Ashes & Blood

by MoonviewRising

Summary:

When word of the Belmont Massacre had spread, there was a myriad of reactions.

For many, the initial reaction was joy. Creatures of the Night saw it as justice. And while some were upset by the fact that they hadn’t been the ones to exact vengeance themselves, their anger was overshadowed by the relief that there would no longer be any hunters coming after their hides. That the very abominations that haunted them had been slaughtered by the humans they swore to protect. It was almost poetic. As for those who believed the Church, their death came with the satisfaction that they had rid the world of Satan’s followers. That they had enacted God’s will and rid the world of monstrous heretics.

But, there was one who was not celebrating the massacre. One who many believed had every right to celebrate the death of his greatest enemies.

Instead, Vlad Dracula Tepes stood in the smoldering wreckage of the once grand estate. Mourning what could have been.

Chapter 1: Smoldering Ruins

A/N: Hey everyone, I know I have other stories I really need to be working on…Buuut, I got this idea in my head after I began rewatching Castlevania preceding the release of the new series & well…now I have a new momentary hyperfixation.

It really doesn’t help that I can’t find many stories with this concept that I want to read. So I decided to give writing one of my own a swing. Anyways, I don’t own Castlevania or any of its characters.

When word of the Belmont Massacre had spread, there was a myriad of reactions.

For many, the initial reaction was joy. Creatures of the Night saw it as justice. And while some were upset by the fact that they hadn’t been the ones to exact vengeance themselves, their anger was overshadowed by the relief that there would no longer be any hunters coming after their hides. That the very abominations that haunted them had been slaughtered by the humans they swore to protect. It was almost poetic. As for those who believed the Church, their death came with the satisfaction that they had rid the world of Satan’s followers. That they had enacted God’s will and rid the world of monstrous heretics.

However, there was one who was not celebrating the massacre. One who many believed had every right to celebrate the death of his greatest enemies.

Instead, Vlad Dracula Tepes stood in the smoldering wreckage of the once grand estate. Nose wrinkling at the scent of holy blood mixing with the stench of burnt flesh lingering in the air.

For all intents and purposes, he should be celebrating. At long last, the Belmonts, his greatest rivals, the biggest group of stubborn cockroaches that refused to die, had been eradicated from the world. No longer would they threaten his people. No longer would they interfere with any of his plans. No longer would he have to worry about them finding his family and slaughtering them as they had so many of his kin. He should be happy.

And, yet, he couldn’t help but feel his unbeating heart twist with grief.

They were gone.

As much as they annoyed him. As many times as they had drawn his ire by interfering in his kingdom. As many times as he wanted to wipe them out himself—which he’d had plenty of opportunities to do. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy them.

How could he? After all, they were the last thing he had left of him.

They were all that remained of his oldest friend, his once best friend, his brother, Leon.

It had stung when the blonde had refused to join him in immortality. To hear that he had sworn not only himself, but his descendants to slaying him and the rest of his kind.

But, it wasn’t like he could say that he didn’t understand his choice. As crass as the blonde knight had been at times, he had always been stupidly selfless. Never afraid to do what was right, consequences be damned. Always willing to sacrifice himself to help others.

He had known from the beginning of their shared journey that convincing the knight to join him was a long shot. Hoping, that maybe, for once, his friend would act on one moment of selfishness and take his hand.

However, that knowledge didn’t mean that the inevitable rejection hadn’t felt like a stake to the heart.

At least by observing his descendants, the immortal had been able to see some part of his friend live on. Because every now and then he’d see Leon’s characteristic smirk in one of the kids as they learned to spar. Other times he’d spot the same disappointed or perplexed look in one of girls as one of their brothers explained some ridiculous plan of theirs. Sometimes he’d be lucky to observe the same intense look of concentration as one of their parents taught them a new skill.

But, what he saw most often was the one thing that still hurt no matter how many times he saw it. And it was the one thing that consistently kept him from wiping the accursed bloodline out time and time again.

That stupid bleeding heart.

The exact same one that had kept Leon from joining him. One so much like the one his beloved Lisa had beating in her chest. The heart that made them seem so incapable of leaving others in need even at the expense of themselves.

It was one of the few—if only redeeming quality humans had.

Which was why he was here now. Standing in the ruins of the once grand manor. Not celebrating. But mourning.

Mourning how things could’ve been had Leon had just been selfish for once in his life and joined him. Mourning the loss of some of the very few truly selfless humans. Ones who consistently put their lives on the line for those who did not deserve it whatsoever.

Sure, many creatures of the night saw the hunters as demons, as monsters. But Dracula knew better. Belmonts, as ruthless and relentless as they were, did not attack without provocation. Without reason or cause.

Because, at the end of the day, they were still Leon’s brood. And, like him, they hunted those who sought to hurt others.

If his former friend’s lineage had ever suspected something like this could ever happen, there was no doubt in his mind that they had expected it to be from the monsters they hunted. Not from the so-called innocents they had sworn to protect.

Though, it appeared, that despite the surprise of the betrayal, the hunters had not gone quietly. No, more than likely they had done it the way all Belmonts had: fighting, kicking, biting, and making sure as hell to take as many of their attackers as possible with them.

Something of which they appeared to succeed in as he continued to spot the bodies of peasants and priests scattered throughout the property. Their blood long soaked into the stones and mud. All that remained being their maggot-ridden corpses.

So much for doing the Lord’s Holy Work.

Bastards couldn’t even be bothered to bury their loyal dogs.

A fitting end for those ignorant enough to turn on the only thing protecting them from the hordes of night creatures just jumping for the chance to tear through towns without fear of retribution.

Still, what was strange was that he had yet to find the bodies of any Belmonts. He would’ve heard of their survival. Both the Church’s men and his own would have been lamenting had the eradication failed. So, the question remained: what happened to their corpses?

The Church wouldn’t have stayed to bury the bodies in unmarked graves. No. They would’ve made a demonstration of them. The same way for centuries Dracula had been making examples of those who had dared cross his path.

A reminder of the fate that would be shared should they dare follow the same path.

It was a way to instill fear. A way to stay in power. A way to maintain control over those they subjugated.

And to maintain that they wouldn’t have taken the Belmonts without burying their dead. No, people would’ve rioted had the heroes who sacrificed their lives doing the Lord’s work weren’t remembered with honor and given a proper burial.

So, if the Church hadn’t moved them, who did?

Surely it could not have been one of his own subjects? Even with how long it had taken the news to reach his palace, his powers should’ve ensured that he was the first to arrive. And that was assuming that one of them had even had the balls to take a step onto the blessed grounds.

No. He would’ve heard about their bodies being put on display or sold to the highest bidder in the Night Market if one of his subjects had taken them.

Which meant, someone else had had to have move the bodies. But who? All allies of the hunters had been massacred alongside them. And those who believed the Church’s lies wouldn’t have felt an inkling of remorse. At least not enough to come back and bury them without burying their comrades.

So, who else would be left to bury the bodies?

A twig snapped nearby, causing the vampire to freeze. His scarlet gaze scanning the nearby brush that had avoided being engulfed by the flames. He could hear it. A heartbeat. Too loud to be any small animal.

Perhaps it belonged to the would-be body snatcher?

Striding towards it, Vlad couldn’t help but notice that the scent of spilt holy blood was stronger the closer he got. All but confirming his suspicions that this had been where the bodies had been taken.

The heartbeat grew faster as he approached, showing its owner’s fear.

Good. They should be afraid. Even if they had buried the bodies, that didn’t mean it would be enough to escape his wrath. This land had not yet had its last taste of blood. Because if they had known of the massacre, they had done nothing to stop it. And for that crime alone, they were as guilty as the ones of slew them.

Stepping into a small clearing, he expected to find his prey. But, instead, he found several poorly dug, shallow graves. Each one marked with poorly made crosses formed with charred wood and weapons.

Yet, he could still hear the rapid heartbeat of the one who buried them in the clearing with him. But that couldn’t be true, unless…

Teleporting across the clearing as the leaves rustled above, he watched as a scrawny frame landed where he had previously been. A familiar whip in hand and the stench of holy blood seeping into his clothes from barely healed wounds concealed by a too large cloak.

A Belmont.

Of course one of them survived.

Based on the size of the graves and when he last checked in on the family, he would bet that the boy—because that was what he was, a mere child likely no older than his own son—was the youngest of the current brood. Somehow, he had been the one to survive.

If only barely by the looks of him.

There was a nasty gash over his left eye, still caked with dried blood and swollen shut with infection. His other eye—practically the same shade of blue as Leon’s—glazed with a mixture of sickness and stubbornness. Small burns marred his trembling arms, creating a patchwork of irritated reddened skin. Likely infected as well. Not to mention the multitude of cuts littering his frame. Most of which seemed to be coming from his back if the scent and the stains on his clothes were any indication.

So, he had been the one to bury the bodies. Well, then, it appeared that the pup had a stay of execution…for now.

“G-Go away!” the boy hissed, knuckles turning white as he clutched the whip. “Fuck off! Don’t think I won’t kill you!”

At that, Vlad could barely suppress an amused huff. The boy looked like he could barely stay upright, let alone have the strength needed to take him out. “Really?” he mused, taking a step towards the baby Belmont. Barely restraining his smirk as the child took a hesitant step back but still refused to back down. Pale sky blues burning with determination as he stood between him and the graves of his fallen family. “You really think you can defeat me child?”

“I’ll take you out even if I die too!” he snarled challengingly. Swinging his whip in an attempt to intimidate him.

It might’ve succeeded had he not seen generations of his ancestors wield it with far more expertise.

More than likely his father had only just started teaching him how to use it.

A small smile pulled at his lip. That fearlessness definitely came from Leon. “Do you know who I am, boy?” he questioned, stepping closer.

This time, the young Belmont didn’t back away. “I don’t care if you’re a vampire or even a fucking priest. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll fucking kill you!”

For a child that looked to be just about his son’s age, he certainly had a mouth on him. Lisa would throw a fit if their sweet Adrian ever spoke to either of them like this.

Though…perhaps not. He had seen his love interact with children from similar such as this one. Beaten and bruised half to death. Snapping and snarling even at hands that only sought to help and heal. No doubt she would treat this one just the same.

Assuming he could get him to cooperate before he eventually passed out from exhaustion.

Because whether he liked it or not, he refused to let the pup die. If not out of his own personal selfishness to keep what he had left of Leon close, then out of the potential use the boy could be. Keeping the last of the Belmonts under his thumb would not only serve as a reminder of his power, but it would certainly make potential usurpers second guess themselves. It would also keep his opponents from using the young hunter against him in the future.

Of course, that all depended on getting the little one to see he was not his enemy right now.

“Relax little Belmont. I have no intention of harming you this night.”

Unsurprisingly, the boy didn’t believe him. Instead, messily swinging his whip in another vain attempt to drive him off, little body visibly shaking from the strain of keeping himself upright. “Fuck off!”

Demons of Hell, where was Lisa when he needed her? She could probably calm the child down. Because at this rate, he was either going to wait for him to pass out or take him by force. Neither seemed very appealing, but it wasn’t like he was leaving him much choice. The kid was too stubborn for his own good.

Just like Leon.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he said, stepping closer. “Tell me, little hunter, how do you think you’re going to survive out there?”

The boy jolted, visibly surprised by the question. “I…I can hunt. I can fight,” he stammered, “I’ll manage.”

In a flash, Vlad closed the distance between them, grasping his wrists before he could try to attack him. “Are you sure about that?”

“V-Vampire.”

The obvious alarm brought a smirk to the vampire king’s face. The pup must’ve truly been out of it had he not realized what he was. Perhaps disoriented from pain and blood loss? Or perhaps this was the runt of the litter? Not yet fully grown into the abilities of his bloodline.

“Yes, Belmont, I am Vlad Dracula Tepes. And I have a vested interest in your survival.”

Notes:

Legal Stuff: I do not permit the use of any of my works in AI training &/or other similar projects.

Chapter 2: Dying Embers

A/N: Hey everyone, welcome back. I know I should be working on my other stories, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head, and I couldn’t find enough stories with this concept to satisfy it. So, here I am.

By the way, sorry if some of the characters seem OOC, I haven’t written anything for this fandom before & I’m trying to imagine how’d they’d be before the series. So yeah, doing my best, but I can’t say that it’ll be completely accurate. Remember, I don’t own Castlevania nor its characters.

Vlad Dracula Tepes.

Vlad Fucking Dracula was kneeling before him, holding him hostage.

The fucking vampire king had just declared he had an interest in his survival.

Why? He had every reason to kill him. His family had been hunting him for centuries. Their family had literally started hunting vampires in order to kill him. So why in God’s name would the vampire be interested in his survival? Shouldn’t he be wanting to kill him and eradicate them like the Church had?

Red eyes continued to bore into his own. Gleaming with an emotion he couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t anger or hatred—something that would be expected from a being that hated his guts.

Or maybe that was just his imagination due to his head wound? He had lost a lot of blood. Not to mention he hadn’t slept in…how long had it been? A couple days maybe? He didn’t remember much beyond the constant anxiety he felt while burying the remains of his family. Constantly worried that the Church would come back to finish the job and desecrate his family home once more.

He could be hallucinating.

“I assure you, little hunter, I am very much real,” the vampire spoke again, making the young teen wince as he realized he must’ve spoken that aloud.

A taloned hand encased both his wrists, allowing the other to pluck his father’s whip—his only weapon—from his hands with little effort. Making the boy feel exposed as he was left unarmed and defenseless.

“And, if I wanted you dead, I would’ve ripped out your throat already.”

His heart plummeted.

Dracula didn’t want him dead…then what did he want from him? Why keep him alive? Would he be kept as a pet? Like those innocents his family would talk about finding during their hunts. Kept in cages and bound will collars and chains. Forced to serve as livestock and blood bags.

If so, then he’d rather die than let that happen.

The hand encasing his wrists tightened as he began to struggle. Doing his best with what little strength he had left to break free of his bonds. His efforts earned an irritated sigh escaped the beast before him as another clawed hand reached up to cup his cheek. “Stop.”

Another wave of exhaustion ran through his tired body. Muscles trembling violently as he continued to hold the vampire’s gaze.

He…he knew what this was. What Dracula was doing to him. His parents had taught him about it: the power that allowed the bloodsuckers to control their victims before they bit them, compulsion. They used it to enthrall their targets. To make them pliant and cooperative. At least before the venom in their bite did the work in relaxing their prey for them.

Now, he may not have had as much practice as his siblings, but he knew how to break it. He needed to know how if he ever wanted to become a hunter…but Christ, he was so fucking tired.

Sleep sounded fucking amazing right now. Better than any other option currently available to him. Because at least then he would be able to ignore the agony of his newfound situation.

And, maybe if he was lucky, he wouldn’t wake up. Maybe then, he’d get to see his family again.

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He wanted his mom. He wanted his dad. He wanted his big brothers and sisters. He wanted their warm hugs and gentle reassurances. He would do anything to have any of them here with him.

But they weren’t here. The Church had killed them. And nothing was going to bring them back.

Instead, he was here. Alone. Trapped with his family’s greatest enemy. Who, for some reason, hadn’t killed him yet.

Sure, the vampire may’ve said he wasn’t going to kill him, but only an idiot would trust such a parasite. Undoubtedly it would only be a matter of time before the monster would sink its fangs into his throat.

And, as much as the thought terrified him, he was resigned to his fate. It was the only way he would ever see his family again anyways.

Besides, even if he did fight back, it wasn’t like he could do much beyond stave off the inevitable. His weapons were gone, his hands were bound, and he was fucking exhausted.

It wasn’t like he was strong enough to fight back anyways. His attempts from a few moments ago just proved that. The battle and its aftermath had taken everything out of him. Not to mention his entire body hadn’t stopped screaming at him with different levels of pain from cuts, bruises, burns, and what he was pretty sure was a sprained ankle.

Maybe if he cooperated then the vampire would be merciful and make it quick.

Sharp claws entangled in his hair, lightly scraping his scalp and sending a light tingle down his spine. Almost instantly, his straining muscles gave out, causing him to collapse into the massive arms now encircling him.

The vampire was warm. Warmer than he thought it would be. It was much nicer in comparison to the cold skin of his family’s bodies. Much more comforting than the cold of the damp, ashy ground or the blood-soaked fur of his big brother’s tattered cloak.

“There you go, little hunter,” Dracula murmured gently, red eyes seeming to glow brighter the longer the boy allowed himself to meet their gaze. His body unconsciously curling towards the warmth supporting most his weight. “Sleep now.”

Letting himself fall under the compulsion, Trevor Belmont closed his eyes and fell into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness. Silently hoping that he wouldn’t wake up again.

-.-

Dracula watched silently as the Belmont boy finally went limp in his arms. Looking much younger now that he was sound asleep, the stress and tension gone from his small frame.

Now, he didn’t necessarily need to enthrall the boy, especially given the effort it had taken. The little one had clearly been about to crash. But he figured it wouldn’t hurt to expedite the process.

Belmonts were always stupidly difficult to entrance. Whether it was a result of their holy blood or just pure spite, he wasn’t sure. But rarely was he able to control one for any longer than a minute or two at most. And the child had been no exception to this.

Yes, he had been easier than others of his lineage that had crossed his path in the past few centuries. However, that was likely the product of both his age and exhaustion. Poor pup was mere moments from passing out as it was, even without his intervention.

Still, despite this, the vampire couldn’t help but release a tired sigh. It was clear that even with his reassurances the little hunter did not believe him. Not that Vlad was necessarily surprised, they had little reason to trust one another. After all, the feud between himself and the boy’s family had spanned centuries.

And, maybe had they met another time, Dracula would have confirmed the boy’s fears. Drained him of every drop of holy blood coursing through his veins. Used his corpse as a reminder of the price of crossing him to the rest of his insufferable family.

But now the child was the last remaining of his line. The last thing he had of Leon.

And for that alone, his life would be spared.

Dropping the child’s hands into his lap, Vlad carefully plucked the whip from the mud. Hissing lightly as the consecrated weapon burned against his skin. It didn’t hurt as bad as the infamous Morningstar whip would have, but it still stung. Though it thankfully didn’t last long as the weapon was promptly wrapped in the boy’s massive cloak and deposited in his lap.

More than likely the holy weapon left a small burn that would take a day or two to heal at most. Assuming Lisa didn’t try anything crazy to heal it again like she did last time he accidentally got himself injured by a holy weapon.

That had not ended well.

Hopefully she would be too preoccupied with the boy this time around. Perhaps then he would be lucky and manage to avoid her fussing.

Carefully adjusting his grip on the sleeping pup, Vlad cradled the small, injured body close to his chest as he slowly rose to his full height. Doing his best to avoid jostling the little one too much and risk exacerbating his injuries further.

Lisa was already going to be upset by his condition. The last thing he wanted was for her to scold him for making the baby Belmont’s injuries worse.

Still, it appeared that even after all the practice he’d had with carrying Adrian to bed, that his efforts weren’t entirely successful. Because, even in the throes of unconsciousness, the pup’s face screwed in pain. A soft, involuntary whimper escaping him as he turned slightly to press closer to him. Seeking comfort from any source in that way only an exhausted child could.

Thankfully though, it didn’t take long for the little one to settle again. Breathing growing slow as soft, soothing whispers seemed to ease the boy back into the safe embrace of a deep, dreamless sleep.

It was only once he was sure that the youngster wouldn’t stir again, that the vampire king turning his attention away from the boy to the plots before him. Wondering that if the knowledge that their only remaining child was now in his clutches made them turn in their shallow graves.

Only the depths of Hell knew he would be if Adrian had been in this boy’s position.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Belmonts. Nor do I particularly care,” Dracula spoke, his voice practically booming across the empty clearing, “but rest assured, your son is safe. Of that you have my word.”

As he teleported away, Vlad almost swore he heard the familiar disbelieving cackle of one Leon Belmont.

When they met again in the next life, that damn knight would owe him a drink for this.

-.-

Over the years she has stayed in the castle, Lisa had become quite used to seeing strange and fantastical things. Magic and monsters, demons and dark sorcerers, all sorts of things that would send many peasants run screaming for the hills. Though, at this point, it all had long since become normal to her.

Which is why she wasn’t surprised as her husband’s towering form materialized in front of her.

After the first week of her stay, that particular trick had lost its novelty. Just like many of his powers. And like some of those, this particular one had actually become exasperating following his numerous attempts to startle her in an attempt to satiate his boredom.

Not even bothering to turn her attention away from the book she was reading, she merely turned the page while chastising her husband, “No teleporting in the house.”

However, where normally Vlad would make a fondly annoyed sound followed by an apologetic kiss to her cheek, this time his voice held an air of desperation she hadn’t heard from him since Adrian was a baby, “Lisa.”

Head snapping up, her eyes widened as she saw a bloody bundle cradled in his arms. Almost instantly, her heart leapt to her throat. Because her first thought was that something had happened to their son. But, it didn’t take her long to remember that the boy was currently in the other room, playing chess with one of his guards. Which meant, that this was someone else. Someone else who was in need of her help. Someone, whom her husband had been worried enough for to bring directly to her.

While she was confused, Lisa opted to leave her questions for later. Instead shooting to her feet and flying to her husband’s side. Cradled tenderly in his arms, was a boy, probably the same age as their son.

The mere sight of him drew a small gasp from her. Poor thing looked like he’d been through hell.

“Quickly,” she said, picking up the hem of her skirt, running through the halls with her mate close behind her. Passing by one of the servants carrying a tray, she pointed at them, “Make sure Adrian stays put!”

Not waiting for their response, the couple continued making their way towards the medical chamber reserved only for her most serious cases.

So, while her husband set the child down, she made her way over to the basin, cleaning her hands thoroughly before even thinking of touching her patient, “How long has he been unconscious?”

“Not long. He passed out just a few moments before I came here.”

Ok. That wasn’t ideal, but it was good. Better than if he’d been unconscious for some time. At least this way she could see if Vlad had been able to glean anything from him relating to his condition before he passed out.

“And how was he? Before he collapsed?” she inquired, drying her hands before she strode over to the bedside to help her husband undress him so she could better look at his wounds. Not much effort was needed there. His clothes were practically in tatters.

“Disoriented. Exhausted. There’re some burns on his arms and some other wounds hidden by his clothes I could smell.”

She made a mental note to check for a possible concussion. But that would have to wait until she treated his other wounds. The injury to his eye was particularly concerning. It was hot to the touch and swollen with infection, making it hard to tell if the eye itself had been damaged as well. Hopefully it wasn’t, she would hate for such a young child to lose half his sight.

But, to her relief, as she wiped the blood away with a warm damp cloth, it appeared that the gash missed his eye for the most part. Only cutting across his brow and cheek instead. However, her relief was short lived as she turned her attention to his torso. Her heart clenching in sympathy as she took in the myriad of cuts and bruises littering his skin. Each one looking just as painful as the next.

Who could do this to a child?

And where the hell were is parents? Surely they must’ve been worried sick. Unless…

Unless his parents were the ones to do this to him.

Hopefully that was not the case. But there was no end to young patients she had seen who had had the misfortune of being born to those who did not deserve children. Just because she couldn’t imagine raising a hand to her own son didn’t mean that others felt the same way.

Shaking her head, Lisa did her best to discard the thoughts. At least until after she was done treating the boy. Right now, he needed her undivided attention.

Even if the presence of her husband was making that task particularly difficult.

Normally, whenever she had a patient, the man would make himself scarce. Save for when she had her most severe cases—the ones who needed to be brought to the castle for treatment. Patients who needed surgery or had very contagious diseases. That was the only time he would spend time around her patients.

So, the fact that this patient was neither and he was still there…it was strange. Though, she was not ungrateful for the extra help. It at least made things quicker.

But she did have questions that the man was going to answer one way or another.

Pulling out a bottle and a fresh clean towel from the shelf as Vlad wiped away the last of the blood, she set them down beside the boy. Quickly dousing the cloth in the disinfectant, Lisa murmured a soft apology before beginning to dab it against the child’s wounds.

The poor boy whimpered quietly in his sleep. Brows screwing together as she worked on cleaning his wounds so she could stitch them up. Despite this though, he fortunately remained sound asleep. Seeming to be soothed by the soft, reassuring whispers of her husband.

Thank God for little miracles.

Hopefully he would stay that way for a while longer. Because she had questions, and Vlad owed her some answers.

Chapter 3: Scattered Ashes

A/N: Hey everyone, welcome back. So, just finished binging all of Nocturne and damn, can’t wait for next season!
So, as you can see, I am still running with this story. Don’t really know where it’s going yet…but I guess we’ll find out. But, just so you know, this chapter isn’t very dialogue heavy; I just hope y’all still like it. Anyways, remember, I don’t own anything from Castlevania.

“Vlad…” Lisa spoke, her voice quiet as she closed the door to the room where they had settled the slumbering boy for the time being, “what happened?” She turned towards him, her brows furrowed in confusion, “You said you were just going to check out some rumors. How on Earth did that end with you bringing a half-dead child to me?”

“And here I thought you’d be happy to have me willingly bring a human to you for help?” he replied, hoping that this major step in learning to at least tolerate humans again would distract her for the time being. If only long enough to give him time to process everything that had just happened.

However, as usual, his wife did not let his deflections distract her from her goals. Instead, she marched towards him, looking up at him as fearlessly as she always had. “That may be true,” the woman remarked, putting her hands on her hips, “But it still doesn’t explain how the heck you managed to get into such a situation in the first place. You said you were using magic to teleport there. So, you can’t have gotten sidetracked along the way. What happened?”

Sighing, he took her hand, gently leading her to one of the spare chambers. The lights flickered to life as he sealed the door behind them. Giving them the privacy they would need for the long, grueling, painful conversation before him.

His wife watched him with worried eyes as he took her in his arms. Holding her close as he sat down on the bed, leaning back against the backboard and running his fingers through her messy golden hair.

It was moments like this he hated with a passion. The ones that reminded him of the pain of mortality. Of how, like sweet Elisabetha, his beloved fiery Lisa would one day meet her end. Especially since, like Leon so many centuries ago, she had adamantly refused to be turned.

Maybe one day he would be able to talk the impossibly stubborn woman into joining him in the shadows completely. But, until then, he would have to suffer the knowledge that if something ever went wrong, his wife would once again be taken from him. And if that ever happened…losing Beth had driven him to turn his back on God, losing Lisa…if anything ever happened to her, not even Jesus Christ himself would be able to stop him from making the world feel his pain before he found a way to join her in the afterlife.

“They’re gone,” he finally spoke. Nearly choking out the words at the mere idea that, even for a moment, he had truly lost the last thing Leon had left in this world. That there had almost been a time where he never would have been able to see any trace of his oldest friend left in those who still carried his blood.

Against his chest, his wife shifted, sitting up to reach up and cup his cheek. Her bright blues swimming with concern, “Who’s gone my love?”

“The Belmonts.”

“The…Belmonts?” she repeated, giving him a confused yet incredulous look. “You mean the hunters? The ones you warned me and Adrian about too many times to count?”

“Yes.”

“Vlad…what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?”

Taking a deep breath, Vlad looked up at the ceiling. Trying to think of the best way to explain the situation at hand. Despite having been married for over a decade and a half, there was still much of his past that Lisa did not know. Between teaching her to be a doctor, his travels in the human realm, managing his court, and raising their son they hadn’t much time to discuss everything from all his centuries of life. Of course, he told her bits and pieces. Much of it involving his time in the Templar and early years as a vampire.

Hell, she even knew about his first wife.

And while she hadn’t necessarily been enthused about the information, she had at least let him explain himself. Let him show her that while she reminded him of her at times, there were many ways in which they were different. Beth had been a product of her time and status: a demure woman who was shy and soft spoken. She was beautiful and graceful yes, but she had never been one to outright argue against him the way Lisa would.

Lisa was outspoken and headstrong in a way his first wife never would have dared to be. She was as stubborn as a goddamn Belmont too. She may not have been artistic in the way Beth had been, but she practically glowed with excitement anytime she learned something new in medicine or just science in general.

Both women were remarkable in their own way. And for that he loved them and would continue to do so for the rest of eternity.

However, he couldn’t necessarily say that Lisa would feel the same way after this.

Because he had never told her the full story of how he became a vampire. He told her of times before and after being turned, he told her about his friends back then—making sure to avoid mentioning them by name—but he had never mentioned how exactly he’d been turned.

Thankfully, his love had never asked. Likely assuming that it had been far too painful for him to remember.

And it was, just not for the reason she thought.

“Did I ever tell you how the feud between myself and their family began?” he finally spoke.

Lisa’s brows furrowed, her head tilting slightly. No doubt trying to figure out where he was going with this. “No. But what does it—”

“Everything,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close again. “It has to do with everything. And you deserve to know.”

Feeling her curious gaze on him, Vlad began to tell the story of one Mathias Cronqvist. Of how he’d been fortunate enough to be born into a noble house in the late eleventh century. How he would train in alchemy like his parents, their studies only permitted under the watchful eye of the Church.

He explained how he met his future wife when he was ten. Meeting her at one of the many balls he’d been forcibly dragged to. He got to tell her how they came to know one another and how their eventual marriage had been arranged between their families.

Vlad told her of how he’d been sent to learn how to be a knight like his father before him. Learning only then of how he’d had an apparent knack for strategy and drawing battle plans. Meaning that where other knights would spend their time learning how to wield a sword, he learned where to direct them. Where they had been grabbing drinks and making friends, he had been alone in the library. Learning how to mix his knowledge of alchemy with the tactics he had developed.

It was then his unbeating heart twisted painfully in his chest as he finally introduced Leon by name for the first time.

Because they had met during one of those long nights he had spent in the library. They had both only been thirteen summers at the time. Each wrapped up in duties so different their paths should’ve never crossed until they were much older. And yet, that hadn’t stopped the pretty blonde squire from all but barreling over him when rushing to get something for the knight he’d been serving. Singlehandedly managing to knock every single one of Mathias’s books to the floor.

Naturally, Leon, being the good-natured idiot he was, stopped to help clean up the mess he’d inadvertently created. Rambling out apologies and offering ways to pay him back for the trouble faster than he could think.

Mathias had only been able to get him to shut up by flicking him between the eyes.

Apparently, he’d been there to procure some maps as his mentor would participate in what would be the first crusade. And why was he rushing? Because the dumbass had somehow managed to get himself wrangled into polishing the armor and sharpening the swords of three other knights. Something which had taken up several hours of his time and made him run late on his chores.

At the time, Mathias couldn’t even comprehend as to how exactly someone had managed to get themselves into such a situation. But now, looking back on it, Vlad would say it more than likely had been a punishment as the result of Leon standing up against something he disagreed with.

After all, knights back then had been just as corrupt as the current Church officials.

Guess some things never changed.

Still, he couldn’t help but look back on the memory of how he had met the man who would one day be his closest friend fondly. Even if they did spend three hours trying to find the maps he needed only to learn that someone else had gotten them for the knight earlier.

Mathias had had to flick Leon again because he started apologizing so much for wasting his time like that.

And that had only been the first of many instances in which his involvement with the blonde had gotten him into trouble. Many, many instances.

How one person could manage to singlehandedly get themselves into all the situations Leon did, Vlad would never know. Even now it still perplexed him. His only plausible theory was that it must’ve been a genetic trait because his descendants had certainly made an effort to get in as much trouble as he did.

Honestly, as much as he kept an eye on the Belmonts to see some of his old friend live on, he watched them just as much out of sheer amazement that they hadn’t somehow managed to kill themselves yet. Because if it wasn’t for the obvious scent of their holy blood, Vlad might’ve believed them to be some other form of supernatural creature.

Nothing human could walk away from half the shit Belmonts did simply because their sibling had dared say they couldn’t.

Maybe they were descended from Nephilim? It would explain the holy blood and his seeming ability to tear through armies as if they were paper. It also explained his inexplicit inability to be selfish. Well…most the time, at least. Lord only knew how Leon had been able to consistently steal some of the finest wines from the knights without them ever catching on. And Hell only knew why he kept doing it, because Leon could not hold his liquor. Not at all. The man was the lightest lightweight he’d ever seen.

But he was getting offtrack. Either way, early in his budding friendship with the squire, Mathias had learned one important thing: Leon was simultaneously the luckiest and unluckiest person in the world. The man could manage to get himself involved in almost every catastrophe possible and still manage to come out completely unscathed.

And when they’d been assigned to the same squadron for their various campaigns some years later, everyone had assumed it was Mathias’s brilliant strategies alone that had been the reason for their constant victories. In reality, it was because he had learned how to take advantage of Leon’s bullshit when it happened. Good or bad.

They had been coming off one such victory when he received the news about Beth. About how she’d fallen ill and that the healers—mere charlatans in reality—hadn’t been able to help her.

She had died a month prior and no one had told him.

Mathias had been going on, completely oblivious. Thinking his prayers for her safety would be enough to protect her in his absence.

His wife had died alone and scared because the Church had actually given orders to not tell him of the fact that she had fallen ill.

Why? Because they were more concerned that he would have left the campaign. Disregarding the fact that, despite his terrible luck, Leon was more than capable of taking command in his stead.

That had been the day he’d lost his faith in God.

Because his wife had been gone, and all the while God had continued to let Mathias pray for his beloved’s protection. Not even giving him a sign that something was even remotely wrong back home. And instead let him hear the devastating news from a bishop who’d been more interested in the nearby brothel than his duties.

After that, it became clear that if he was real the Lord Almighty took more than he gave. Consistently failing to answer the desperate prayers of his followers. Letting the most devout suffer while those who masqueraded as holy people got to line their pockets and live in sin and luxury on the backs of others.

And that was when he vowed his revenge. To find a way to live forever to spite God in retribution. When he dove deeper into researching the occult and dark magic than the Church had ever allowed him to do before. That was the day Vlad Dracula had been born and Mathias Cronqvist died.

Little did he know that that was also the day he had unknowingly started down the path that would eventually destroy his friendship with Leon beyond any hope of repair.

As it wouldn’t be long before he learned about vampires. About how to find them. How to become one without being turned.

So, when he learned of Walter Bernhard’s game, he had seen an opportunity. Instead of thinking things through, he had instead decided to use Leon—his closest friend, a man he trusted with his life—like a mere tool to clear the way for him.

Mathias had betrayed Leon. He had told Walter Bernhard of the knight’s prowess. Of how he would be an excellent challenger in his game. Enticing the ancient vampire to take Sara. Predictably prompting the blonde to chase after in an attempt to save his love.

It had been a stupid decision.

To betray Leon like that…it was the biggest mistake of his life.

It was no secret that Bernhard made a habit of turning those he used to lure his victims to play his game. In fact, it was a fact that Vlad had been relying on. He had known Leon would have stopped at nothing to save his fiancée. And with the knight at the peak of his brutality and ruthlessness, there had been no doubt in his mind that Bernhard would have fallen in his wake. Allowing Vlad to step in and take the stone that enabled him to become who he was today. The crux of his plan had relied on the moment Leon discovered that Sara had been turned. That once he realized what happened, the pretty blonde would be incapable of leaving his love to spend eternity alone. And, in that moment, Leon would have allowed himself to be turned. Either by Sara or Vlad, it wouldn’t have mattered. Sure, Vlad may’ve wanted to turn the pretty blonde himself. But, at the end of the day, all the mattered was the fact that his best friend would’ve been with him.

This way, Vlad wouldn’t have had to lose anyone he cared about ever again.

That was how things were supposed to go.

However, that had all gone out the proverbial window when Sara had made the choice to sacrifice herself. When she had given her life to craft a weapon so powerful no weapon forged by the Belmont clan since has even stood close to it: the Morningstar Whip.

It was a weapon made to kill the strongest of demons.

And it was a weapon made for a monster Vlad had created.

With Sara gone, there had been nothing to stop Leon from turning on him the moment Bernhard revealed everything in his final breath. In that moment, Leon had dedicated his life to hunting vampires. In that moment, their friendship had been destroyed beyond hope of recognition. Leaving nothing behind but a promise of revenge and the dreams of what could’ve been.

However, Leon had refused to kill Vlad. He’d come pretty fucking close to it a few times, yes. But he never delivered the final blow. Why? Because, while the blonde had been known for his seemingly endless kindness and unwavering loyalty, his friend had been just as capable of unspeakable cruelty.

And the knight had wanted to punish the new vampire in the cruelest way he knew how: by making Vlad lived the rest of eternity alone. To know that everyone the man had ever cared for would one day die a mortal death, cursing his name.

That was why he never delivered the killing blow.

Because Leon had known that his punishment was far more painful than death ever would be.

“So,” Lisa spoke up for the first time since he’d began his tale, “that’s how…” She sighed, sitting up and running her fingers through her tousled hair, “I understand you were angry, but…My God, Vlad.”

Dracula looked away, unable to meet her disappointed gaze. He wondered how mad she would be if he ever mentioned how he had tried to turn the blonde knight by force once.

She would probably slap him.

“I know now what I did was wrong,” he spoke softly, moving a hand towards hers. Close enough to let her know it was there, but not enough to touch. Waiting for her to be the one to initiate contact. “And I will never forgive myself for it. That is why I respected your wishes, when you said you didn’t want to be turned.”

Lisa looked at him, her beautiful blue eyes glistening with sorrow. “Vlad, I can’t say that I’m happy to hear the full story. Frankly I can’t even begin to understand your thought process behind all of it. But,” her fingers lightly brushed his own, “while it will take me a while to wrap my head around all this, I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me.” She pulled her hand back, “Still, as many questions as I still have, none of this explains why you came home with a half-dead child?”

“…For centuries, I have kept an eye on Leon’s family,” Vlad confessed. “As much as they annoyed me, they were still all I had left of him.”

The blonde woman raised a brow. “You’re dodging the question.”

“He’s a Belmont, Lisa.”

His wife paused, understanding flickering across her face before it was replaced by confusion. “So why bring him here? Surely his family could treat his wounds? They’re hunters, I’m sure they’ve had much worse.”

“Because they’re all dead,” Dracula hissed, nearly baring his fangs. “That boy is the last one.”

Drawing a breath, the vampire felt his love’s warm fingers interlace with his, squeezing reassuringly. “What happened? Surely one of your subjects hadn’t made a move without—”

“It was the Church,” he growled, rising from his spot before he did something rash. “Those…monsters slaughtered them all.” He gave a bitter laugh, running his fingers through his hair as he began to pace, “They accused them of practicing black magic of all things. Those priests murdered the only people who had shed their blood, sweat, and tears for humanity fighting all manner of night creatures over and over again out of the pure goodness of their hearts!” His claws raked across the wallpaper as he lashed out in rage. Wishing he could tear the ones who ordered the massacre limb from limb and shove them on a pike himself. Taking a few breaths to calm himself, Vlad looked out the nearby window, ignoring the damp, sticky feeling on his cheeks. “I found the boy there, alone…I couldn’t leave him there for the Church to find. That is why I brought him here, Lisa,” he turned to her, “…I can’t lose him again.”

Chapter 4: Stray Sparks

A/N: Hey everyone, welcome back. Glad to see y’all’re still enjoying the story. Sorry if some of the characters are OOC, I haven’t really worked in this fandom before. Anyways, remember, I just own the story, nothing from Castlevania is mine.

His parents were acting strange.

Well, they always acted strange. But they were being weirder than usual.

First of all, his dad, a man who barely tolerated humans at the best of times, had brought a patient for his mother to treat. Something which was completely unheard of.

Furthermore, his parents had tried to confine him to the study. As overprotective as they could be at times, they rarely confined him to only one area of the palace. Sure, there were a few areas he was forbidden from entering without either of his parents present. But they only really limited his movement within the home if he was grounded or when some of the more…volatile members of his father’s court were visiting.

So, for them to insist Xipor keep him in one place…it was absurd and completely out of character for either of them.

Especially seeing as Adrian had helped his mother treat patients dozens of times. It wasn’t like there wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. And sure, maybe he was a little more delicate than other vampires his age because of his human heritage. But that didn’t change the fact that he was still several times more powerful than a normal human. So, it wasn’t like a patient lashing out and attempting to fight back would do anything to him. At most it would just leave a barely noticeable bruise that would be gone in less than a minute. Nor could it have been a sick patient either. Regardless of the fact that his wife was the best doctor in all or Europe and neither he nor his son could be afflicted by human diseases, his father wouldn’t have dared to bring someone who could carry plague into his home.

No. Something else was going on. And he was going to find out what.

Fortunately, he’d had plenty of experience escaping his minders.

If everything was going according to plan, then hopefully the servants assigned to babysit him would be on the opposite side of the castle. Thinking he was hiding in the library rather than creeping towards the medical wing. Trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Already he could hear the quiet murmur of his parents in one of the rooms. Quietly speaking to each other. From the sounds of it, it was mostly his dad speaking. Adrian couldn’t make out the exact words. But it wasn’t hard to assume that it was an explanation as to how he’d wound up in a situation that ended with him willingly bringing a human back to the castle.

Still, as much as he wanted to hear the story, he could always pester his father for it later. Right now, he was more curious about the patient themselves. With both his parents distracted, it would probably be the only chance he’d get to see what all the fuss was about.

Assuming his parents weren’t still in there with them.

Floating down the hall, he followed the scent of blood and medicine. Thankfully moving past the room where his parents were talking and to a different door further down the hall.

The soft rug muffled the sound of the teen’s boots hitting the ground as he landed. Still unable to maintain his levitation for long despite working on his endurance. His father said powers like that took time to develop, and while he understood it, that didn’t mean that his current limitations weren’t irritating.

But he didn’t let his current frustration with the sporadic development in his abilities distract him from his mission. All that mattered was that it lasted long enough to get him to his destination without getting discovered. He could be annoyed later. After he found out what had gotten his parents so wound up.

Gently pushing open the door, the teen cautiously peeked inside. For the most part, the room looked empty. It looked just like another dark, empty, unoccupied room in the massive palace.

If it weren’t for the small lump under the bed.

Curiosity piqued, the boy slipped inside, quietly closing the door behind him. Hoping his father was too engrossed in the conversation he was having with his mother to hear it. Otherwise, his visit was about to be cut a lot shorter than he wanted.

However, after waiting for a few moments, he didn’t hear any movement in the halls. No doors opening or closing. No stomping footsteps coming his way.

For now, it appeared that his activities were still going unnoticed.

Not one to waste opportunity when presented, Adrian crept up to the bedside. Raising a brow as he saw the source of all the fuss. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. But he certainly was expecting it to be something a lot more exciting than some random ragamuffin.

This was what all the fuss was about? Why?

It was just some random kid.

He’d seen his mom work with peasants like this hundreds of times. So, he didn’t see what the big deal was now. What about this boy had gotten his parents so worked up?

There wasn’t anything notably special about him. Sure, his blood smelled a little weird—like an almost too sweet scent. But that could’ve just been a side effect of one of his mother’s medicines. Or maybe even just his scent in general. Nothing to explain as to what all the fright was about.

“Seriously,” he muttered, bending down, and poking the stranger’s cheek, “what’s the big deal?”

The boy didn’t answer. Clearly still unconscious. But, maybe if he poked him enough, he could wake him.

After all, it had been a while since he’d been able to speak to someone his own age. Well, his own age chronologically speaking. Physically speaking, Adrian looked in his mid-teens because dhampir’s aged weirdly. Which was one of the many reasons he’d never been able to really play with any of the other village children whenever he went with his mother to Lupu.

Sure, there were some servants and other night creature children he got to play with, but it wasn’t the same. They were all worried about how he could help them. They were more concerned about the benefits his status and power could bring rather than actual friendship.

The kids in the village probably wouldn’t have cared about that. They didn’t seem to whenever the teen saw them playing from where he watched in the woods. At most they might’ve teased him for being a blueblood.

But, then again, he never got the chance to find out because he was always forbidden from playing with them.

So, perhaps, this one could be a suitable playmate. After all, someone that had the vampire king concerned enough to bring him here had to have something special about them.

“C’mon,” he grumbled, continuing to poke the other boy’s cheek. Trying to garner some sort of reaction, “Do something.”

“Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes.”

Freezing mid-poke, the blonde boy bit the inside of his cheek. Slowly turning to the now open door where the towering forms of his clearly disappointed parents stood.

“Adrian,” his mother spoke again, raising a brow as she crossed her arms, “I trust you have a good explanation for this, young man?”

As a matter of fact, he did not.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to bullshit his way through this one.

-.-

When Lisa had woken up that morning, she had been expecting it to be a normal day.

Instead, her husband had teleported away with only a strained hiss that he was going to investigate a new rumor.

She hadn’t even been able to ask what had happened before he vanished, leaving her to her thoughts. Wondering what was going on. There was no telling what it could’ve been. One of his generals causing trouble again. Another attempted uprising. The Church once again doing something stupid.

Of all the possibilities that had been running through her head, the massacre of a family Vlad had warned her about almost day in and day out for their first year of marriage and the three following their son’s birth hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Before she had met Vlad, she had only ever heard of the Belmonts. Most through the rumors that people and the Church spread. Conflicting statements she elected to ignore because she wasn’t sure who to trust.

Consequently, Lisa didn’t really learn anything about them until she met her husband. From there she saw the terror that the hunters were regarded with. The fear that was whispered with their names. To those who lived most of their lives in the shadows, the Belmonts were the monsters that went bump in the night.

And, the more she learned about them from her husband’s people, the more she pitied them. It was clear that they were like so many people she had met. Blinded by the prejudices and so willing to eradicate anything that didn’t fit their views of the world.

Of course, that had been before she heard the full story.

The tale Vlad told was not one painting dark magic users or heroic hunters. It wasn’t whispered like a frightened child hiding from the monster under their bed. No. It was a story spoken with sorrow and remorse. Full of pain and heartbreak.

Because the story she had been told was ultimately a tragedy.

The Belmont’s bloody legacy was born not out of prejudice or hatred for the unknown, like she had believed. No. It had been the product of a betrayal so cruel that some would say that only Judas could achieve it.

Lisa couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain Leon had been in at the time.

To lose his wife only to learn just a mere day or so later that his best friend had been the cause…That poor man must’ve been crushed. Beyond heartbroken even.

Now, she wasn’t a violent person. Not even close. But even she could see how such a turn of events could create a blood feud as vicious as the one the family of hunters had with her husband.

In trying to keep Leon from leaving him as Elisabetha had, Vlad had only succeeded in driving him away.

And, in doing so, he had created a line of monster hunters so ruthless the very mention of their name brought terror to even some of the powerful vampires in the world.

All because that family refused to let anyone else suffer the same terrible fate that had befallen them.

Honestly, Lisa couldn’t say that she wouldn’t do the same thing had something ever happened to Adrian. “So,” she spoke, rising from the bed to step up behind her husband. Running a placating hand along his back. “what are we going to do?”

Powerful muscles twitched under her fingers as Vlad turned to look at her, his cheeks stained red from the traces of his bloody tears.

The sight made her heart clench painfully. In all their years together, Lisa had only seen her love cry twice.

Their wedding day had been the first time. And, in all truth, the sight of the love of her life crying blood had nearly given her a heart attack. However, after learning that that was apparent how vampires cried…well, it was just something she learned to accept. Something she had to put into the mental box alongside all the other weird traits her mate possessed.

The second time had been when Adrain had been born.

Neither one of them had expected to have children. From what she understood, while vampires could reproduce naturally, it wasn’t something they practiced often. The power and energy needed to sire viable offspring being more effort than it was worth. No. Vampires tended to lean more towards adoption rather than natural reproduction. Finding it easier to turn an abandoned or unwanted child to raise as their own.

And, seeing as she was human, both of them had naturally assumed that they would be unable to have children. After all, despite the similarities, vampires and humans were ultimately different species. Given how rare it was for vampire couples to procreate, the odds of them producing anything viable were infinitesimally lower.

Needless to say, Adrian had been more than a surprise.

Still, as hard as the pregnancy had been on her, she didn’t regret it for the world. And neither did her husband given how he immediately began crying as he tenderly held their baby in his arms for the first time.

So, for him to be crying now…clearly the near loss of the one thing he had left from his old life was bothering him more than he let on.

“Darling,” she spoke again, reaching up and cupping his cheek. Using the sleeve of her already messy gown to wipe the tears from his face, “I know this is difficult, but we need to come up with a plan.”

“A plan?” he repeated raising a brow. His tone holding a perplexed but curious edge.

“Well, it’s not like we can just send him back out into the world once he’s fully healed. Not if what you say about him being excommunicated is true,” she pointed out. “No one will want to take him; with the exception of the Speakers. And no one knows where they are half the time anyways. Nor can we leave him to fend for himself. I mean, he’s a child! A child who’s just lost his entire home and family all in one night by people he was supposed to trust. Not to mention he was saved by someone who was supposed to be his enemy. Poor thing is more than likely traumatized and confused. What kind of people would we be if we just sent him on his way as soon as his wounds were all healed. And, if we did, assuming some ruffian or monster on the road doesn’t kill him, he’ll freeze by winter. So, I don’t suppose you have a plan?”

Turning to look back to Vlad, she saw him standing there with a rather dumbfounded expression…Almost as if he didn’t even consider any of that before rescuing him.

Surely the great Vampire King couldn’t have forgotten to think through rescuing a human child from the brink of death?

Crossing her arms, Lisa smirked, waiting for his response. “You do have a plan, right?”

When her husband still didn’t answer, the blonde woman couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling past her lips.

Oh, how the mighty King of the Night had fallen.

At least she now knew all her efforts to try to get him to learn to tolerate humans again hadn’t all been for naught. Lord only knew a few years ago he wouldn’t have even considered something like this—not without coming up with some sort of semi-plausible excuse.

“I was thinking he could stay here,” he finally spoke, looking down. Dark hair partially obscuring his brilliant scarlet eyes from her view.

“…Stay here?” she repeated, playfully raising a brow as she waited for his explanation.

Not that she was necessarily opposed to the idea.

When they realized that they could in fact have children, both Vlad and Lisa had been besides themselves with joy. The mere prospect of a large family brightening the dark halls and bringing life to the empty castle making them nearly giddy. Both of them had grown up as only children, and they both could testify to how lonely they had felt at times because of it. Neither of them had wanted their own kids to endure the same isolation.

However, those plans had been destroyed when complications delivering Adrian had left her barren.

It had been a crushing blow, yes. But they had both been more relieved that their son was alive and well.

And, while they had done their best to find him friends. She knew there was only so much they could do. Especially with all the grabs for power made in the royal court of Vlad Dracula.

“Yes,” he continued, taking her hand, almost seeming like he was imploring her. Trying to convince her that this was a good idea. “It’s as you said: there’s nowhere for him to go. Especially since as a Belmont everything unholy will seek to end his line. By keeping the last of the hunters under my control not only will it keep him alive, but it’ll make any of my subjects think twice about making another power grab.”

Ah, there was the oh so plausible excuse he was going to use.

Rolling her eyes, Lisa turned to door, opening it before her husband could continue to come up with any more half-baked excuses. “In case you failed to notice, I’m the one who pointed out several reasons for why he shouldn’t leave?”

“…Oh…I suppose you did,” Vlad murmured, looking embarrassed. “However,” he stepped forwards, taking her hand, “I don’t want you to feel pressured into this just because I want it. The boy is a Belmont, and I must remind you that he is dangerous. He could hurt you or Adrian.”

“And so could any of your generals,” she shot back.

Vlad at least had the decency to wince at the reminder.

However, before he could reply, she stepped out into the hall. There wasn’t long before dinner, and they had been gone for a while as it was. It was only a matter of time before their son would start poking around trying to figure out what was going on.

Plus, she probably needed to make sure her patient hadn’t accidentally torn his stitches in his sleep.

Striding down the hall towards the Belmont boy’s temporary room until they could work out something more suitable, Lisa smiled to herself as she felt her husband’s fingers interlace with her own. Comfortable silence settling over them as they walked up to the door.

Hopefully after all the chaos of today, things would finally start to calm down.

“C’mon,” a familiar, annoyed voice groaned from the other side of the door, “do something.”

Sharing an exasperated look with Vlad, the blonde woman opened the door. Revealing their son, crouched over the sleeping boy’s bed, poking his cheek.

“Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes.”

Freezing mid-poke, the dhampir’s golden eyes went wide. The little color he had draining from his face as he turned to look at them, clearly aware he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to do.

“Adrian,” she spoke again, raising a brow, “I trust you have a good explanation for this, young man?”

Chapter 5: Catching Light

A/N: Hey everyone. Welcome back. Now, I know it’s been a hot minute since I worked on this fic. And I’m sorry, but I had other ones I needed to focus on. Though…now I’m using this one to procrastinate on those, so the cycle continues. Also, just fyi: I went back and edited some of the previous chapters to make things more cohesive. As for this chapter, sorry the beginning of it is so choppy. It was fighting me. I’ll probably come back later to fix it if it drives me crazy enough.

Anyways, remember, I just own the story. Nothing else in Castlevania is mine. And I apologize if I continue to get the chracterizations wrong, I’m still working on figuring them out at this point in time.

 “Adrian, I trust you have a good explanation for this, young man?” Lisa said, crossing her arms as she and her husband waited for their son’s answer.

Now, it wasn’t the first time that Adrian had disobeyed them. And nor would it be the last time either.

However, this was the first time it had been regarding something involving his mother’s work. Now, Lisa was normally happy to let her son help her with the cases she worked on. It was a good skill to have, especially seeing as the boy constantly talked about travelling the world like his father did. But, that didn’t change the fact that there were some cases she didn’t want her son working on.

This had been one of them. Mostly because, initially, she hadn’t known what Vlad had been bringing her at the time. For all she knew the poor child been carrying plague.

Still, despite the fact that the unconscious child had not been any immediate danger to their son, Adrian had deliberately gone against their wishes. Which meant their son needed an absolutely fantastic explanation for his actions.

Before them, the dhampir shifted, nervously averting his gaze. Shifting from foot-to-foot as he do doubt thought about he response. “Um…well…y-you see…I thought—Xipor mentioned that—nobody told me…I got bored?”

That much was true at least. But it still didn’t excuse his actions.

By her side, Vlad exhaled tiredly. Pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, “Adrian. We don’t confine you for our own amusement. It is a matter of your safety—”

“Oh come on,” the boy groaned, “What’s the big deal anyways? It’s not like he,” he motioned to the Belmont boy, “could do anything to me.”

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat. While she was on board with taking in the newly orphaned boy, she wouldn’t lie and say that his presence didn’t concern her. It did. And it probably would for a while. At least until they could assure the poor lad that he was no longer in danger. That she and her husband would ensure that no harm came to him as long as he was in their care.

Because there was no changing the fact that their guest was in fact a fledgling vampire hunter. A child who had no doubt been trained from too young of an age to kill creatures of the night. He might not have been as dangerous as the rest of his family yet. But it didn’t change the fact that the boy was entirely capable of hurting their son.

Nor did it change the fact that if it came to it, that regardless of how much the child’s existence meant to him, Vlad would not hesitate to eliminate the boy if he believed that he was a threat to Adrian.

She didn’t want either child to get hurt. Not if she could help it.

And to do that, they needed to keep the boys separate. For the time being at least. At least until they had the chance to explain things to them. Giving them time to process and adapt to the situation at hand.

The Belmont boy would undoubtedly be hostile and confused. Traumatized after being forced to witness those his family had sworn to protect massacre them before his very eyes. Unsure of who to trust upon being left alone in the world. Terrified at suddenly finding himself at the mercy of the very being who had been the reason for his family’s bloody legacy. A being that the child had no doubt grown up hearing nothing but horror stories of.

It would take time to earn the boy’s trust. To reassure him that everything would be ok. To show him that despite their differences, they really did have no intention of letting any harm come to him.

Adrian wouldn’t be much better either. Vlad and Lisa hadn’t been very different than the Belmonts in that regard. Her husband had told their son countless horror stories of the infamous monster hunters. Regaling hundreds of tales describing in detail of what the family did to night creatures that dared cross their path. Making sure the dhampir had no misunderstandings of how important it was for him to keep the hunters from catching his scent.

The mere realization that they had even brought one into the castle would certainly create some sense of betrayal in their child. Making it seem like they had taken away the sense of safety he had within his own home.

Neither of them wanted that. They wanted Adrian to feel safe. But they also wanted him to understand why they had made the choices they had.

And to do that, Vlad needed to tell their son the truth.

Giving her husband a pointed look, Lisa left no room for argument as she spoke, “Vlad, he needs to know.”

The vampire’s eyes flashed with alarm. No doubt her mate had been wanting to avoid telling Adrian the tale of woe she had just been told. And Lisa didn’t blame him. She wasn’t surprised by his reluctance. For what father would choose to let their child know that they were not as infallible as they had been led to believe. To let them know that the man they looked up to and adored so much had once committed such heinous sins.

Nonetheless, the fact of the matter didn’t change. Adrian needed to know what was going on. He didn’t need to know the whole story. That much could wait until he was older. But he did need to know why they were keeping a boy from a family that they had warned him so much about they had once caused nightmares.

“Tell me what?” Adrain said, his voice now carrying a confused and worried edge. “Mom. Dad. What’s going on?”

Lisa was about to give her husband another look, however she didn’t have to as the man gave a tired sigh. “Come with me, I will make you a warm tea,” he said, holding out a hand. “There’s much we have to discuss.”

Thankfully, the boy didn’t need too much prompting. Too disturbed by their behavior to bother demanding answers then and there. Instead, obediently, the dhampir followed after his father as they went to talk.

Leaving Lisa alone with her patient.

Closing the door behind them, Lisa returned to her patient’s bedside. Carefully checking over the boy’s injuries as she mulled over the discoveries made that day.

She had known her husband’s past was complicated. It was hard not to be seeing as the man was over three centuries old. Still, it never really occurred to her just how complex it would’ve been.

When Lisa had learned of Beth, she hadn’t been surprised. Disappointed yes, but not surprised. After all, her husband was a centuries old vampire and a human before that. And, as much as he claimed to be recluse, Vlad did have a life before she barged in through the front door. It would be preposterous to believe that he would not have had many partners in that time. Only a fool would think otherwise. Her spouse was quite attractive. Both in the conventional aesthetic sense and the nontraditional sense she preferred. Many others had even made passes at him in her presence due to it. Openly inviting him—and even her sometimes—into their bed.

Honestly, she should have been more shocked by the fact that the vampire king didn’t have a long list of previous lovers. Yes, he had mentioned the odd partner here or there, but from the sounds of it, none had been as close to what she or Beth had had with him.

Though, now, it seemed like that isolation had not been the mere result of the loyalty he had for his lost love alone.

Vlad had spoken of Beth several times. Not only to show how over the centuries his grief had lessened to where he could now think of her and remember the good and not just the pain. But to also remind her that there was no reason for her to compare herself to her. To remind her that while some part of his heart would always love his first wife, it now belonged to Lisa in its entirety.

And while she initially thought that his loneliness had been the result of heartbreak. It was starting to become clear that it was not the heartbreak she had been led to believe it had been. Not entirely at least.

Because, only an idiot could miss the look in her husband’s eyes. The fondness with which he spoke of the knight. The adoration with which he regarded him with. The sheer longing in his voice.

Vlad had loved Leon.

Almost as much as he had loved her and Elisabetha it seemed.

Now, Lisa wasn’t mad. A little irritated that her husband had omitted this fact yes, but not mad. There was no changing the past. What mattered now, was how they handled things moving forwards. Of how they handled the new changes in their family following these revelations. Of how they worked together to move forward and let the past go.

Still, some morbidly curious part of her wondered how much the Belmont boy looked like his family’s progenitor. The man that her husband had loved. Was he a carbon copy or had the line changed beyond recognition?

She didn’t want her husband to start comparing the child to a memory. Because at the end of the day, this child wasn’t Leon. And as a result he’d never be able to meet those expectations. The boy had been through enough. He deserved the chance to grow into his own person.

Lisa sighed to herself, shaking her head to draw herself out of her thoughts. They wouldn’t get her anywhere. Not right now at least.

Turning her attention back to her patient, she was satisfied to find that while his burns still looked ghastly as she began to change the bandages the salve she applied earlier did seem to reduce the inflammation. Hopefully it had been applied early enough to stave of any developing infection. The wounds were already going to scar as it was, the last thing the boy needed was for something like sepsis to hamper his recovery any further.

Lisa reached for the jar she had placed on the nightstand earlier. Popping off the lid to dip into the foul-smelling paste within. Gently dabbing it along the newly exposed wounds as a fresh coat.

Under her ministrations, the Belmont boy whimpered as contact was made with the tender skin. Dark eyebrows screwing together as a small, pale hand twitched harshly. Lisa had hoped that the boy would remain asleep as he had earlier. However, it appeared her prayers had gone unanswered as brilliant blue eyes fluttered open. Their gaze unfocused and glazed with what was quite possibly the beginning of a fever. “Mama?”

Her heart broke at that small, innocent question. Because it went to show just how much this child had lost. Of how just over the span of a few hours, his entire world had shattered and had barely left him any time to grieve.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she murmured, unsure of who she was apologizing for. The boy’s mother, unable to be there to comfort her son. Or herself, for not being who the young Belmont thought she was. And, despite knowing she should correct him, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not right now at least.

Anyone with a trained eye could see that the boy wasn’t fully conscious at the moment. No. He was more likely in that strange place between sleep and wakefulness. Aware enough to have a vague idea of what was going on around him but not conscious enough to remember it as anything more than a faint dream.

Essentially, by telling the truth, she would be causing undue harm to her patient. The least she could do was maintain the illusion for him until he fell asleep. Give him a few moments of peace before reality inevitably crashed into him again.

So, Lisa didn’t say anything regarding the matter of her mistaken identity. Instead, lightly brushing his hair back to feel his forehead. The corners of her mouth pinching slightly as she confirmed her suspicions.

Despite their best efforts, infection was beginning to set in.

Biting back a soft curse, she returned to her task with renewed vigor. Wanting to clean and cover the wounds as soon as possible to prevent further contamination. Hoping that if she were quick enough to get the medicine then there might be a chance of getting ahead of the sickness before it got worse.

She murmured apologies as she worked. Doing her best to minimize the Belmont boy’s pain while maintaining her standards of care. It didn’t stop him from whimpering and crying out weakly as she prodded particularly tender wounds. But she did hope that it provided the child at least a small modicum of comfort.

“There,” she said, rising from the bed to set the soiled bandages aside for disposal, “all done.” Striding to a cabinet, she opened it, silently grateful that she’d had the urge to take stock of her medicine stores just a few days ago. “Now,” she plucked out a bottle, uncorking it as she strode back to the bedside, “I need you to take a sip of this.”

The boy made a small noise of displeasure as she sat back down, using one hand to gently prop his head up, the other gently lowering the flask to his lips. Unsurprisingly, his nose wrinkled as the first drops fell onto his tongue. Nor did she blame him seeing as the concoction did have an unpleasant smell and taste. However, to her relief, while other patients his age would have started trying to get away, her current one remained fairly placid. Allowing her to give him the medication without too much of a fuss.

Pulling the bottle away, she set it on the stand. Exchanging it for a small cup of water. A small, relieved moan escaping him as he drank from the offered glass like a man who’d been dying.

“You need to slow down little one,” she admonished lightly, pulling the cup away before he could drown himself. Giving him a moment to catch his breath, the doctor slowly raised the glass back to his lips. Watching for any signs of obvious distress.

This time though, the boy was calmer. The first few gulps seeming to have soothed the initial parch that had made him so desperate to begin with. Eyelids fluttering as he continued to drink until the cup was empty.

Under different circumstances, Lisa would have refilled it and offered up another glass once he finished. Happy that a dehydrated patient was eager to quench their thirst. However, given the situation at hand, she elected to wait. There was no telling how long the boy had gone without water before Vlad had arrived. And if she gave him too much too soon, there was a good chance it could shock his system and make everything worse.

Setting the empty cup aside by the pitcher to be used later, she lowered the half-asleep Belmont boy back onto the bed. Lying him on the soft pillows, making sure he didn’t roll to put pressure on his injured eye. Thankfully though, her patient made no effort to fight the change she’d made to his earlier positioning. Instead curling up as she tucked him under the covers in hopes that it would keep him warm as the fever began to set in.

Once he was settled, Lisa gently brushed his hair back, and against her better judgement, she pressed a light kiss to his exposed forehead. “Get some rest.”

Making a quiet, content hum as he nuzzled into the pillows, the boy began to drift back to sleep as she made her exit. “Night Mama.”