, Alucard shook his head, finally some flash of reason briefly breaking through.
“No... No, you're right. I am not thinking clearly and neither can anyone else under this influence... I did something to Trevor the last time this happened. I...” He turned again to meet pretty blue-grey eyes. “I think I did something terrible to you...”
“You could never.” The pretty little doll insisted adamantly. “We love one another far too much for that, right?”
“I do love you...” Already sinking back under the spell, Alucard agreed, soothed.
“It is his ears.” Trevor revealed in a hushed voice, as if sharing a secret. “When you lifted him up off the ground the back of your knuckles grazed his ear. That's how you get him to make the sound.”
“Bunny, do you have zero sense of self preservtio—Nghh!”
Trevor was right, Alucard conceded pulling back. The smaller pointed shell his tongue had just traced was beet red and twitching in any and all directions as if it was trying to run away same as it's owner was want to. He caught it between two fingers to ply, finding that gripping the back of silver hair and running his thumb slowly along the fold of flesh connecting the appendage to the demon's head drew out the most delightful, arousing sounds. Trevor was also onto something when it came to the smaller demon's joints, the Hunter too was now pulling out low whimpers as he kissed along the inside of Joachim's elbow, wrist bones, knuckles, dragging his tongue along a slender thumb before finally popping it in his mouth. Alucard was transfixed by the sight, although it didn't last too long.
Coming off the digit to instead kiss a palm, Trevor revealed next in that soft secretive tone an actual shocker. “I was afraid to tell you earlier today when I first saw you in that paisley vest what I really thought, but you seem a lot less intimidating right now.”
“Please save it for when you're of sound mind, Bunny. Or how about you tell me back at the lab. Let's go home first and you can tell me anything and everything to your little heart's content.”
Promptly ignoring the plea, Trevor whispered into a crimson tipped ear. “You inspired me today, Joachim. You have a frame that any piece of cloth would sit well and hang beautifully off of. I thought to myself, this must be what's it's like to be visited by a Muse, you know.”
“I have said you got a runway model vibe before.” Alucard agreed.
Bristling, the Vampyre snapped, even shaking his hand away from the ear he was toying with. “Insultingly, I recall.”
“Are you sure? I honestly do think you could fit in perfectly with the rest of the Paris Fashion Week crowd.”
“When you said that, you said it dismissively. Yes, I am certain.”
Eyes rolling, the Hunter slid more between them to break up the bickering, but also so that he could stare up at the pretty pink flowers and purr his suppressed desires. “I want to dress you, Joachim. In all kinds of ways and all kinds of styles, but I have something very particular in mind for the first time. That metal harness of yours... I saw something similar to it, but slinky and delicate, just like you. It's called body jewellery and I want to see you adorned with it. Then I want to corset your waist just to see how small we can make it and cover all the tempting bits with an A-line dress in the lightest, slipperiest fabric I can find so that it glides across your flesh. Stockings and undergarments all to match. And when you're all perfectly put together, I want to grab that tiny waist of yours and hike that dress up just enough to kiss a hipbone and see where the trail those intriguing little scars of yours take me... Those little diamonds are the only marks on your flesh and I am hoping if I pay them enough attention, you'll sing me their story one day soon.”
Alucard watched his innocent little Prințesă relay all of that with a near threatening seriousness. Walking his fingers in an arc from the Vampyre's approximate hipbone in question towards where inner thigh connected to torso for emphasis. Not quite following the path the scars took on Joachim's body, but then the demon always covered himself by towel in their sauna. Trevor likely had not seen them on full display yet. Alucard had been helping to hold down the demon his little doll wanted to torment with exquisite pleasure, but gods be damned did he now want to help fulfill that deadly desire as well, even just to watch it play out. To show Trevor how they also fell in a pleasing bow towards the back like an invitation, and watch his reaction when he learned these diamond scars were the reason the Vampyre was here with them right now.
“Sorry, Bunny, but I am not a woman.” The Vampyre outright denied Alucard's precious Prințesă.
“What's being a woman have to do with playing dress-up together?” Trevor countered, hands sliding down to the approximate area where pale nipples were concealed beneath layers of fabric. “I'll bet these look enticing just peeking out over the edge of a corset. Adrian can pick the colour of it since he has such a good eye for that.”
“There will be no need for that for I meant these legs were made for walking... In pants!” Joachim groaned, pushing them both away enough to point a finger out between them towards the growing crowd of curious onlookers. “This is what I was talking about, Bunny. Until you can learn how to control your libido and those pheromones, you're a walking orgy starter kit.”
“They can sit back there and watch.” Alucard growled, feeling the inklings of that possessive jealous streak begin to settle in the closer his fellow demon brethren intruded into their little private party for three.
“They are not going to be content just watching for much longer, and that is not their fault. It is your pet's, Kitten. He has no control!”
“You have no chill right now.” Trevor countered again, dismissing the threat of a growing crowd.
Not Alucard this time, however. The alarm bells were going off, overriding his hunger and hormones. He let Joachim down because there was something... Something he knew he was forgetting about the last time he'd been this consumed with lust and thirst. He'd hurt someone... Trevor said it was impossible, but this all felt too familiar. If there truly was something wrong with them and their gathered audience like Joachim kept trying to convince them of, and if he had hurt Trevor in this state in the past in spite how much they were in love... What could happen if someone who didn't love Trevor put their hands on him right now? Or Joachim? Maybe they truly were in danger..?”
“You know what, Bunny? If you agree to go back to the lab right now you can put me in whatever you find laying around, even your little gold panties. Come along!”
Watching the pair sprint off hand in hand, the Dhampyre turned about to face the dazed looking onlookers. Some were confused, while others clearly out of their minds. This... This wasn't normal. His mind had almost convinced him of that when the cloying tendrils of Trevor's scent carried on the warm breeze kicked up by street car's exhaust pulled him back under. His prey was escaping, but he knew exactly where to find them. The pursuit resumed and the unnaturally gathered group of demons were quickly forgotten.
When Joachim threw Trevor into the elevator door and slammed the gate shut, the pink-eyed quick-witted morsel had the audacity to huff a victorious laugh, falsely believing he'd spared both the Hunter and himself from Alucard's hunger.
Seeking safety in my lair, Joachim? Really?
No time was wasted following up the chute and when the metal box locked into place at the top entrance to his lab, Alucard burst through the floor panelling much to Trevor's delight and Joachim's groan about the costs to replace it.
“Here we are, safe and sound.” The Vampyre was telling Trevor with a strained smile. “Bunny, you are going to need to learn how to control these pheromones of yours or you'll get yourself and everyone in your immediate vicinity into trouble one of these days. But given you are in no state to heed my warnings, let's circle back to this later. For now you are home with your very persistent and rather angry looking lover. Happy Valentine's Day and have fun!”
“That's not fair, Joachim.” The Hunter protested in a sing-song way trying to reach for the nimble demon's arm. “You were just lamenting about how gruelling my conditions were, weren't you? The solution is at hand, my friend, and like you said, we're safe and sound here.”
Trevor's grip on the demon's hand was a perfect trap, ensuring Alucard could snatch the Vampyre up to his dismay and the Hunter's blatant delight. What begging would the Dhampyre do if only to drown in those pretty little rose petals pools that it almost hurt him to see apprehension and wariness swimming beneath their surfaces. Easily hoisting the captured body higher to inhale it's scent from the more intimate curve where neck met collar, the Dhampyre's voice rumbled lowly. “Have you always smelled this good?”
“No.” Joachim snapped back, a twinge of heat colouring the tips of his ears as well as his scent. “It's the Little One's fault. I don't want any part of this while you are both out of your minds. He's got you under his spell, and you Trevor under yours, and when you come to your better senses I am the one you are going to be angry with. So let me go.”
“Why would I be angry with you?” Inquiring between deep inhales, Alucard cast a glance over at the Hunter still holding the Vampyre's hand. Still watching them both with his lidded, yet approving gaze and a dangerous grin of his own. What wouldn't Alucard do to make that delightful little creature happy, fulfilling every and all desires it possessed? “What say you, Trevor? Should I be angry about something?”
The question drew Trevor to his side, who nestled into place to peer up at the trapped elder Moroi and whisper his reply. “You should treat him kindly, is what. It's plain he's so nervous about how you're going to react, Adrian. Can't you be gentler? He's sensitive, so you have to make him feel safe or he'll be frightened.”
“We are Moroi. Trevor. We're built tough.”
In response to his blatant disregard the Hunter swatted him easily out of the way. It seemed size and a lacking Force of Will had no bearing on Trevor Belmont's ability to manhandle either of the older demons in the end. There was one thing that the Hunter had yet to learn, however, that being no matter the time nor place, free access to supernatural powers or not... Joachim was fucking fast. A two thousand year old demon did not survive long enough to claim such an advanced age without knowing how to pick and choose their battles wisely. When running was an optimal strategy, Joachim never had an issue taking that option. This was evidently one of those situations. Before the Hunter could even register what was happening, the ancient Vampyre wrested free expertly and bolted for the torn open floor panelling of the elevator, vanishing down the shaft without even a single glance back in their direction.
“Goddamn he's fast.” Trevor half mused, half sighed. “Why doesn't he want to keep playing with us?” The cloying enrapturing perfume thickened considerably as the Hunter peered into the darkness of the blown open shaft, the city lights from below dancing along the elevator ceiling. When he finally turned towards Alucard, wolfish and hungry, Alucard met him halfway to carry the rest of the distance towards their shared bed. “I am a little disappointed, but not with you, Adrian. You performed so well tonight, my Prince. Both with the music and the hunt. You were powerful and claimed victory. As it's my fault our spoils of war got away let me make it up to you, okay?”
The flattery was going to all the right places, so Alucard leaned over the creature spread out amongst his bed sheets and allowed it to begin slowly undressing him. Teasing tapered fingers grazing all the right swatches of flesh, light scraping talons toying with the rest. He would do anything to capture and keep the attentions of such a lovely little treasure. Admiring and adoring. Making him feel seen and loved. “Your prince, you say?”
“Yes, Adrian. I didn't have a chance earlier to be your Prințesă, so let me make it up to you now.” The plea was accompanied by his precious one urging him down close, teeth nibbling and hands roaming. Lips closing over the soft pink peaks of his chest to suckle drew from out of him a long sigh of relief, the neglected buds finally lavished with attention after a particularly busy work week.
Urgency and edge fading slightly, a semblance of reason was once more within grasp.
“Trevor, I think there might be something wrong with this... thing that keeps happening. We're out of control, I believe. I am, at the very least.”
“Shh...” The Hunter eased him down onto his back, crawling lower between his partially splayed thighs and bending to swallow an arousal at full mast. The sensation caused him to arch his back as he made note of just how much Trevor had improved in this particular department since the first time he'd asked for this kind of attention. Months later he never had to ask, the offer given frequently with affection and enthusiasm. “You might be right.” Agreeing around coming up for air and teasing in creative different ways, the brunette conceded. “Your eyes were pink again, but so was Joachim's. You say you've never heard of a Moroi experiencing that kind of quirk, but it's clearly not just you that can change like that. It makes me wonder if it's me? Am I doing it?”
“You're definitely giving off a pheromone of some kind. A powerful one.” Alucard was moaning already, Trevor back at task, easing the hot throbbing flesh towards the back of his throat. The deepest Alucard had been taken in thus far. “Fuck, you're getting really good at this.”
“I just want to make you happy.” Trevor confessed sweetly, coming off him just long enough to do so. “When I see those pretty pink eyes, I can't think of anything else but that I need to make you happy. I want to give you what you want.”
“I have everything I want.”
“Not quite in the way you want them, however... How do you want me right now? I want to do whatever you'd like.”
It was an easy decision, so heady and dazed from the potent pheromones, he felt drunk and wholly subdued and submissive to his Prințesă's wiles. “Inside me. I want to feel you inside me, and I want you to hold me and look at me the whole time. Pay attention to me.”
Trevor sighed contently, climbing over him to reach into the bedside drawer before Alucard could stop him. “I need your fruity aspic.”
“Do it raw. Tonight I want to feel the burn. I want to feel marked by you.” He replied with a weak growl.
“What makes you think my cock wants to feel the burn?” Trevor scoffed, but kissed him while ruffling his hair and slipped into position between his now yawning thighs. “Don't even say it. No need to remind me I just said I want to make you happy.” There was a pause followed by a low hiss as the friction worked it's magic at least for Alucard's desires, but once the Hunter was slotted in and able to start moving, the conversation picked back up. “...That's why even though I could tell Joachim was afraid of the consequences and how you would react later, I am sorry I let my excitement get the best of me. I think I scared him off.”
“Trevor, you don't recall, but this isn't the first time that's happened with Joachim either. This wasn't just a one-off instance that day at the beach.” Either it was pheromones or the increasingly slick glide taking place in and out of his body, take your pick. Honesty was in the air tonight as surely as ramped up lust. “Everything and everyone else seems to be little more than a blur when I am like this except you... And twice now, with him. Is that because he was also under the spell? I keep trying to puzzle this out but it's so hard under the influence. This might be the most cognizant and eloquent I've been while caught up like this.”
“Perhaps because you were so close this time?” Trevor suggested cryptically. “Eye on the prize and all.”
“I don't... Understand... Fuck. Right... yes. There.” Hips hoisted slightly and canted, Trevor's aim was precise and consistent, pulling ragged hiss after moan from out the very depths of his being.
“I'll help you get what you want, Adrian.” The Hunter offered, thrusting deeply into his wanting body. “We won't be denied anything so long as we pursue it as a united force.”
Body sensitivity shooting through the roof, Alucard wrestled with a torrent of vague powerful emotions bubbling up from the cracks in his being. Pleasure and panic battling for supremacy, he repeated himself both confused and while coming apart. “I have everything I could ever want.”
Only to have the Hunter reiterate back. “Not quite in the way you want, my Prince, but there's no need to worry. Tomorrow with clearer heads we'll rework our approach and see about catching and taming us the other princess. She's terribly nervous and flighty, so we really need to take a gentler approach. She may need a lot of reassurances and a light touch, but I've have a lot of experience breaking in a horse. Once I have her eating out of my hand, we'll try having you feed her as well, okay?”
I am feeling... Overly emotional right now. Like I am losing myself.
It was true. Trevor's words were making as much sense as they were not. The pressure was building in his gut, but then so was that damnable out of nowhere anxiety alongside flashes of a terrible, wicked crime. That pretty face above him, slack and cold. “I hurt you, Trevor. I hurt you, but I couldn't help myself...” Phantom blood and honey now on his tongue, with perfect clarity in the fog he recalled drinking Trevor dry while in this current state they found themselves in. Trevor hadn't done a thing to stop him either. This was dangerous. Joachim was right.
“Shh, my Prince.” The Hunter soothed effortlessly. “Look, I'm right here and you'll agree I am in perfect health?” Punctuated with a slow, deep thrust, the brunette placed Alucard's hands along his hips until the Dhampyre held them on his own. He sighed a short time later when Alucard withdrew and twisted his torso to the side, staring at the expanse of sanguine sheets and little else. “I get it, Adrian, I really do.” Trevor spoke as if he were granting some kind of special permission, reaching out to drag a nearby pillow close and hand it over to the confused Moroi before providing the explanation that supposedly would clear things up. “You wish someone was right there to hold onto and sooth you while I fuck you. I do too. It would be a sight to watch you cling desperately to your comfort while I enjoy ruining you for a night. I'll comfort you too when I am finished, but it would have been lovely for someone to have treasured you the whole way through, you'll agree? Soon, Adrian.”
It's too much... Too overwhelming. Alucard tossed his head about and hugged the pillow close, burying his face in it. The scent, the emotions, the creeping dread that he would lose himself again and do an unspeakable thing all warred with his desire to keep his legs apart and welcome the pleasure and attention he so craved from the Hunter. He came thunderously, but all the nebulous clouds remained. Hold me please. I need to be held.
Trevor did then. Still moving his hips, eking out pleasure to build into another fire between them, the Hunter's embrace was loving and patient. The vague uneasiness subsided after a time and Alucard rolled over onto his hands and knees to allow his lover better access to fuck him harder. Eager and ready for whatever form of affection his precious Prințesă' would gift him. Face shoved down into the mattress by a hand between his shoulder blades followed by a loving moment to card through his hair, between his moans the Dhampyre again looked over to the empty space off-side, wondering idly about the last remaining question rattling around his lust-addled mind.
Could this private moment really be better than it already was? Would he truly enjoy being simultaneously treasured while he was exquisitely tortured? Devotion, adoration and attention were without doubt the holy trinity that he craved, and Trevor always gave him ample of each. So then why now all of a sudden..?
...Do I really wish there was someone else taking up that empty space?
Notes:
Enjoy your fluffy vacation. Bits and pieces of the plot are coming back to ruin your nerves.
I'm joking, of course.
Or am I?
Chapter 64: Grandmother
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
February 15th 2038 ~ Baljhet Mountains ~ Lost Commune
I do not care to move for another hundred years right now...
However much the body dost protest, Monday morning's alarm chimed away, no different than any other workday. Finding himself far more lethargic than usual, Alucard turned it off with far less violence than what was deeply internalized against the chirpy bastard and rolled over onto his stomach, arm stretching out to fall on nothing but cold empty sheets. A long sigh was muffled by his pillow. Of course Trevor was already dressed and upstairs, as Alucard's work schedule and noisy alarm had the Hunter's circadian rhythm trained Monday through Friday to avoid being so rudely awakened by a godawful blaring racket. It was safe to say they both preferred lazy Sunday mornings where Alucard would have found a warm plaint body to drag back close and a sweet smelling curve of neck to bury into. Instead he had a ball of sheets in his grip which pulling them closer only deepened the vague unsettled feeling in his guts.
Trevor's sweat, sweet like sugar. The faint scent of earth windswept by the skies. Candlelight, pyrotechnics, polished wood of a concert piano, and dust from the city streets.
All these notes were found within the musk of their love-making, long settled over the linens that had cushioned against enthusiasm. The memory still an imprecise haze or not, the mixed bouquet of scents were having an arousing effect on the Moroi man who truly ought to have already climbed out of bed and been on his way to a shower by this point. Which while not ideal, could be accommodated if he was efficient. Reaching blind yet guided by muscle memory and a tendency to return certain items to set places, Alucard found a smaller tube of water-based lubricant and a suitably Trevor sized toy and got to work. The way his body opened with minimal effort and that feeling of finally scratching a persistent itch was in itself, telling.
I must have just gotten railed all night.
It was an amusing self-realization, and one that brought him more mirth once he rolled over onto his back once more and could see the corroborating evidence. The outsides of his hips and thighs still bore red circular fingerprints whilst the insides sported a few bruised love-bites. The light touch he used to pass a hand over his chest pulled out a sound caught between gasp and moan given the red and sensitive state his tortured nipples had been left in. They too, along with what he could glimpse of his right shoulder and collarbone, as well the wrist he was using to work the soft vibe all marred with the same hickeys and occasional teeth marks as his poor thighs were. The one on his shoulder had broken skin. That made him laugh, as he had noticed the Hunter biting him back of late, but this was the first time the brunette had left a brand of his own Alucard could find come the morning light.
I hope it scars.
Pain wasn't exactly to the Dhampyre's tastes, his interests falling far more into tender, intense intimacy and sensuality... But if Trevor was going to be the one to claw and bite at him, Alucard found he could welcome that bit of the Hunter's bedroom tantrums. Recompense owed for his own persistent teasing of the steel jewel-eyed beauty. For his need to have Trevor's attention and affection always directed his way.
Right, of course. Theses scents... Yesterday was the Valentine's Day show. I agreed to help the production as the pianist and afterwards I played Trevor his piece in candlelight.
The ball of sheets he pulled back to inhale confirmed and wrangled the floating memories into a more solid picture in his mind. Breathless and in awe of the performance, Trevor, garbed in black and gold wrapped himself around a taller, more slender body, elegant in black as well, complimented by a vest and tie in a choice shade of royal indigo. Steel and mercury pools invited Alucard to drown in their depths... But he could not remember what happened once he finished playing Joachim's piece. Not a damn thing after he'd asked if the pair had liked the music, considering it his greatest work to date. Those twinned expressions of reverence however were clear as day. Two pretty faces with all their combined attentions and affections pouring out on offer for the Dhampyre. Alucard was in that moment their whole world, and the world was exactly what he would give such an adoring complimentary set. His precious pretty Prințesă and his... his...
The shuddering climax stole the tail end of his thought, but not the image of those matching, adoring expressions.
Alucard shot up from the bed with the evidence of his questionable activity both gripped in hand and splayed across his belly. Unsteady legs found their strength in the steps it took to makes it the short distance to the shower, where he washed away the previous night and this morning's dalliances, dropping the cleaned toy back in it's drawer without ceremony, and dressing for the day with even less notice. Slipping into Ambassador Țepeș' role was routine and robotic, a testament to the efficiency of automation. Niggling, troublesome little arousal breaching his disguise notwithstanding.
“He is passably handsome at best. Like a million other men.” Alucard told the flawless image in the mirror meeting his gaze, as Trevor had been sure not to leave marks around his neck where someone might notice.
Wait...
Stepping closer to his reflection confirmed there was indeed a soft sort of rosy glow to his complexion. Perhaps a lingering effect from the hot shower, although that vague unsettled feeling in his gut refuted the easy explanation. Alucard wasn't too happy with the result. His ageless, enigmatic mask suited his work and served him well when dealing with dignitaries. This faint blush was far too humanizing. Gave the look of a man barely over twenty-five at best. Practically a boy. It would fade by the time he reached the Embassy though, he was certain of it.
Having wasted time enough that he'd likely have to toss back his coffee before heading out rather than savour it over the midday news, Alucard made his way up the lift and stepped out into the cacophonous atmosphere comprised of Leila's playlist of hippy folk tunes and love ballads, the clinking and swishing of dishes being hand washed, and an animated three-way discussion about some sort of online RPG of which Leila and Joachim seemed keen on attempting to convince Trevor to try.
In the living room currently was a rotating mess of cables, adapters and antiquated consoles as the pair had begun their calculated conversion by dusting off a Vectrex from who knew where, followed by one of the Atari systems. Alucard could never tell which one was which, and for the longest time he'd annoyed and embarrassed Leila by simply referring to everything as a 'Nintendo'. Which he only reliably recognized because the Super Nintendo had Super Street Fighter II and Super Mario Kart, and Alucard was undeniably the household's reigning champ of both. Kind of suspicious how that system never seemed to find it's way out of storage these days...
Amused all the same, Alucard breezed by Trevor at the table, mending a fancy-looking black dress shirt with needle and thread while he was listening to the sales pitch about how an RPG was an interactive storybook and Trevor loved stories so he would like plating it, gathering chestnut hair to give a playful little shake with one hand as he did. He was finding himself in such a good mood he did the same to Leila's white-blonde without thinking, only realizing he'd almost torpedoed the entirety of their collective AM all together as he stepped into the kitchen and noticed the temporary pause in the discussion, right as the tension in Joachim's silver eyes spread to his posture. But it was over in a handful of seconds, Leila having given his lapse of judgment a pass.
The Vampyre turned around to fetch him a cup of coffee, tossing the dish towel he'd been using aside to do so. The towel landed on the counter not too far from a folded up pile consisting of an exquisite indigo vest and matching tie. Alucard stared at the neat, tidy pile of clothing next to the haphazard dish towel and back towards Trevor dutifully stitching up a tear in the sleeve of an understated yet still ornate dress shirt. From Trevor's easy smile and skilled, quick little fingers back to the Vampyre who was now presenting him with a mug of coffee, sugar and cream ratio perfectly to his liking. Still wearing the same dress pants from last night but unusually under-dressed otherwise, Joachim's numerous layers were gone save a black undershirt that fit like a second skin. This left the rare glimpse of smooth unblemished alabaster arms on display, toned but nowhere close to what would be described as muscular, the elder demon's decently broad shoulders always putting in the bulk of legwork needed to stave off any allegations of being considered a waif. Alucard's eyes were drawn to the equally rare – outside a sauna escapade – flash of defined collarbones, and from there up a long neck to an attractive jawline. Yellow irises caught the moment perfect white teeth briefly sucked in and chewed a bloodless lower lip, leaving the double-lobed pillow the softest hue of pink after the abuse. Alucard fixed the crease in the middle of it in his sights. That little cleft a feature of the Vampyre's that Trevor was so captivated by and swore elevated the eldest demon's features.
Okay, it may be a little Angelina Jolie. A little Jude Law.
“...to be late.”
Alucard came to his senses as the mug was pushed closer into his hands. Joachim was studying him quietly, lips parted as he repeated again that Alucard was going to be late leaving their home if he didn't kick it into gear.
“You're right.” He agreed, accepting his drink and watching the Vampyre resume drying the dishes.
We have a dishwasher for a reason, so why do you keep hand-washing them? Perhaps Joachim enjoyed washing up, but Alucard had forked out over three hundred and fifty dollars back in 1910 – an exorbitant amount of money at the time – and continued to do so as newer more efficient models came out, even paying to import them into Romania from other countries. All because it bothered him that nearly every private discussion they'd had during quiet moments had been set to the sound of the other man washing dishes. It was the same reason they'd been the first household to have a washing machine, a dryer, a vacuum, you name it. Chores needed to be done just as Alucard's work needed and he could not be in two places at once. Joachim never complained assuming the responsibilities of menial tasks, but that didn't mean they had to take up so much of the Vampyre's time. That's why they had the gold standard of household appliances and devices... It was a small way he could contribute when time was in short supply. At least Trevor's here and seemingly happy to give you a hand.
“I'm going to go find you my lore book and manuals so you can pick a character that would work with ours, Trevor. Misha and Anastasia play too.” Leila announced with a cheery grin, concluding the conversation as she pushed away from the table leaving her discarded half-finished smoothie glass in her wake for her 'Daddy' to clean up after. As if she were still a small child.
Having already avoided a fight thus far, Alucard swallowed down his criticism while he watched her shut herself in her bedroom, muffling the folk music, before he threw back his coffee and collected her cup for her, rinsing it and his mug before placing both in the neglected dishwasher. He pointedly ignored Joachim's outstretched hand because the demon had just washed dishes. He didn't need to wash more of them. That was how he noticed the two jewel-coloured folders containing sheet music sitting on the other end of their counter, burning away yet more of the fog from the night prior.
Why were the folders on the counter like that? Why was Joachim still in last night's attire? Why was Trevor fixing the shirt he'd worn? The more he pulled at the loose threads the more the mystery unravelled in real time. Alucard had asked the pair of faces, one his beautiful bride-to-be, the other his passably handsome best friend and partner if they had liked his music. They had, so much that the intimate concert turned into a playful game. No, it would be better said an enticing game. One of cat and mice. They'd abandoned the candlelight and the music sheets in lieu of play.
When Joachim attempted to squeeze by intent on returning to Trevor at the table, Alucard stopped him. Chasing the ghosts of the night prior he pulled the Vampyre to him, just like earlier at he concert hall. Again, repeating actions already committed a vague night ago, the Dhampyre leaned forward and inhaled what he considered the scent of home, however it was currently evolving. Sweetened earth windswept by sky. Warm spices. The notes of their housemates clinging to a wild blue riverside. No matter the time nor place, that scent of rushing water had grown and become the singular scent of where Alucard belonged. The point he always returned to. What other scents clung this morning was telling a story, corroborating the one left on Trevor's sheets and more. Candlelight, aged wood, wax, smoke, city dust and stone.
“We only just taught our Little One how rude this is, Kitten.” The Vampyre's breezy chastening belay the tense line his body was pressed against Alucard's.
Lifting his head from a neck to bury into the hair above a pointed ear, Alucard shot Trevor a glance. The Hunter's hands were frozen mid-mend, blue-grey eyes shining with focus and interest. “This is our home.” Alucard reasoned in a low, even tone. What they were doing was permissible between those with close relations in private spaces, and Alucard was fairly convinced his inkling was on the mark. “You never came home last night, Joachim. Where were you?”
Answering levelly, the Vampyre's words brought yet more clarity to Alucard's spotty recollection. “I returned to the concert hall to clean up the candles, flowers and wine we left. The melted wax nearly started a fire, so you can thank me for preventing the building from burning down. I also returned Bunny the gift he misplaced.”
That was correct. Their game of cat and mice had taken them out into the streets. Joachim smelled more of dust and stone and city air because Alucard remembered pouncing on him. Pinning him. He'd caught his better fair and square, and Trevor had been delighted by the outcome. Trevor who... Had smelled good. So terribly good. Just like before. The day they went to the beach and the his Prințesă first laid eyes on the ocean. When they made the bed together for the first time like a proper couple. When he... When he'd lost control and hurt Trevor. Also the same night he'd shamefully thrown himself at the familiar handsome stranger... Who in actuality had been Joachim. Who is passably handsome at best. He reminded himself. Who, passably handsome or not, had been causing Alucard to feel something not unlike an electric current running through his veins now and again whenever they touched of late. Like what was happening right now. The Vampyre must be feeling it as well, as they always seemed to find themselves exchanging looks once the low buzz burned through them both.
“You came back to the lab with us, but you left.” Alucard stated out loud and mostly for himself. It put the final pieces of the puzzle into place as he did so. “You tore your shirt jumping down the hole that I made, and that I now need to fix in the other lift.” Certain of his recall now, Alucard caught a pointed ear between his fingers and plied gently to start, before sliding his thumb down the crease of skin connecting the appendage to the demon's head, drawing out a distinct noise Joachim was not quite quick enough to entirely muffle. That cinched it. Trevor was standing, needle and thread discarded, watching him for his reaction with what Alucard couldn't help but feel was a hopeful, if cautious look. “Trevor Belmont, it's happened again. You put out that sex on a silver platter scent and we lost control.”
“I am not doing anything of the sort on purpose!” The Hunter insisted. “And for the last time, it only happens after your eyes turn that pretty pink colour. How are you so sure it's my doing?”
“You're a Lilin, Trevor. A pheromone demon. The only pheromones Vampyres have are the ones parents begin to produce to sooth their own offspring.”
“Joachim looked the same, Adrian. His eyes were that colour too. They changed just like yours as you two were staring into eachothers and it was so mesmerizing that I... I felt drunk. I couldn't have been with such a high tolerance on a glass and a half, not unless the wine was spiked.”
Between his plying grip was a now crimson point, spreading from tip to root, and now even starting to heat up defined cheekbones. Not crimson across the Vampyre's visage however, but instead that soft pink his chewed indented lower lip had turned. The lip Trevor's eyes were currently focused upon, as Joachim was now gnawing it once again. Mercury and Steel searched one another out, their aura's colliding and coiling.
Once they were together, Trevor's face was crestfallen momentarily before he closed the distance in a gentle attempt to separate them. “Maybe you could let him--”
“Joachim did I lick your ear last night?” He asked point blank, cutting Trevor off.
The Vampyre's stiffened even more in his grip, but answered reticently. “...Amongst other things.”
“Did you like it? Because my memory is trying to build a strong case for me to believe that you liked it when I was licking your ear.”
“I...” The Vampyre faltered. “...insist that you leave for work. You'll be late, and you have a meeting this morning.”
“You don't think I should stay so we could talk about this instead? This seems like a little bit of a big deal. Marcella can reschedule.”
“No, she can't.” Joachim insisted. “We found someone whose been in contact with Alpha Rhysand recently, and they were hard to convince as is to come forward and speak with you.”
Shit.
Talk about being stuck between warring desires. There certainly was a lot that needed to be examined with what had occurred the night previously, but Joachim was correct. Alpha Rhysand was an interest to the Church whom Eliza had brought up in conjoint with her questions about the coven of murderers, the Lilû and some self-appointed shaman named Elder Erwin. Rhysand was a tribe Alpha and dead-set against any compromise of what Rhysand and his ilk considered the only pure way of life for Man Beasts. Beastmen, as they still preferred to be called. If even a crumb of knowledge could be gleaned from this witness that would help solve the remaining mysteries about Trevor's captivity then Alucard had no choice but to pursue it. Wants and needs always weighed against too little time.
He let Joachim go free without further protest, noting how Trevor welcomed the demon to him and then placed himself between them like a shield. For a moment the anger and jealousy he'd felt months ago nearly returned in full force before it died out. Slain by rational thinking and a more mature understanding... That the elder demon was afraid of how Alucard would react. Trevor was connected to him. Even if Joachim's face was a stone mask, Trevor felt his apprehensions so of course Trevor would defend and protect him. They cared for one another.
“You're right, I shouldn't keep this person waiting then.” The Dhampyre agreed as calmly as he was capable of. Straightening his jacket and tie, he paused long enough to place a soft kiss on Trevor's cheek. “Behave and... Let's talk about this later. Please.”
“Sure.” Trevor nodded softly, even standing down when he reached around and over the shorter man to cup the wary – if Trevor's proxy expression was true – Vampyre's face as well.
“I am not angry or upset, all right.” He promised the demon. “I would just like to discuss some unspoken changes I believe we all need to sort out together. Is that all right?”
“As you wish.” Permission granted, Joachim stepped around Trevor's side so that he was no longer cowering behind five-foot nothing and face the Dhampyre head on. “Fly fast, Kitten. You're officially late.”
Alucard had little choice but to leave it at that. Time was always is such painfully short supply.
*****
“That wasn't so bad.” Trevor concluded a drawn out moment after the front door had shut behind Adrian. It seemed his partner in petty mischief of late was still left unconvinced turmoil and strife was not on the dinner menu for later, however. “I am sorry, by the way. Even if I wasn't doing it by choice, I put you in an awkward and uncomfortable place regardless.”
“After I saved the concert hall from burning down, I asked around on your behalf regarding pheromones. It turns out Leila's friend Misha is willing to discreetly speak with you about your little problem and see if she can perhaps help you gain some control, or at the very least understand what triggers it. Clearly it's not simply arousal or you'd have already fumigated this house given your unchecked libido.”
“I am a healthy, virile adult.” Trevor bit back, but stopped himself. Joachim was just doing what he did best; Be dependable. Of use. The demon was fulfilled to be of service even – as Trevor had felt live through their connection – when performing a simple act like preparing Adrian his morning coffee. “Thank you for asking, it's appreciated... Misha is a Succubi. We're like cousins, as far as demons go, right?”
“You share a food source, Bunny. You'd have wiped out the competition in the wild. But since we're civilized here... Yes. You could be considered cousins of a sort.”
“You're not going to talk to me about what happened until Adrian makes you, huh?”
That brought the playful grin back to Joachim's face and released the nervous energy in his aura. “That's correct, Bunny. We are as one so often these days. I already know your desires, and you mine. What, if anything, comes of this all hinges on your bridegroom, so we shall have to wait for him.” Changing the subject effortlessly, the Vampyre retrieved his freshly mended shirt and examined Trevor's handiwork with a satisfied noise before he gathered the remaining vest and tie. “Such good work, Bunny. You've incorporated the repair of the tear into the existing stitch-work pattern flawlessly. Allow me a moment to hang most of these back up and then I dare say we might as well get to the main attraction of the day. We'll see about putting your room back together once we are finished if there is time or desire. The paint should be dry by now.” When Trevor did not immediately move to follow after, the silver haired demon cast a rather fond look over his shoulder and bid him once more. “Come along, my wannabe Co-Wife.”
What a tease. Without any other recourse, Trevor found he couldn't help but laugh. Joachim was right insofar as they were indeed at a standstill until their oblivious Dhampyre caught up, but there were still things Trevor wanted to know and to ask. How someone who was so effortlessly honest about his desires and intentions with Trevor and from what he'd witnessed, seemingly every other demon in the Commune, could hide those from the person he loved the most was a complete mystery to the former Hunter. The why even more so.
Adrian's propensity to hyper-fixate and ignore everything else did not prevent him from acknowledging the things you threw right in his face. This whole rift between the pair of Moroi seemed silly and easy to solve from an outsider's perspective. Especially since it was so obvious Adrian loved Joachim back. More than the familial fashion he already admitted and was aware of, and further still than that. Honestly, Trevor had ears; He'd heard the music Adrian's soul had sung for a six hundred year love affair. Even that pitifully twisted shape he'd perceived laying at Joachim's core was still standing after centuries of neglect. Whatever Adrian had first forged there between them had been strong enough to survive this long...
Where does that leave a superfluous wretch like you, Trevor Belmont? Why would anyone need or want you?
That nasty little inner critic of his was so fast to pounce on any opening that would ruin his day. Be that as it may, connected as he was to the Vampyre who had only just vanished up the stairs, the voice and it's taunts were smothered by Joachim's aura. Metaphysical hands pressing down on the spiralling torrent of negative emotions until they were small and manageable for him once more. It was something the Vampyre was trying to do less and less for him as some sort of 'exposure therapy' he called it. Leila had used that term before as well. The purpose was to teach Trevor to regulate his own anxieties, which he tried to do following Leila's advice to keep breathing... But when it was too much and Joachim was around, Trevor appreciated the quiet, nonjudgmental helping hand in this capacity too.
I am loved. Adrian and I made a promise that regardless of what comes our way, we'll handle it together no matter what, and I promised Joachim I would still call him my friend. So where that leaves me is possibly in the lofty position of having not one, but two devoted partners. One day it's possible no matter which way I turn, someone will be there wanting to spoil me rotten and I just might let them! The former Hunter affirmed rather boldly for a man fighting to believe his own hype. Plus, when they finally hop to getting it on with one another it's going to be so hot, and I want a front row seat.
Okay, that last one was a sure bet. There was a disturbingly large portion of his shower time taken up by indulging in that fantasy...
Joachim's head popped back into view from around the hallway atop the stairs only to stress one final time. “That libido, it's unchecked, Bunny.”
“Healthy adult!” Trevor shouted back, but did chase the bratty demon through his freezing cold gifted bedroom, their newly shared posh bathroom and through the threshold of that secret little room at opposite his own doorway.
It had been accurate to assume the mystery door lead to the ancient Moroi's private chambers as Trevor now found himself in a luxurious and plush space fit for a Crown Prince. Having been raised with simple and practical means did in no way mean Trevor Belmont could not recognize a hand-woven Turkish rug when his bare foot stepped on one. Every piece of dark wood furniture appeared hand-carved, fine filigree delicately accenting while only the lushest fabrics had been used in the upholstery. An entire wall was devoted to a series of curio cabinets framing yet another door, and much of the remaining three walls space was devoted to stunning tapestries, ancient maps of places that likely no longer existed, and a mix of dried, pinned butterflies and pressed flowers. The bed was tall and canopied, tied back to each of the four posts at current. The mystery of the huge circular window Trevor had wondered about when staring back at the house from the sauna was solved, as he now knew it was part of the northern wall of Joachim's bedroom. Before the panes of stained glass was a stately chaise and side table, stack of books and those awful smelling herbs the demons both smoked, but Joachim seemed particularly fond of, waiting for their owner to make use of. The decor of course was hued in all those midnight colours the Vampyre favoured, hints of purple here and there placed prominently. As if each of the items belonging to that shade had been gifts he wanted to display proudly.
Adrian had said he'd never set foot in this space before.
He is missing out. Trevor refrained from whistling, but did think that perhaps his Dhampyre could learn a thing or two from taking a look around inside. The stark utilitarian space Adrian occupied felt so plain and drab. Too harsh. Adrian deserved a cozy atmosphere to wind down in too...
Growing braver, Trevor padded softly deeper inside and found the older man finishing off a steam clean his vest and hanging it back up inside a closet. A closet that one could walk into. Actually, two people could walk into it. So Trevor did and immediately could not help marvelling at the quality of the suits and garments contained within, even if the lion's share of the space was bare. The Vampyre was clearly a quality over quantity type of man, but Trevor had never seen him don the majority of even what was in this modest curated collection.
“You and Adrian are made for eachother.” The retired Hunter surmised, startling the Vampyre. “Both of you have such amazing wardrobes that you keep locked up while wearing the same damn things day in and day out. Would it kill you to bust some of these out and let them see daylight?”
“Most of these are gifts, actually.” Joachim confessed, using his own sock covered toes to knock a dresser just below some shoe shelves and a mirror. “This is where I usually pull from.”
“Oh let's see... White undershirts, Black undershirts. White tee-shirts. Black tee-shirts. White long-sleeved shirts. Black long sleeved shirts. Black jeans. More black pants of the non-denim variety, just to spice it up I see. Socks. All white except this one black pair. Oh, a blue sweater. This Surely must have gotten lost on it's way home to the closet belonging to someone else.”
“Is it a habit of yours to rifle through the belongings of others, Little One?”
“It is, actually. I can't abide an unsolved mystery.” Pulling open the final small square drawer revealed the perfect set of articles to make his day. There were blacks, blues and various hues of both to choose from, but Trevor fished out the three outliers and dangled them between index and middle finger, openly admiring the splash of vibrancy in an otherwise muted collection. “Ah, here's where you like to accessorize with colour. I think this one is called Magenta, and this one Orchid... I'm not sure I've seen this colour before, though. What is this?”
“Is it also a habit of yours when rifling through the belonging of others to also molest their undergarments, Bunny?”
“Only when I am interested in the person to such a degree and fashion as to imagine them in their undergarments, Joachim. What's this delicate little colour called? Help a guy out, there is still so much I have yet to learn about the English language.”
“Why do you keep using the word 'delicate' in reference to me or my possessions of late, Trevor Belmont?”
In response to this question, Trevor placed all but the unknown coloured undergarments down so that he could better hold up the light shade of fabric. It was little more than a narrow rectangle and the brunette didn't care how stretchy it felt between his hands, he refused to believe such a slim strip of cloth could cover anyone's ass, let alone the one right in front of him he was trying to picture wearing such a thing. It was too... shapely. “This hardly looks like it's large enough to serve as a dinner napkin, to start.”
A sharp tsk and even a complimentary eyeroll later, Joachim was refolding the abandoned magenta and orchid versions to slide back inside, waiting with a flat, unamused look for Trevor to make a small show of folding the pair he still had in hand as he'd seen the Vampyre the others and present it with a wicked grin. “Periwinkle.”
“What?”
“The colour. It's called periwinkle. And no, I do not wear these outside of laundry days. Each came as the odd one out part of separate three-packs. This cut and style is called a 'hipster' I believe. Because the band sits right at your hipbones. I do not enjoy swimming in regular boxers. Nor do I enjoy wearing women's panties like you. I apologize, I meant micro-briefs. It's so hard to distinguish between the two, you see.”
“No apologies necessary.” Trevor promised the elder demon. “I have been known to wear both. And yes, I do in fact look great in either.”
“I did not ask.”
“You didn't have to.” Trevor purred and sort of surprised himself at the same time. Some of Adrian's swagger must have rubbed off on him because he wasn't aware he had that level confidence. “If you don't like the colour, can I have that one?”
“Why would you want a used pair of my undergarments, Trevor?”
“They're clean to start so don't give me that look; It's not that weird. They're also a style I've yet to try, and a colour I did not know existed until right now. Maybe I'll like them and we can be hipster twins.”
“Remember that you are... Quirky. Not weird.” The Vampyre sighed and handed over the soft shade in an even softer strip of fabric. “May they serve you well on your future endeavours. Now get out of my room and dress yourself suitably. We are going to visit a woman whom you will pay utmost respect. Your casual tone will be left at the door as will your foul language. I will not forgive misbehaviour on this outing.”
Even through their comfy connection the warning was a harsh about-face to their general playfulness. Falling in line with the sudden severity, Trevor dialed his act back and asked simply. “Who are we going to see?”
“Grandmother.” The Vampyre replied simply. “She is not usually awake for great lengths of time during the wintry season of year, but she seems to have deemed meeting with you as something worth straining herself over. So you will go to answer her summons and bear forthright in your mind at all times that Grandmother is making an allowance on your behalf to aid you.”
Joachim's Grandmother... This so-called Great Mother to everyone else who lives here. They all speak of her with reverence, and she seems exempt from the ongoing pecking order between the demons here. No one questions her authority. Trevor nodded sombrely and left to comply, dressing modestly and in all earthen colours, unfamiliar with what kind of entity this Great Mother was and therefor unable to know how she perceived the world at large. Minotaurs were agitated by vibrancy as one example, so better to be safe. Whatever form of life this Great Mother ends up being, Adrian mentioned that she may be able to tell me what this seal on the back of my skull is. She may even know about the black parasite growing on my back and if there is some way to remove it.
The brunette met the silver-haired demon out in the hallway and followed him back down to the main floor where they gathered their coats and boots against the oppressive February onslaught. Because the snowfall had been relentless the past six days and the vehicle with the giant shovel had chosen that exact time to break down, the pathway up their little mountain was nigh-impossible to traverse unless there were a pair or two of Grant's snowshoes stashed somewhere back in Adrian's home. This meant Trevor had little choice outside of breaking trail through waist high snow to make it down into town than to agree to Joachim's obvious superior solution. Gathered up like a blushing new bride, the pair levitated to be on their way. At least the circumstance provided Trevor the opportunity to study this section of the village from on high, just below the forest canopy. The lights were all soft blues and yellows but as Trevor understood it, some magickal field obscured the lamplight, electric or witch-fire sourced, from escaping their safe enclosure.
Gliding past the town hall, village fountain, and open-air market, Joachim's path took them directly towards a thick snarl of ancient petrified wood, overgrown with yet more mature trees and brush. Deafening creaks and snaps as the entrance pulled itself open seemingly by magick made the former Hunter question if he'd have felt the movement beneath his feet had they been on solid ground. The yawning chasm open to them looked to contain nothing more than moonless night, but at Joachim's insistence, Trevor was placed gently on a snow free stone path and urged to step into the great unknown. So he did, and found himself briefly recalling the long narrow tunnel in Lupu to Adrian's childhood home before he came out the other side of this one equally in awe of a paradoxical, impossible springtime. The only difference being that time was certainly not frozen in this sacred space.
“Did Adrian ever show you his hometown?” Trevor whispered, afraid his voice would upset the serene balance.
“...Ages after Dracula's spell-work had fallen through. The little white and yellow house had been long ransacked. There wasn't much left to see let alone salvage.” Came the whispered reply back. “Oddly enough, it was discovering a rotten scrap of fur and wool he found in disintegrating bed sheets that upset him the most about that return... Some beloved childhood toy, I believe he said.”
Trevor paused for only a moment, the name coming to his lips easily if bittersweet. “Medeina. He said she was a Wolf Queen, but she looked like a fluffy old dog to me.”
“Kitten did say Grandmother's enclave reminded him of home...”
“This is beautiful, Joachim, truly.” His eyes kept drawing themselves towards the gentle water wheel attached to a dwelling straight out of fantasy. It was as if the very earth itself had shaped itself into a natural home, all slopes and curves with nary a sharp angle to be found. Moss, stones, grasses, and more. And the flowers... Oh, the flowers damn near made him weep at the sight. “These dancing lights in the air... They're Fae folk. Look, these mushrooms... Do they always glow like that?”
“If time allows and Grandmother permits it, you can explore afterwards. I may even let you take a nap under my favourite tree.” Tapered fingers guided Trevor's gaze towards a large willow of unknown origins. Every vine was full to bursting with these tiny cup-shaped lavender flowers and true enough, Trevor could see the grass before it was flattened compared to the surrounding area. Someone had a habit of laying down under that tree, and Trevor had a strong suspicion he knew exactly who that was. “Follow along now and-”
“Mind my manners and my language, yes. Understood.”
Joachim let him go with that and lead the brunette to a mossy wall that soon shifted into an opening, welcoming them into a warm yet dimly lit dwelling. As with the outside, the entirety of the interior too seemed sculpted out of the very soil and foliage. Carpets of a strange multicoloured furry moss he'd never seen before now and decor exotic plant species of all kinds growing out of the floors and walls all around. The space was dome shaped, with other smaller domes visible through rounded doorways, with the largest dome consisting of a sunken fire pit and a dizzying array of stone cauldrons and alchemical wonders. The thick air was pungent and green. Mixed herbs, poultices and potions so sharp, he could almost taste them with each inhale. There was ancient magick here. Primal and feminine. Fitting of the large enigmatic being before him whose skin, eyes and hair all seemed to be formed of hewn stone and quartz. Were it not for her multi-pocketed robe defining the separation of the Great Mother and her stone rocking chair, one could have believed she too was formed out of the very ground her home had bloomed. Perhaps she was.
This is who taught Joachim how to channel the energy Sypha could wield. There could be no doubt, given the way his Belmont blood prickled against her aura. This entity fit all fables of Maid, Mother and Crone depending on how her head tilt and the firelight reflected off her glittering minerals. She taught him all those charms and wards that he's been trying to teach me.
The Great Mother had attendants as Trevor found out once startled by the subdued Arcanists offering to take his coat wordlessly and pointing to where her could leave is wet boots. Joachim, a frequent guest by the looks of things, had already divested and ducked under the squat door frame Trevor was having a very hard time believing the giant stone Crone in her chair could ever pass through. Perhaps the way the front door had shifted to invite them inside, so too could this opening shift to her will. Anything was possible and Trevor Belmont had seen far stranger things. Bowing his head politely and more importantly silently in thanks to the witches for their direction, the retired Hunter couldn't help but take notice how lightly Joachim had come to the Great Mother's side. He couldn't quite call it a skip or rush or anything brash like that, but there had been a bit of bounce to the Vampyre's step. A touch of excitement, maybe?
Oh. Trevor made an effort not to raise his eyebrows at the scene playing out right then. At this Great Mother's beckoning the ancient demon knelt alongside her so that she could basically pet him, ruffling hair affectionately like Trevor had done to his own sons in playful carefree moments. This grandson is just happy to visit his grandmother, and she all too happy to receive his company. That's actually... Very sweet. I've always wondered what it's like to have a living grandparent. They were exchanging words in a language that Trevor had heard Adrian speak on rare occasion. The one that made him believe if heavenly bodies had invented their own tongue, then surely it was what was being spoken right here and now. There wasn't too long a moment allotted to enjoy the flowy notes before the brunette was being summoned to follow on the Vampyre's heels. That's my cue then... Polite, quiet, and respectable, Trevor. This could be your future Grandmother-in-Law, after all. Better make the best impression.
The Great Mother's voice was akin to curled dry leaves being dragged across crumbling cobblestone by careless winds. Elemental, yet hushed.
“In the dead of winter not unlike what lay beyond my enclave, a witch begged sanctuary right where you stand now. This place was a haven for only the broken and those castaway back then, and yet here stood this powerful Mage chaperoned by an equally skilled demi-demon. I almost turned them away because of their ability. My aid was not necessary for those warriors to survive. The Mage had two babes under her care. Twins born scants months before her flight to seek refuge. That was the winter of 1480, if memory serves me, Lauded Hunter. I felt pity for the frozen babes in an uncovered cart, so they stayed.”
“Sypha...” Trevor could barely gasp her name before the cool breeze of autumn air that was the Great Mother's aura stole his breath. She was all at once around and inside him, worming deeper inside than he'd even allowed the Vampyre until Trevor felt prone and naked before her.
“Quite the burden you left that poor woman in your absence, but my did she thrive in her time here. Mother Witch and her demi-demon sentinel. Their combined efforts serving and empowering our battered, weary and frightened wards changed the course of this Commune.” The dry rustling crunched momentarily, the laughter of raw nature. “You were about to show me deep gratitude for sheltering your wife, children and betrothed, Hunter of our Kind. Instead allow me to show mine for the gift of them your unfortunate circumstance allowed. They lived well, Sypha and her daughters. The Dhampyre, the only one of his kind I have ever lain eyes upon until little Leila came along, does too live well amongst us. A fine leader, that one, with a noble heart. Both heart and convictions our fair Dhampyre has always claimed stem from your inspiration, Hunter, and from a distance this claim I found myself skeptical of. Your aura wavers too often as wildly as your moods, and your nerves are a constant battleground. In ignorance, you've allowed so much innate talent to lay useless and untapped and you are both dismissive of your heritage and the miraculous fact that like our Dhampyre and Leila, you are quite possibly one of the last of your kind.”
So much for good impressions, I guess. Not knowing what, if there was anything to say, Trevor remained quiet. The Great Mother was correct about likely everything, not least of all that he was immensely grateful for allowing Sypha and his daughters inside that night back in the 15th century. No matter what she said to him here, that fact would never change.
“That was from a distance, as I've said.” Quartz and malachite scraped into an approximation of a smile. “Here you are up close before me, Lauded Hunter, and I can now see what our Dhampyre saw clearly. What my Little Dulceață here sees as well. In spite of all the shadows clinging to your person and staining your soul, you have persisted. Had you shown up that wintry night centuries ago, I would have turned you away too, Hunter. You are wounded and weary, but not broken. Never broken. You shall never need more than your own conviction to triumph, but that does not mean you need refuse the help Dulceață and his Dhampyre are keen to provide you. Love has always been better proven with direct action... So allow me to share the love fostering within from my gratitude, Hunter. My Dulceață has not known joy for terribly long now, but his spirit soars these days. A wondrous catalyst you are, Hunter. So come hither.”
Trevor found himself kneeling by the other side of her chair opposite Joachim, but the Vampyre said nothing and simply lay his head on her expansive lap, allowing the casual, soothing strokes of her hand through his hair to continue. The Great Mother's attendants were scarce as well, and it seemed even the fire in the great pit before them gave off muted light. As far as Trevor figured, what this mythical being was about to share with him was for him alone, and it would be his choice of what, if he were even to elect to share.
“Let me tell you the tale of primordial infancy, Sweet Lilin. When the world was raw and unformed, pregnant with any and all possibility. What grew in the oceans and crawled onto the lands birthed beings like myself... Of your progenitor. Yes, what time and history named Lilû came to exist from the very same crash of energy that formed me. Most of us faded in time, returning to the ether to crash and be formed anew. Many more gave of themselves to create offspring, diluting energy away until they were only their legacy, changing year after year as did the lands separate and drift. But a handful like I are left, and Lilû is just such a one. That is your heritage, Lilin. You are living history. A link to the dawn of perceivable time... Since you will fight to persist, you could also serve as link to our future, given time.”
“I just wanted to live simply here with Adrian, Joachim. Leila as well.”
“You may for a long time yet, Lilin. Or you may not. The shifts in the earth or the ripple in a pond here or there could have consequences in the far distance you could never fathom. Though I am of the earth, even I cannot say with clarity what she will bring next. Live your life and enjoy it fully. Learn how to bake your bread and marry your Dhampyre. Draw my little Leila out of her shell and dote upon your grandchildren beyond these forests. Continue to be kind to my Dulceață and ease his loneliness. But you would do well to bear in mind what you helped set in motion will come to it's conclusion eventually. You will not escape the consequences of your actions or choices, Lilin. The very axe you raised above your own head will swing down without mercy. But you have always persisted until now... So I believe there is yet some way you may survive. Only you are going to be able to change your fate, however.”
“This Spell Seal placed upon me. You know what it is for.”
“That brand cannot placed upon anyone. It must be accepted, Lilin. You chose to bear it and it by all accounts, it should be your undoing. The ritual involving that lethal Seal was performed only once, a millennia ago, and the one who accepted the brand the first time spirits say was fooled. Tricked into accepting the Seal by an earnest, eager tongue. Is that truth or myth, who could say. The only important question to ask yourself is, were you tricked into bearing it? Only you have that answer, Lilin, but I do not take you for a fool.”
The Great Mother is correct... I am no fool. I... “...I wanted this.” Trevor speculated out loud, but the moment the words left his mouth, he knew they were true. He had wanted this, and it all started when Esteffi had saved him. His heart held a conflicted love for the woman his patchy memories kept trying to convince him had been passionate and shared his beliefs for a kinder world juxtaposed against the abject hatred he seethed with for the monster that had nearly killed Adrian. The same could be said about the demon that had found him and fed him in the dark cave. The one that had curled up against his freezing body and kept him warm while he was too weak to move. The one who had brought Esteffi to free him. That demon who had not only coerced Adrian into bargaining his body for bouts of relief but was also likely still running around carry the child it had forced into existence by assaulting Joachim.
He loathed them.
...But he still loved them.
My head feels like it's being split apart by a burning spike...
“You already have all your answers, Lilin. They are locked inside a place of which only you have the key. Examine the pieces and ask yourself, why you? What are you? Why would what you are be so important that only one like yourself could bear that brand? Who else bore it? Why could they? What became of them? Does your unfortunate circumstance have a role? A clue, perhaps? There is a single thread to follow, Lilin, if you could only locate it amongst the false leads and your own refusal to peer closely. While you ask yourself these things, live and enjoy your life as you had planned. Indulge in your happiness and the happiness you are bringing the ones around you with the time you have left. Perhaps the peace you forge for yourself will be the all the foundation you need. Do not fight the memories when they come home to roost, however. The consequences will follow.”
“That's a tall order for a man with a self-imposed death sentence... Stranger still, I know you are right, Great Mother, but I don't believe I wanted to die just for the sake of it. There must be some good my death is going to bring. I must have been certain of that then, and I am a man of my word... Even if I don't want to die now. I... I really don't want to leave now that I may have finally found where I belong.”
“You are a tragic child, Lilin.”
“...You won't tell me more? Not even just one more hint?”
If you could get blood or tears from a stone, in that very moment the Great Mother may have nearly pulled it off. “Child, you know that is not how this works. I have no divinity nor prophecy. I am simply studying and relaying the impressions sensed off what you already have cloistered inside. I have done nothing but put voice to your subconscious and allowed you to delve more deeply into your own truth. I may only tell you what you already know deep down on some level.”
“I don't want to die.” Trevor stated firmly, but without sneer or tears. It was his truth, plain and simple. “Whatever the reason I agreed to the first time, I've changed my mind. I'll find a way to make whatever grand idea I had a reality another way. I am not going to die and leave. Not after I finally found a place to call home.”
“Having now met you in person, Lilin... I believe you will persist.”
Notes:
Yes, Trevor did just perform a semi-civil panty-raid.
You're welcome if you needed that in your life.
Chapter 65: Overtime
Chapter Text
February 15th 2038 ~ Wallachia, Demon Embassy
“Look who the cat dragged in.” A dry raspy voice flatly commented. “Oh, that's right. You are the cat.”
“I am late one time...”
“Oh, don't mind her, Ambassador.” Marcella cut in, both with her words and her small body, squeezing between the towering Dhampyre and the demoness who had served in both Walter's and Dracula's army, now-turned Chief of Staff, effectively driving them apart. “Of course our boring duty-driven Eri would not understand how hard it must be to part ways with your fiancé every afternoon. I'm certain his heart pines for yours already.”
“Which one of them is it downstairs who keeps giving a full detailed report about my scent, Marcella, and why do you you feel the need to bring it up? It's rude, and I don't pay you all to gossip. That's what Seshat Publications is for.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alucard asked out loud. “Why do I keep coming here every day?”
The dream demoness visibly wilted in real time causing her usually caustic companion to rise to her defence. Erinys retrieved the topmost report from out of the Nyx's hands and spread the collection of bank records, cellphone GPS coordinates and street camera photos open across his desk, bringing the focus back from the agitated Dhampyre's personal life and onto the the potential problem at hand. “Ella is not so great with tension, Ambassador, as you are aware. Your tardiness caused so much alarm because it happened on the heels of Mikhail's. He was to escort your guest this morning discreetly but we've lost contact with him. They are late and when you failed to arrive per usual, you can understand how conspiracy grew. It is common for dream demons to distract themselves or withdraw into happier fantasies when stressed.”
Glancing up at his personal secretary and truly taking a minute to study the tautness around her eyes and the clench of her teeth, Alucard bowed his head, wordlessly apologizing. “Discreet means sometimes dropping off the grid, Marcella.” He reasoned to ease her fretting.
Mikhail was the longtime thrall of a now Church slain Vampyre. One who had refused, like Alpha Rhysand, to ever compromise or make concessions with human society. The assignment itself Julius had handled efficiently, if memory served. Mikhail had been lost without a Master only for the Church to collect and subsequently release him after an even lengthier interrogation, rehabilitation and trial. One of which he'd been found not liable for his Master's Force of Will, but that still left the lucid thrall nowhere to turn in a city that would judge him harshly for even being a victim. A thrall could do a lot of things in daylight a Vampyre could not, however, and Mikhail had been open to the offer the Embassy had made for his services. Years later, he'd been open to Marcella's innocent crush. Yet more years still and the two shared a flat right around the corner from their workplace. She was worried about her lover. Alucard had been in those same shoes often enough.
These two women Alucard had selected to work so closely with were like sisters to him, and how they spoke to one another in private showcased their combative but loving ties. Erinys knew their little sister was stressed and yes, Marcella's coping mechanism was a shared pastime between those of her species. A Nyx brought your pleasant wish fulfillment fantasies into your dreams in exchange for the energy they siphoned off your pleasure... Alucard's immense joy and pleasure with his perfect pretty Prințesă was a balm Marcella could not resist in her current worried state, fuelled by Vampyre bodyguard gossip about who the Dhampyre smelled like and what it was clear he'd been doing all last night.
“I know... If Mikhail felt even slightly that they were being tailed he would follow protocol. He is very cautious and it is far too early to jump to any conclusions. We did already contact the Harpy sisters for search and rescue if need be to the last known coordinates. We'll hear an update in a few hours, I'm sure.”
“Come here.” Alucard beckoned with a half-smile. “Don't say I never did anything for you.” With that, the Dhampyre closed his eyes and with the aid of centuries of meditative practice, flipped through his memories like one would a Rolodex to settle on the night previous. It would be a fine feast for the Nyx to absorb.
Breathless Trevor Belmont dressed both smartly and a touch provocatively, steel jewel eyes burning with admiration for him was almost true to life in recall. What a powerful fantasy the sultry brunette would make to sooth Marcella's nerves. As memory served, Trevor's strong arms having wrapped themselves around a cinched, eye-catching waist, caressed a willowy form absentmindedly. A hunt and heart's racing later, Alucard too had caressed that same body. Against the grey siding of a storehouse in the backstreets of his city, the Dhampyre had subdued and dominated a wild river. Tasted it, even, straight from the source. At his Prințesă's behest and encouragement to start, but that had truly been only the start of his intentions...
“Oh my.” Marcella's voice shattered the fantasy, but it was too late.
She'd seen it... Because Alucard too could now picture the night prior with perfect clarity. There was no room for denial or an easy way to explain his actions and hunger all away, nor brush them aside as simple side effect of too potent a pheromone. On February 14th of the year 2038, Adrian Fahrenheit Țepeș had performed on stage to a cheering crowd, wooed his lovely lady in private performance, and then would have kissed and done more to his best friend of near six hundred years if Joachim hadn't wriggled out of it at the moment of Trevor's last minute interference. There was no use denying it. Evening prior, Alucard had more than lost the plot.
I wanted to fuck him last night, and now Marcella's aware of that.
At least the forlorn woman now had her colour back and her energy stores full to bursting. A realized fantasy, partial or not, was a far superior dish than to one of wishful thinking.
What is wrong with you? The Devil on his shoulder reeled. First of all, he's passably handsome at best. So are millions of other men. He's taller than you like them. His hair is not dark enough. He's neurotic about the stupidest things all because his former piece of shit 'Master' beat and tortured 'perfection' into him and he goes off the deep end when you allude to or challenge his monstrous upbringing by a sadistic rapist child groomer. It's suffocating how he always wants to cling to you. Wanting to slide under your skin and know you in ways You don't like being seen, all in the name of Desire demon connections. Overwhelming you with his fathomless needs, as if you am somehow supposed to know what to do with all that confusing desperation? How are you expected to save him from a hell not of his own making, but certainly his own upkeep? Then, in spite of asking all that from you he goes ahead night after night dallying with a different demoness in every town, giving away his attentions and affections to all those faceless women for free?
Oh, are you talking about the man who took you in under his wing, taught you most of what you know on how to be a Dhampyre and Desire demon? The clichéd Angel on his other shoulder shot counterpoint. The one whose been by your side through every celebration and failure? Always putting you and your needs, desires and duties ahead of his own? Caring for you and protecting you when you're unable to do so yourself? Stepping up to raise your child when you failed the girl? The one you only just recently acknowledged has been a mentor, a father, a brother, friend and your life partner? The one whose been happiest to welcome you home since the day you first met? That man?
Who wants to fuck their father or brother? That's fucked up. The Devil insisted, rationing. This still can all be easily explained away with logic, I promise. You are on a mission of personal growth and you've been an ungrateful asshole forever. This is just overwhelming long-overdue gratitude that's got no place to be other than vomiting all over the place and mucking up your formerly defined and platonic intentions. It's just blurred lines while you find yourself again, man. Blame this apprehension and uncertainty over the massive elephant in the room; That Trevor and your best friend are hot for one another, and you're all in agreement to talk about that in depth soon. Maybe there is a little bit of sexual confusion because their open flirting is not turning you off? So what?
It's turning you on, is what, you moron. The not-so-angelic counter argument continued. They're into one another, and Trevor is for damn sure clearly into you being in that mix. Which is just feeding that massive ego of yours. Oh, woe is you, Scion of Dracula. How terrible a thing to be admired and adored wholeheartedly, and desired in bed. Don't pretend while pleasuring yourself this morning you didn't shoot your load the second you began thinking of your mentor, father, brother, friend and partner not under the light of all those other roles, but instead of as your wife. The apple didn't fall far from the tree. Old Dracula would be so proud of you for collecting Brides.
Which one of you bastards is supposed to be the angel? His third more neutral voice brushed aside the commotion, compartmentalizing what was certainly not going to be solved in the here and now so that Marcella and Erinys would stop calling his name and staring at him like he needed to be committed for a psyche evaluation. This morning's personal gratification ritual was not going to be dissected and available for study. Nope.
“I'm sorry, say that again?”
“Oh, Ambassador... I was reporting that our first South American Embassy is nearly complete, and that it would be prudent for us to put our best foot forward by having you attend it's ribbon ceremony. I was asking your approval to schedule you a flight for six weeks from now.”
South America, hmm... That is where the first flare-ups of energy akin to blood magick were reported from. A lot of the deceased Hunters found in Estefania's first lair were also from Chile, El Salvador and such. It seems like Estefania was around those countries for a time, so perhaps there is some trail to pick up, or perhaps even the origin of her madness to uncover. The Church has a branch in several of those countries as well, so they could provide an assist. “Along with the usual entourage, book an extra ticket, Marcella.” With that raging bitch lost in the wind it should be safe enough. I doubt she's scurried back across the ocean when the Castle by all accounts should be accessible easiest by the Baljhet Mountains next.
“For Mister Belmont?” The Nyx guessed correctly. “He has been fully registered with the Church and issued a passport, so there should be no issue.”
“That's right. I am hoping to kill two birds with one stone on the trip.” The Dhampyre affirmed.
“Is it a family trip? Shall I book for Joachim and Leila as well?”
“No.” That had come off far more harsh than Alucard had intended, but the finality would not change even if spoken more softly. “Who is going to keep an eye on all of you while I am away if Joachim comes with?”
“Miss Leila hasn't accompanied you in such a long time, and I just remembered how excited she was when she was little learning about the rainforests and the importance of the area for our ecosystem and thought...”
“Marcella. I said what I said. There will be no debate.” Leila was safe and snug at home where nothing could hurt her or worry him, and that's what he liked. “Erinys, what are the chances we could re-establish contact with those witches who tipped us off about the Coven's rituals in South America? I am particularly interested in the locations of where these rituals took place, and I would like to bring Trevor to see them, if possible. Perhaps he may recall some parts of his spotty memory if one of the sites are familiar. It's too overt to ask the governments down there directly for more info on the cases of the murdered Hunters, and I doubt they would be open to sharing with us if we did. We're not in any way, shape, or form attached to Law Enforcement, after all.”
“Anything is possible, Ambassador. I will look into it during the time we have before your flight.”
No worse for wear from his firm rebuff, the Nyx nodded. “Will this be your first trip together with Mister Belmont, Ambassador?” Marcella asked, wrapping herself up in her own arms and twisting to contain what one Yoko Belnades would describe as a 'squee'. “The new Embassy's on the edge of a Demon Reserve so there are no living quarters on site, I'm afraid. Staff and construction workers are staying in tents while at camp by the work site. I suppose camping out near the rainforest could have it's own charms. The stars are probably stunning with so little light pollution.”
“How unfortunate.” Erinys openly mocked. “The Ambassador's idea of roughing it these days is a three star hotel. How are you suggesting he survive, Ella?”
Quickly joining in on the joke, the smaller demoness giggled coyly. “Perhaps Mister Belmont will be open to sharing his cot to make things more palatable for our refined Ambassador?”
“Perhaps Trevor Belmont is the cot, Ella.” Erinys mused in her wispy timbre, drawing out another laugh from both the tiny Nyx and even one from her much larger boss. “Hmm, now that reminds me, Ambassador. In addition to the gossip about your sexual conquest, there is also a betting pool.”
“Oh, I'm sure this is going to inappropriate and not any of your business.”
“That is what makes the rumour mill enjoyable, Ambassador.”
“Of course... All right, Erinys. What are you all taking bets of while on my dime in lieu of doing your jobs?”
“Whichever one out of the pair of you is the cot, Ambassador.”
“Obviously, not your business. Make sure to tell those Chatty Cathy's downstairs the same.” Restating his position firmly, he waved Marcella to plop down the rest of her reports and proposals he needed to review and all but chased the demoness' out of his office. Until Mikhail resurfaced or the Harpy sisters relay back ill tidings, his time would be best spent tackling the ever growing pile of paperwork that always manifested each time he took his eyes off his cleared desk.
Marcella was quick to scurry back to her duties but Erinys let her go through the door alone before turning to face him, speaking privately. “With my Divine sight I can always win these bets, Ambassador, hence why I refrain from taking part. So I already know that you and Trevor are flexible and fair in regards to being one another's pillows.”
“Still not your business, and I don't know why you're wasting my time to tell me what I already know. I was in my own bedroom last night.”
For perhaps the first time in Alucard's whole entire life, Erinys hesitated before speaking. “It's the essence. I can see it on or inside everyone's bodies... While I may not be able to pick up scents like the Vampyres and the rest of our Desire demon staff, if I know the essence, I know whose been in whose company. Often how they've been in company, as well.” Another disturbing hesitation was witnessed before the demoness flapped her pink wings in an apparent attempt to burn off nerves and continued. “We've known eachother a long while, Alucard. This is the first time I have seen the Knight Commander's essence mingling upon your lips.”
So not just Marcella's got an insight into my private life now, it seems. I should have guessed Erinys' abilities would give away more than I am ready to disclose for now. Useful, but double-edged, that Divine sight. Still...Why is she hemming and hawing to tell me she knows instead of just grunting and ignoring my sex life per usual? Why would she care this time? Unless...
“Eri...” Alucard inhaled slow, deep. “Do you like like him or something?”
“He is my superior, Alucard. I've served under him ages before your father's birth. I am serving under you now only because the Knight Commander lost his mind one day and swore fealty to a prideful, dismissive whelp. It's lunacy, but the man was broken and not making good decisions at the time. He seems set to continue honouring the fool decision regardless... So I honour mine to follow him.”
“You didn't answer the question.”
“ While I would agree that he is sensitive, thoughtful and quite easy on the eyes physical or metaphysical, the Knight Commander has my loyalty and admiration, not my lust. But you... Whatever deficiency you've both been satisfying for one another in your lives until now never crossed a certain line. So let me ask you, Alucard, that same question. Do you like like, him or something? You better figure that one out before you take from an honourable, loyal man something you won't ever be capable of giving back.”
With that, the door to his personal quarters clicked shut behind her, leaving Alucard alone with his thoughts.... Were there any to be had. Mostly he just sat feeling numb and useless.
When word came back hours later that the Harpy sisters had discovered blood and signs of an all out brawl in the deep woods East of Wallachia, Alucard pushed away from his desk to fly out and survey the reportedly grisly scene himself. With daylight left for hours still, their Vampyre staff would not be able to shift forms to join the search themselves as quickly as Alucard would have preferred, and the only other winged demons employed at Embassy that day were the two demoness' he needed to run things in his absence. Dangerous and foolish as it may be, after one look at the stricken expression on Marcella, not even Erinys could stop him. There was no one else to search.
Reports and proposals were left abandoned upon his desk. He hadn't reviewed a single document.
*****
Nondescript patch of forest ~ North of the City of Jova
Blood and gore always seemed infinitely more gruesome against freshly fallen virginal snow, the Dhampyre had always found, although his zeal for the sight of it had changed drastically over the years as he evolved from Dracula's Scion to Demon Ambassador. Repugnant to his senses or not, at least the trail of carnage made for an easy enough path to follow, which he did after sending the Harpies to survey in the general direction he was travelling towards above. If there was yet another ambush waiting down at the other end of this winding chaotically made trail-break in the snow, Alucard would appreciate a heads up. Three separate times the evidence of flight and chase broke into wide messy brawls and while there was no ambush thus far, what the Moroi did come across was a concernedly sheer drop into a snowy gully and nary a scent nor tracks to follow beyond. If Mikhail was anywhere... He was at the bottom of this fall. Alucard changed forms again and flew down, meeting up with the sisters as he landed.
Together, the trio took note of the absolute brutality abound. Six Man Beasts lay slain, while a seventh panted quick and shallow, barely hanging on to her consciousness. The Dhampyre had no time to suffer the abject sneer and hiss she spat in his direction. Further into the brush lay an eighth Man Beast in even far more dire conditions than the hostile woman... And then there was Mikhail. The thrall, bruised and bloody himself, trembled weakly, struggling to keep the pressure up as he held his jacket to the Man Beast's torn open belly.
“Call SMURD for three. Then the Church. Then the police for six bodies.” His order was cold. Detached. His own suit jacket came off to better warm their witness who was showing all the telltale signs of going into shock. He took over for Mikhail, holding down the soiled winter coat to a quivering open wound, using the moment the wounded man collapsed against the barren shrubs to study his injuries. “Mikhail, you need to stay awake for me. Ella's going to be very upset if you slip into a coma, so stay with us. Tell me what happened.”
“His name is Dayfdd. Rhysand's tribesmen do not have family names.” Mikhail's breathing was too erratic. More than enough of the blood they were sitting in belonged to the thrall, Alucard noted grimly. “He wouldn't say much, Ambassador. I'm sorry. The man was so nervous he would only speak to you ... And now, maybe...”
“You did well. How many attacked you?”
“Nine, Sir.” Mikhail let out a low, pained groan, but stayed present. Stayed conscious. “Dayfydd was convinced he hadn't slipped away unnoticed and he was correct. These hunters were lead by an Alpha who tracked Dayfdd down. That Man Beast put up a hell of a good fight alongside me, Sir... I... I hope he...”
“You did great, Mikhail. You did everything right. You even administered first aid right away. He'll live because of you. More importantly, Marcella's going to be so happy to see you're all right. So stay awake a little bit longer, please. You're almost through this.”
“The choppers are on their way, as are the police, the coroner, and some AIA's from the Church. Our people are also en route to pick you up, Ambassador.” One of the sisters stepped closer to report softly.
“There were nine assailants, per Mikhail. We've got seven. Two are unaccounted for.” That was all it took for the sisters to return to their hunt and Alucard was satisfied, confident as he was in their abilities. Their leaving preceded the telltale whupping of helicopter blades, leaving the Dhampyre to practice running his own excuses to explain yet another failure under his watch to the Church. “Good job, Mikhail. Help has arrived, so you can rest now.”
As for the Demon Ambassador, the long evening had only just begun.
*****
Bucharest, Romania ~ The Royal Hospital
I should have just waited for the damn Embassy car... Alucard scolded himself for his brashness, doing his best appear both stoic and unperturbed by the camera flashes of news reporters, a wide range of dubious independent journalists, ambulance chasing attorneys, and just plain old nosy bystanders. Pointedly refusing to so much as breath deeply enough that his chest would visibly expand once Seshat Publications arrived on the scene. They were the easiest to spot, and the most persistent when it came to the Demon Prince. Not that his efforts to give the glorified stalkers nothing would matter. The breaking story was already on the twenty-four hours news network, which he could confirm because currently he was standing there watching his very own scene-causing arrival to the hospital on repeat.
It never ceased to amaze him how fast these people could work. All of these networks seemed to have someone camping out on police radios at all hours so they could dispatch their own teams nearly to the minute. Paired with the fact every citizen was walking around with their own filming equipment handy in their pockets and nothing was ever as quiet and covert as they used to be. There was already a string of separate videos strung together of varying quality airing on TV.
Shaky cam footage of the airbuses arrival carrying the three critical patients chaperoned by police and an AIA for each of the two Man Beasts. The blurred but evident red stains of copious blood zoomed in on poorly. Then a few different shots for several sources of a large black bat shifting back into the form of the Demon Ambassador at the hospital entrance. Clad in only his suit vest, the snowy white of his dress shirt was soaked crimson with the evidence of Mikhail and Dayfdd's trauma. Not even rolling up his sleeves to his elbow could conceal the stains. If he had only waited for the car, Erinys or Marcella would have had a change of clothes at the ready per protocol. They were all well aware of how reliably Alucard could not be trusted to avoid getting personally involved. If the correct, wise decision has been selected, the Dhampyre would not be exacerbating the situation with his sloppy, telling appearance. The news would not keep airing his grim, shocking image on repeat.
Then again, if he had not come straight from the scene after speaking with the police and abusing his clout to leave the scene, there would have been no one here to advocate for Mikhail and ask after his care, as Marcella was still on her way. Nor would there be anyone to do the same for the undocumented Welsh demon that had illegally entered Romanian borders to speak with him. Alucard already had his people drafting up paperwork to mitigate the legal troubles Dayfdd would be facing from his altruistic choice to try and do the right thing, as well as the financial costs of his emergency surgery and all associated, subsequent treatment. Protection for Mikhail as well from knowingly meeting with and crossing borders with Dayfdd.
At current, all he could do was wait. For his people to arrive with Marcella, for the doctors to report back, for the AIA's to speak with him, and to complete filing his police report with a pair of detectives who had also arrived on the scene. Given how powerless and ineffective it made one feel, being on standby was the least favourite position Alucard enjoyed.
Orange Julius: You look like hell, Alucard.
The little vibration in his hand signalling the inbound message on the demon messenger app was a most welcome distraction. It had been sent in the group chat created back in Japan. Such a happier, simpler time, Japan, rose-tinted googles notwithstanding.
YoBear: Whose blood is all that? Whose in the ER? It's not Grandpa, is it????? Tell him I said STOP. He's costing you a fortune in medical bills. Or is he considered a Romanian citizen enough now for freebies??
Al's Diner: I see you guys are taking a news break as part of your evening. Trevor's safe at home which is where he will be staying until further notice. Don't worry about that.
YoBear: WHOSE BLOOD AL? AM U DYIN?
Al's Diner: If it were mine, would I be standing here on display for the Prime Time news block, or inside being treated?
YoBear: Hammer says if you die he's going to kill you. He also wants to know WHY are you bloody and standing on the first floor of a hospital.
Orange Julius: I too would like to hear from the horse's mouth what's going on.
Al's Diner: I'll trade. You tell me what you know, and I'll do the same.
Orange Julius: I got seven dead undocumented Man Beasts, two in critical condition, and news of one of your staff in critical condition as well. One Man Beast MIA. Search hasn't come up anything yet, but there are signs that the two escaped the scene you discovered and looked to be heading towards Serbian borders before one succumbed to their injuries and was abandoned. Chatter from my colleagues on site suggest that this has something to do with that Alpha Rhysand our Coven was concerned about. Too early to confirm anything yet.
YoBear: Holy shit.
Al's Diner: There is nothing sacred about this bullshit.
YoBear: Unholy shit, Al.
Al's Diner: It's just shit, Yoko. A big, huge, stinking pile of shit that I now have to sift through.
Orange Julius: I want my trade. Stop distracting him, Yoko.
Al's Diner: Fair is fair. Yes, a member of my staff was escorting a Man Beast from Alpha Rhysand's tribe who wished to speak to me in confidence. He risked a lot to get here and we failed him. We were the ones who called you guys and I am on site until the rest of my staff arrive to take over. I do not know what the Beast Man was going to discuss as he was tight-lipped per my critically injured man. There were only six dead and one of the assailants in critical condition when I arrived. So I supposed we're in the same boat. No concrete answers until the three admitted come out of surgery and are well enough to talk, or the demons I have following the trail or the police track down the last assailant.
Orange Julius: AIA Reynolds is assigned to the Alpha female perpetrator. You can trust him to have only his job as an agenda. Man's a good egg, Alucard.
YoBear: You're only saying that because you served in the army with him. Boys Club.
Orange Julius: Band of Brothers and all that, yeah. But seriously, he's got no greater ambitions.
Al's Diner: Noted with thanks. I will make sure it is Reynolds I give my report to.
YoBear: Well if there's nothing else to be mull over until we have more details, how is Grandpa, Al? I haven't heard from him since Yule. Julius won't give me his number because if Grandpa wanted to, he would have given it to me at the party but I BARELY had a chance to speak with him and not even one on one so HOW COULD HE, JULES??? You just don't want me to be the favourite Belmont Grandchild(TM).
Orange Julius: You bet your ass that's right. I am the one who looks like him, so it should be me. Plus, I have the number.
YoBear: (;A;)
Al's Diner: Break it up, kids. Trevor's doing well. Too well. Overly popular with too many people, I would go so far as to say.
YoBear: XD
Al's Diner: If you're looking for a more in depth reply, I think he's started a Girl Gang and they've voted him their honorary Baddest Bitch. He's also amassed a fan-club full of Wrath demons, and some human witch keeps leaving him these little cards with hearts and flowers on them pinned up at his Girl Gang HQ. Naturally, I hate all of it.
YoBear: This is too perfect. I need all the deets stat because I am in love with Baddest Bitch Gangsta Grandpa.
Al's Diner: Oh, just ask him yourself. [UserContact:AddChatMember,UserName (Prințesă) – ShareChatHistory = N]
YoBear: Princess????
Orange Julius: Princess? Seriously?
YoBear:JINX
Prințesă: ...Do I want to know what is going on?
YoBear: GRANDPA??
Orange Julius: How you doing, my man?
Prințesă: Oh... You know. Climbing the social ladder. Eye on the crown.
YoBear: Hammer says VERY loudly NAPOLEON!!
Prințesă: Uncle Sam!
Orange Julius: Where you at, Trevor?
Prințesă: Well I wish I could share, but Joachim says that if I told you, he'd have to eliminate you all. Also, he would like me to relay that he left the coffee thermos he stole from 'the bald one' that one time and the camp blanket outside your window, Yoko. Both have been washed.
YoBear: JFC, WHEN? It's true, they're both there! Hammer is dying laughing but I am VERY concerned your Vampyre babysitter knows which goddamn window is mine.
Prințesă: Oh, he finds that very amusing, and promises he'll leave ice cream next time. For 'the bald one', not you, he'd like to clarify. Hammer seems to be his favourite.
Al's Diner: Well you guys enjoy. BRB... Work.
Setting his notifications to silent, Alucard pocketed his phone to greet the AIA's and one of the detectives stepping through the wide hospitals doors. They waved him to enter, holding the doors open wearing tight smiles and giving polite nods as he stepped passed them. Alucard took note of AIA Reynolds on the left, putting a face to the name. It was more than likely his presence was drawing too much media attention and frenzy at the hospital gates that this invite into the interior was the lesser of two evils, but Alucard would take the minor win. He wasn't a fan of being a spectacle, although it did come part and parcel with the Ambassadorial territory.
What lay inside of where he was more deeply lead was a frantic bustle of activity and exactly what he expected once the Church agents and police detectives pulled him into an emptied alcove set up as a temporary workstation. Put bluntly, a series of semi-off the the record interrogations, another four or five instances where he was asked to relay what happened from his perspective – respectfully, of course – for the record, and a bunch of fact checking and data collection about Man Beast tribe dynamics and possible motives for the attack. Julius' commendations in mind, Alucard saved the more problematic details for AIA Reynolds alone, and the man seemed agreeable to report back the full accurate report to Eliza directly and Eliza alone. Small boon of the whole fiasco was that his clearance into the cordoned off area allowed him to successfully request Marcella gain admittance and special permission for her to sit by Mikhail while the thrall was moved to recovery not too long after she arrived. The well-meaning demoness had even brought him a change of shirt and coat in spite of her live-in long term lover's critical condition and her obvious preoccupation with his well-being. Their whistle-blower or whatever he could be considered, Dayfdd, was still touch and go at this junction. The diagnosis his Dhampyric hearing picked up was looking progressively bleak.
Luckily, in that blackly humorous way, the Man Beast woman was also moved into recovery under armed guard a few hours later. If Dayfdd succumbed to his injuries, the murderous Alpha was their last ditch chance at solving the immediate mystery.
Needless to say, Alucard did not go home that evening. Nor the next few. He traded time between liaison work at the Embassy collaborating with Church, police, and his organization and visiting Marcella and Mikhail at the hospital. Often he worked out of the makeshift alcove office the other agencies utilized just for convenience. When Marcella needed to rest he would sit by Mikhail's bed in her stead so that she need not worry about her love. Listening to Mikhail's soft breathing while he drafted statements and secured diplomatic exemptions for the thrall's involvements. Even the soft ping of his chats were muted.
YoBear: So it's settled then. Family Get-Together at the Belnades Bodacious Bungalow. You will be there or be forever known as the lamest square of squares.
Orange Julius: Is there drinking involved? I could use a drink.
YoBear: What kind of question is that, Jules? We have the best booze here. Witches get Wasted is our unofficial motto!
Prințesă: I learned how to drive a motorcycle recently. My back-up boyfriend thinks getting there in one piece would be a decent final exam, so I am in.
YoBear: You can drive now, Grandpa? You're one step ahead of Jules now!
Orange Julius: Fuck off. I have Magick Amnesia.
Alucard sighed and pocketed his phone forcefully in order to refocus on the pressing tasks pending. He'd ask about 'back-up boyfriends' at a later date. It was quite unusual for him to suffer such distractions while working, but somehow those little pings, muted or not, kept tugging at his heartstrings, reeling him back into the comforts of familial ties. This was far from the time and place to have such a selfish indulgence, however much he wanted to give in.
Dayfdd was still in a medically induced coma. The Man Beast woman who had attacked her tribesman was also too weak to be taken in for a proper interrogation while resolutely refusing to answer any questions from her sickbed in the limited time hospital staff would allow the authorities to try. Mikhail was gaining strength day by day partly in thanks to his Moroi traits, but in all likelihood it was simple chutzpah and the uplifting, steadfast presence of his most favourite girl at his side. Video calls were a constant feature as the man's colleagues checked in on him constantly. So many demons visiting the Royal would have caused too much of a stir it was universally agreed upon at the Embassy, otherwise Alucard imagined they would have piled in daily at Mikhail's bedside.
Seeing the demon so happy to be showered with the attentions of his friends and family also gave Alucard a strange ache in his chest. He'd started stepping out during those group video calls in a vain attempt to avoid the hollow feeling gnawing at his insides.
In the few quiet minutes he had to himself between pressing matters he would smile at the hopping group chat between Trevor's side of the family. The Hunter was not only pretty savvy with memes, but quick on the draw, beating out even Yoko more times than not to the punchline. She loved it every single time. In direct messages Trevor would send him progress reports on his bedroom design, which Alucard found was leaning heavily on the feminine side of things, although he kept that thought quietly to himself. It looked nice. Sunny. Trevor deserved a happy calm space of his own, and the Dhampyre felt terrible for not having thought to provide that first thing. The Hunter would check in but never ask for details of his work or the current crisis to the point it seemed deliberate, and it likely was... An offer for small distraction here and there. Offers not even Alucard's work ethic and dedication could completely ignore. Trevor also shared sneaky pics of Leila and Joachim in 'their natural habitat', which boiled down to a collage of them in the family living room, the sky-view room next to the sauna, or at Al's under various states of inebriation. The Girl Gang seemed to have accepted Joachim into their ranks, based on how easily they lay against his sides or leaned towards him in those stealthy shots.
Looking at those kinds of images only grew that hollowness inside him. The Dhampyre... Did not like them. Desire demons of which the majority of them partook in open relationships with zero qualms about sexual exploits so freely accessible and obviously interested in Alucard's family members. In an atmosphere lubricated by recreational drugs and alcohol? And just why was Claudia always hanging onto Joachim's arm in them? Alucard was not too keen either on the shot of Trevor, seated between shoulder bone protrusion and neck of the hulking Átahsaia like it was the Hunter's goddamned throne, painting Jeremiah's remaining horn with tribal markings from the demon's homeland in nail polish. Trevor did not need to ride 'Jerry'... But how was the Dhampyre supposed to phrase that demand in a way that did not sound jealous and petty?
There were other less aggravating snippets into the lives Alucard, schedule too full to partake, would otherwise never have been aware of as well. Several backstage at the concert hall during rehearsals. Alucard loved those ones earnestly. Leila with her flute and Joachim with his violin caught in media res. He loved the video of their music practice even more so, listening to their immortalized airy melody multiple times per day when he ought to have been focused on his to-do lists, longing for the days past where he would have been present to play the piano with them.
Unusual as it was, the hollow growing ache seemed to be a mainstay as the days ticked away for the Dhampyre. There was so much joy and companionship taking place between the people he wanted to be with, just out of reach. His obligations would not allow him.
But the pictures of them gaming be it electronic or pen and paper with a mixed group of friends, every face full of delight, lifted some of the weights that kept settling over Alucard's heart too. Failed baking attempts between his Hunter and daughter giving him a soft chuckle. Not so much the pictures of Leila in various outfits as Trevor played dress-up with her and the rest of his certainly bonafide Girl Gang. Once Alucard recognized the storehouse of the bar and then the crowd in several background shots, it bothered him less so. Seemed to be an open group activity with a lot of witnesses and thus less of a concern then a private game between Trevor and his beautiful adult daughter, whom Joachim had let slip may be developing an innocent crush upon the Dhampyre's attractive fiancé.
More work, more meetings, more reports, and more heat in the form of a request to meet from Eliza Levin's secretary Missy. Mikhail was improving by leaps and bounds, capable of receiving more virtual company than ever and so openly enthused by the love he was surrounded with.
The ache in Alucard's chest was starting to become it's very own distraction.
Then came pics from outside of the village of what he belatedly recognized as Ondal. The night markets gave it away. Cinema theatres and dive bars with live shows, of the comedian or magician variety mostly. Upscale stores. Fabric and other craft materials, alongside the explanation that Trevor was in the midst of designing the 'sexiest pair of hipsters' to have ever graced the green earth. Alucard wondered what Trevor meant by that, but failed to ask as he was halfway through composing an email when the image was shared. Weren't Hipsters those bearded guys in the slouchy beanies and plaid shirts? Other pics of pretty looking desserts and lattes that were more cake than liquid were interspersed between sight-seeing and landmark ones. Trevor's talons were manicured in the pic he sent of a rainbow drink, but not in the fashion the Hunter used to file them down to perfect short ovals. Instead they were accentuated at full curved length with tips dipped gold and the rest a clear, glossy polish.
Here Alucard was, cramped in an alcove facing a window that only showed him grey streets and greyer clouds in his spare moment between two conference calls while his pretty little Prințesă was off getting a mani-pedi and gods knew what else. Without him.
While the small smile remained in place on his face, Alucard was overwhelmed with such deep-cutting longing.
Another day came and went. More work. Same ache.
Somehow while on the same continent, while in the same country, and only a handful of cities away... He felt homesick. He missed his family. It was an uncomfortable gut wrenching feeling he couldn't figure out what to do with. What could he do about it? There was so much work left to attend... So what he did instead was trade looks between the wintry parking lot out front of the window he stood at in that alcove off the main hall, and back down to the snapshots of his family living and enjoying themselves together while he remained absent... It was no different than normal. Work had always kept him away for great lengths of time. It felt horribly difficult to reconcile this time, however.
A little chime pinged drawing his attention. It was a candid 3/4 shot of his camera-shy best friend. The Vampyre was staring off at a stage based on the venue visible. The rich plum of a pashmina wool crew sweater Alucard was certain he'd purchased for the demon had been caught by the intimate lighting and camera filter flatteringly. The colour popping against the swanky, blinged out black leather coat of unknown origin. Silver hair was gathered into that that half-up spiky bun style Alucard found amusing simply because that was how the elder Moroi chose to keep his hair out of the way whenever helping Alucard complete particularly messy task or chore. Alucard had always privately joked to himself it was the 'Little Helper' hairstyle. A zoom in pulled out a genuine snort as Alucard could see the retracted claws wrapped around a whisky glass – poured neat – also sported a thin shade of midnight blue to the tips. On the ring finger visible, a simple wispy design was painted on the nail. Trevor absolutely had badgered Joachim into it, there was just no other way. Or pretended at being too shy going alone, activating the Vampyre's fatherly instincts as the demon had partook in plenty of uncharacteristically Joachim activities with Leila in her youth for the exact same reason. Or something.
Prințesă: I'm not sure how I feel about my coat looking better on him than me...
Well, that explained the origin of the mystery garment, although he should have guessed considering the stylish accents to the outer wear.
Prințesă: Your gifted sweater looks really pretty on him. 10/10 approval of your eye for fashion.
Al's Diner: Are you playing dress-up with Joachim now, too?
Prințesă: Are you kidding me? This wasn't anything close to playing dress-up, Adrian. It was hostile warfare. He is so goddamn hard to please and next to impossible to convince putting even a single toe outside of his comfort zone. I deserve a medal for this, but they're tacky looking so you can just get me this bracelet if you're feeling generous and overcome with the desire to spoil me. I tried it on at the store and said no just on principle, but now I can't stop thinking about it.
An elegantly framed photo of an understated unisex piece of jewellery followed the message. It was quite fetching and of a brand renown for it's quality – and expensive – work. True to his word, Trevor Belmont was turning out to be rather high maintenance, if at the time that had not been quite how he'd phrased it. Not that it truly mattered, Alucard mused. All the best things in life required effort. Some of them also a hefty wallet.
Al's Diner: Add to cart, sweetheart.
Prințesă: Merci, Minou~<3
“I have no idea what that new moniker means, and I do not care if I ever find out.” Newly defined homesickness marginally and only momentarily abated, the Dhampyre kissed the contact name still flashing green, indicating that somewhere in Romania, Trevor was around. Reachable, and perhaps waiting as he missed his Dhampyre. Alucard was waiting too... Missing the people he'd left at home even more.
The phone went back in his pocket, and his hand went back to pressing against the pane of glass, feeling the winter chill through the failing insulation. The parking lot was as always, bleak and grey as the skies above. Mikhail would be discharged tomorrow provided he passed a final checkup which seemed a sure bet, so there was no true point in being there right then, but he would feet guilty leaving still. Marcella hadn't rested properly since the attack, so it felt wrong for him to abandon her and Mikhail in the name of crawling into bed next to his own safe and happy lover while they lacked the option. His direction had been what sent the thrall out in the first place. It's not like the bulk of his work could not be done from here. All he needed was his phone and laptop, after all, as proven by the stretch of time he'd already accumulated in the alcove. Embassy by day, hospital by night. If luck would have it, this was perhaps the last night. A visit home was imminent.
I still miss my family right now...
What a terrible empty agony, this homesickness business turned out to be. How awful was it to miss people who were so easily within reach.
Green tea.
That was the scent that broke him free of his personal pity party. Specifically, the warm welcoming scent of a green tea latte paired accompanied by a green tea cruller, to be exact. Full of decadent whipped cream on top, mixed with lavender syrup and coarse sugar dusted liberally. The most familiar shape in the world stepped in line at his side, placing the treats down upon the window stool before him. Garbed in the same trendy cut black leather coat over a rich dark plum pashmina sweater as in the picture he'd just been studying. Little Helper hairstyle and all. Had his friend come straight from seeing Trevor home, then?
“It has been thirteen days, Kitten.” A voice of liquid mercury dripped over him as surely as the scent of a cool blue riverside curled under his nose. “You've been hard at it, so I thought you might do with a small pick-me-up.”
Sensitive and thoughtful, so Erinys said. She didn't need to tell me that as if I wasn't already aware.
“Bunny wanted to come see you tonight but I promised him tomorrow we would come to bring Mikhail home together. Perhaps you could work your magick and see to it the fuzz and Church lapdogs allow the Rabbit a chance to look at this Dayfdd as well? If it jogs his memory or not, there's not harm either way, right?”
Joachim's simple glamour watched him expressionlessly, russet hair and pink complexion a believable approximation of any Welsh man walked in from off the street. One eve Trevor let slip that Joachim had confessed to the Hunter this simple change of hair and skin shade was borrowed from his human form.
...Looks like he's a brunette after all. The little angel reappeared solely for the smug remark. Dark enough for you?
Alucard ignored everything, both Joachim's valid suggestions and his own stupid brain trying to start shit, in lieu of giving the Vampyre his full attention and examination. The quicksilver of the elder demon's eyes were unchanged by the glamour, meaning they were his from birth. It was an attractive pairing of hues which Alucard could understand the appeal of. Whichever biological parent the demon took after must have been considered quite the catch in any timeline or era. Still. This was the face of a bygone, alternate reality Joachim. A Joachim who had been given a Brythonic name by Proto-Brittonic parents before Wales had even been defined as a country. This facsimile would have followed his parents and tribe's semi-nomadic lifestyle and probably would have grown to become one of their best hunter-gatherers. Marrying an equally hard-working Proto-Brittonic woman and rearing a bakers dozen between them, given how much the current version adored children. Instead, the real Joachim had been renamed by Walter Berhard as one would designate a pet, and groomed to entertain guests with pitch perfect music and flawless dance steps amongst other unspeakable preformative duties. Changed into a Moroi slave when Walter decided last minute not to waste his time-investment of a well trained animal, and then promptly given a sword to serve Walter in battle, or die trying before the injury that nearly ended him had chance to have healed properly. Joachim would have died without the Vampyre Lord's interference anyway, so why not die for him rather than because of him?
One version of those men would have been a fulfilled husband and father, while the other was left chained to a long dead Master almost by choice it seemed, most days. All the current version had to show for a millennia of servitude being a bum leg that caused him to limp when exposure to the full afternoon sunlight robbed him of access to Vampyric powers, a prison of the mind, and that hateful, eyesore of a ring. But Alucard would have never met the happy alternate reality version of Joachim, or come to know and be known by a man who could so often finish the thoughts he struggled to complete. Seen all the places he would have never gone without the Vampyre to follow. All his best music would likely never have been penned as well without inspiration and influence from the elder Moroi. He... May have never reunited with Trevor. When he first built his tomb beneath the Commune, the intention had been to stay there for eternity. It was Joachim who had kept tapping those four little claw clacks in a pattern of three upon the wood of his intended resting place, refusing to allow him to waste away into obscurity.
So Alucard vastly preferred the Joachim whom he did know.
“There's no one here... Let me look at you properly.” The Dhampyre requested softly, pleased when the glamour dropped without fanfare. Silver hair and silver eyes were a sight for sore eyes, and a salve for his long-suffered heartache.
“You are staring, Kitten.”
That was true, but pointing the fact out did not stop him from maintaining his gaze. “You have been on the receiving end of a lot of impromptu hugs from my fiancé of late. Care to show me what you've learned? I could use one right about now.”
An eyebrow was quirked infinitesimally, but the Vampyre opened his arms in welcome anyway so the Dhampyre could step into his embrace. “As you wish.” It was a standard stiff affair, common for the demon who was not raised to show affection in such a fashion. Laying beside one another or resting a head on a shoulder, sure. Each Vampyre Alucard knew seemed to have a preferred form of physical touch, and for Joachim that seemed to be holding hands. But your standard hug with all that naked neck exposure was too close an approximation of feeding for a Vampyre, so generally avoided by the eldest amongst their ranks. Which is why it surprised him when the light hands placed at the sides of his waist curled tight around his upper back and the Vampyre shifted closer, turning a silver head to lay properly against his chest. “The Little One seems to prefer doing it this way, and I must confess I've grown partial to his method. It's a pleasant sort of constriction.”
“I'm partial to his methods as well... It's kind of like he's squeezing the life into you.” Alucard chuckled, and brought one of his arms around the tiny against him waist snugly, and with his other, gently cupped the back of quicksilver, pressing closer just enough to allow easy rest of his own head on top of the elder demons. “When he clings like that, just hold him this way. I can feel his blood pressure lower when I do.” This was a proper embrace... One that lasted a considerable quiet moment.
“You're latte will get cold.” Joachim advised him, pushing away. “It's a new flavour that seemed designed precisely to please your tastes, so you should try it while it's hot, Kitten.”
Obliging, Alucard hummed satisfactorily at the taste. The lavender cream on top was doing all the correct things for his taste buds, and the kind thought for his mood. Playfully he swiped some of the cream onto his index finger and held it out towards the Vampyre's lips. “This is divine; You should try some.” Mischievously pulling it just out of reach when the elder demon made as if to transfer the sample from Alucard's fingertip to his own with a swipe, he was back at waving the melting cream under Joachim's nose a second later. “Just try it.”
“You are acting very strange today, Kitten.” Joachim eyed him suspiciously now, but still bent to comply as if he already knew Alucard was set to be stubborn about the whole affair. “This feels like a trap of some kind...”
The light, quick touch of a pale pink tongue was barely registered before the Vampyre was back straight, tilting his head as he assessed the flavour. “Tasty, right?”
“It is quite nice, yes.” Mercury widened a touch when Alucard popped his index into his own mouth to suck the remnant off Joachim had left, but nothing else was made of the unusual exchange. “You should rest tomorrow. You are not acting like your normal self.”
“You look lovely today.”
Joachim froze up, Trevor's green-light compliment having been delivered in Alucard's deeper, huskier timbre seemingly robbed the Vampyre of his next sentence. Tugging and pulling the forcibly borrowed coat closed more tightly, the elder demon shifted restlessly in place for a touch longer than Alucard could brush off as simple embarrassment, but did finally managed a quick, hushed, and per his overbearing demi-demon instructor of such lessons, suitably succinct reply. “Thank you.”
Gesturing towards the drink and pasty, he offered his gratitude as well. “Thank you for thinking of me. This was very kind.”
“I am always thinking of you, Kitten.” It was a standard reply Joachim gave frequently in response to all sorts of comments, benign and sarcastic Alucard had made over the years, but this time it just seemed like the plain and simple truth. Joachim was indeed always thinking of him. Alucard's well-being and needs consistently placed before the elder demon's own. Often, it seemed everyone's needs were prioritized but his own. Selfless acts of love, each time the demon was in service to their family... Such loyalty, devotion and care for which Alucard had repaid the commitment by calling Joachim a butler recently. And his tax man.
“I've missed you all.”
“Tomorrow, Kitten... It's a Sunday as well, so perfect opportunity for you to recuperate. Perhaps it's a week late, but the Rabbit and your usual routines and sexual antics may finally resume. I look forward to your positive effects upon Bunny's unchecked lust. While you are absent, he stinks up the homestead with his unfulfilled desires, I'll have you know.”
Good to know I contribute more than just finances to the household...Still, it did not seem like Joachim was understanding the significant anomaly he was confessing to. His sudden and persistent bout of homesickness slipping under the demon's radar.
“I missed you all, Joachim. All of you. My office has been a revolving door and I've been in more meetings than I can count and somehow... It was... Lonely.” Insisting earnestly, he turned to face the demon full on instead of their shared bleak parking lot landscape. “I missed you.”
“You have a phone.”
“You could have called too.”
“You do not tolerate when I call without reason or emergency, Kitten. It disturbs your workflow.”
“That's not...” He stopped himself short right then. Joachim was not wrong. He had said 'pointless' calls were a needless distraction verbatim on several occasions. Unless Leila was dying, whatever it was could wait until he got home. Or scheduled a personal call. “That was... A different me, okay. One who wasn't doing as well as I thought. So just... Forget that guy's rules and stipulations going forward. He wouldn't have been capable of missing you, and he's a dipshit asshole for that. Missing one another should be more than a valid reason to reach out.”
“Duly noted.”
“That's... all?”
“Yes? Message received.”
“You didn't... Did you...” Why was it suddenly so awkward to speak? “Did you miss me?”
“Again... I feel like you are setting some form of a trap or snare for me.” Joachim hedged. “Bunny's begun to sulk progressively the longer you stay away and whether your believe it or not, even Leila asked after you in a roundabout way. I have kept them sufficiently occupied through other means and that has eased the Little One's dour mood swings as much as could be controlled outside your return. The promise of coming here to see you tomorrow is eagerly anticipated. So yes, your lack of presence in our home has been felt, and missed.”
“...Did you?”
“You do not like it when I admit to that, Kitten...” Joachim inhaled. “Too much pointless sentimentality when I know you are alive and well and bound to return in your own time.” Then, he exhaled forcefully, locking eyes with Alucard to bite, suspected trap or not. “On top of always thinking of you, I am always missing you as well, Kitten. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
I think so...
There was another lengthy stretch of silence, concluded only once Joachim decided the conversation had come to a close and his errand completed. Ensure busy 'Kitten' was fed a snack. Checkmark. What was next on the agenda, who could say? In all likelihood it was feeding the rest of their family followed by washing yet more goddamned dishes. “It is quiet here right now. Try to get a meditative rest in, Adrian. You are acting in a vulnerable and erratic manner that's quite unlike you, and a touch concerning.” Spoken while pushing the Dhampyre into the closest chair, Joachim handed him his treats and allowed the simple glamour to settle over his mercury features. A bygone Joachim that Alucard would never know, and the Dhampyre had only belatedly realized just how grateful he was for that. “I shall return with your Hunter.”
Alucard was alone again.
The latte in hand was held tight, but the warmth was already fading.
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