Chapter Text
The entire plan was insane.
Trevor didn’t know how anyone agreed to it, let alone himself. It’s a stupid, half-arsed, last resort which is either going to end in blood or death.
It says a lot that they’re all still going along with it.
Trevor grunted as his mother styled his hair. Her quick fingers raked through the brown locks and try as she might to keep up the endless, happy chatter, he could still see the worry in her eyes, the distress in her pursed mouth.
“You look good, Trevor.” His sister, Ann, who was lounging on the couch beside them, reading a book on vampire hunting— that should really not be here, he thought. She watched them intently, not bothering with the forced smiles the others offered him.
The nights he had spent with her before this week, throwing his whip onto practice targets and exerting his anxious energy onto the wooden figures were the best he’d had since he heard the news. Ann didn’t pretend nothing was wrong. She knew how he felt. She listened.
“Thanks,” he sighed, shifting in his seat.
“She’s right,” his mother smiled. “Very handsome.”
He groaned dramatically, but his hands twisted in his lap. “You’re obliged to say that, mother.”
“It’s true,” she tsked as she scanned his hair. “Though, your hair is very disagreeable.”
“Part of my charm,” he remarked, presenting his middle finger at Ann’s snicker.
“Trevor Belmont.” His mother reprimanded.
Ann smirked. “Yeah, Trevor.”
“You’re bullying me, Ann. On my special day.” He clutched his heart in mock agony. “Don’t you love me?”
“I won’t admit it to your pompous head.” She snorted.
“That’s enough from you both. Trevor, change into your clothes.”
He eyed the hanging fabrics in dismay. Why the fuck was he going along with this? He could still run, right?
But even as he thought that the various implications of not going through the ceremony ran through his mind. He’d heard the terms. He’d listened to the consequences. He had agreed to this. His family was here. So was his.
He had to do it.
“I hate the cape.” He eyed the dark colours.
“He’ll be wearing our family colours too,” Ann piped up.
“He better.”
“We’ll let you change,” his mother all but shoved Ann out, hesitating slightly at the door. “I know this is difficult, Trevor. But it’s our only choice.”
“I know.” And he did. They’d gone through every path they could take, every opportunity that had arisen. None fit as well as this one.
The Belmont family had fought monsters of myth and legend. They had saved Kings and Queens, commoners and farmers alike. They were different.
But it seemed the Church had forgotten that. It seemed everyone had.
It’s hard to do your job when you’re being chased by Churchmen or mobbed by the common folk. It’s hard to go to sleep knowing that they could try to burn your home down again. It’s hard to fight for them, sometimes.
But duty prevails.
And this is just duty in another form, he tells himself. Another obligation to his family and to the country he must make.
It’s never been done before, yes. It’s unprecedented, quite literally history in the making. Trevor’s not sure if that makes it better or worse.
But it doesn’t matter. In an hour this will be over. In an hour the plan will be done.
In an hour he will be married.
To Adrian Tepes.
Son of Dracula.
— — —
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Stop fidgeting.” His brother clasped his shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. Henry Belmont, now head of the Belmont clan after their father’s death, looked around them carefully. “No fear. Not here.”
“I’m not scared, you dick.” He hissed.
The large, ornate doors of the castle hall are wide open and a procession of his family, distant relatives and cousins, Speakers, fucking vampires and others he can’t recognise all stream in.
The air around them is tense. Centuries of hatred and suspicion wouldn't die down in a few simple weeks. Everywhere, sneers are present and jibes are traded. The peace is a fragile, new thing that had everyone betting on how long it’d last.
Trevor thinks it’s a week.
“Then stop moving.”
“They can’t see us.”
They’re standing at one of the side entrances of the grand hall, hidden from sight. His mother and siblings are already seated at the front row, their smiles strained and eyes clouded.
They don’t want me to leave them.
He wanted to shout at them. To tell them he felt the same. But his feet were rooted to the spot and his mouth felt heavy.
“You need to prepare yourself,” Henry whispered. “Any hint of hesitation or fear and they’ll pounce. You can’t let that happen.” He hesitated. “You need to survive.”
How fucking reassuring.
“The pact won’t let them rip my throat out.”
His brother didn’t respond, merely tightening his grip on his shoulders.
A hush fell over the hall. Peeking out again, he saw how everyone was seated. Humans on the left, vampires on the right and others scattered between. Some were glancing back at the large doors. Trevor rolled his eyes at that. He was not being paraded down the aisle like a damn virgin bride. He had been firm on his stance and was finally allowed to come through the side entrances.
He didn’t understand why the fuss mattered. No matter how traditional they tried to make this, no matter how much they tried to ignore the interspecies hate, this wasn’t going to be easy.
Centuries of bloodshed were not going to be smoothed over.
Music began to play, a deep whimsical tune that Trevor, for all his ignorance in the arts, had to appreciate.
“It’s time,” and with a final squeeze of his shoulders, Henry was leading him out.
The eyes that fell on him felt crushing, their weight almost palpable. It was irritating. The vampires were evaluating his worth. Each glance seemed to measure his every move, every breath as if judging whether he was worthy of their attention or simply another mortal to dismiss.
Well, fuck them. If any of them wanted to come up here instead he wouldn’t complain. He remembered to keep a blank expression, a perfect posture as his mother had drilled into him, and every other piece of propriety he fucking needed for this.
After nodding at the familiar Elder Speaker waiting at the dais, Trevor kept his gaze fixed on the doors. He didn’t want to face the crowd. Fuck looking at everyone else.
But he also knew that the Dhampir was going to come through those very doors. So was it really better to be looking there? Letting his eyes drift for a moment, he eyed his family warmly and looked at the opposite side.
Yeah, there were the sneers.
Some were blank-faced, a few had a smile but most hated him. How wonderful.
He sighed and started to look back at the entrance, but his gaze caught on the first row. A beautiful woman sat there with two men. They were all watching him intently but it wasn’t the same hateful way the rest of the vampires on their side were doing.
No. They were curious.
The man with shoulder-length silver hair watched him carefully while his dark-skinned companion kept looking at him and his family.
But Trevor wasn’t interested in them.
Next to them, Doctor Tepes offered the warmest smile he’d seen in this damn hall. Her eyes held a kindness that eased some of the tension in his chest. When she caught his gaze, her smile widened, and she gave him a reassuring nod.
Warmth spread through him at the sight of the familiar woman, her kind words and attitude coming back to him. He nodded back, grateful for the reminder of her.
He looked back at the doors. He had no more than a second to wonder what was wrong with him before everyone began to rise and Trevor closed his eyes briefly, a soft curse escaping his lips.
— — — — — —
Adrian was strong. It wasn’t a fanciful idea of his, only a mere fact. He was a Dhampir. He was a Tepes. His strength matched that of the old creatures in legend, and his mind was superior.
He was strong.
And yet.
He heard the music echo through the castle halls and as he stood with his father next to the large doors, as they were cued to enter, Adrian had felt more trepidation than he had ever before.
It’s just marriage, he told himself. The ceremony will be quick. The feast will be quicker. It will be done soon.
He shifted, trying not to remember that life would continue after both events. That he couldn’t simply leave the man on the altar and never see him again.
This was marriage.
“Do not fret,” his father said softly. “No harm will come to you. Nor anyone else.”
He nodded, not bothering to voice his thoughts now. His father had already heard them and had tried his best to prepare him.
And they were only mere moments away from their entry.
And yet.
“Stay with me,” he said quietly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
A large hand squeezed his. “Of course.”
And they began to walk in.
Adrian had seen the guest list on paper but it still shocked him to see it first hand. Belmonts. Vampires. Witches and wizards. Speakers. Forgemasters. It seems every enemy of the Church had gathered here today, ready to pay their respects and try to begin the new era that the plan was supposed to bring.
His gaze drifted. He had no desire to look upon the supernatural. He’d seen them enough. The Belmont’s however…
They were all watching him closely. And he, them. They were strong, in both stature and personality. He could feel their ire from here and their suspicion in their stances. A majority of them were looking only at him but the row in front was glancing back to the front, to–
Ah. There was Trevor Belmont.
Adrian had not been presented with a portrait. While the planning of the pact and the border lines were examined in great detail and depth, as it had been laboured over for weeks and weeks, the actual preparation for the ceremony had not.
It was rushed and conflicted. It seemed no one wanted them to back out, to find a replacement for their position.
For Trevor that would’ve been easy. He had siblings and a great clan.
For Adrian, it was not.
And so, no portrait had been given, no likeness presented. There may have been various reasons for it. But if they had been worried that Adrian would take offence to the option presented, they were wrong.
Trevor Belmont was quite handsome.
Like the rest of his clan, he was large and strong. His broad shoulders emphasised the dark cloak running down his shoulders. Black and red. His own family colours.
As he came closer, Adrian saw the slight frown on his lips. He didn’t like Adrian then?
Well, he didn’t care. He was here for duty not to be coddled.
A sharp scar ran down Trevor’s eye and he was drawn to the bright blue that followed him beneath it. Their eyes locked and only broke away once he climbed the few, small steps, reaching the top of the dais.
His father and he assumed the other man to be Henry Belmont, head of the Belmont Clan, stepped away. Though not as far as a usual wedding would have them do.
There was no priest. The current circumstances wouldn’t allow it and even then the vampires would scoff. They had no need for priests to be married. They themselves would perform the rites and would recite the words.
But it wasn’t just them. It was the Belmonts here too.
And so they compromised.
— — — — — —
Oh, fuck.
Trevor's gaze landed on Adrian Tepes, and a rush of conflicting emotions hit him. He stopped himself from fidgeting, looking at a point over Adrian’s head as they faced each other.
The Elder Speaker behind them cleared his throat. Fuck.
This was no traditional wedding. There couldn’t be a priest. But they had to make this damn plan achievable and his family would not budge on making the ceremony as traditional as they could. And thanks to Sypha, her grandfather volunteered to take the place of a priest. That served both sides well. The Belmonts were on good terms with the Speakers and the vampires had no problems with them either. They were essentially a middle ground.
As the Elder began to speak, Trevor spaced out, his eyes returning to Adrian. The Dhampir was watching him just as closely. They observed each other silently. Trevor couldn’t pull his gaze away from his eyes. They were so gold. Brighter than they had any right to be, they were also framed by dark kohl that made Trevor grind his teeth.
He ripped his gaze away from them as looked over his straight nose, his sharp cheeks and very soft-looking hair. A curl had fallen over his shoulder and Trevor had to submerge the urge to push it back, to feel it between his fingers.
His name snapped him back to the present.
“...take Adrian Tepes to be your husband?”
He cleared his throat, ignoring the pounding of his heartbeat. “I do.”
“Do you, Adrian Tepes, take Trevor Belmont to be your husband?”
“I do.” His voice was smooth. Like liquid gold.
“You may exchange rings.”
Oh, that's right. Fumbling into his pocket, Trevor produced a delicate ring from its confines. They both hesitated, eyes catching onto the others before Adrian shoved his hand forward. His mouth parched, Trevor slid the band onto his finger, watching the gold band catch and sparkle in the light. He watched Adrian inspect it, watched him rub it against the walls of his neighbouring fingers as if trying to etch the markings into his skin.
Blinking, Adrian brought out his own ring, much smoother than Trevor’s previous panic. As Trevor extended his hand, he suppressed a shiver when Adrian’s fingers lingered on his skin, as they crawled up his hand to support the exchange. Getting a hold of himself, Trevor focused on the ring.
The band was fashioned from gold and decorated with ornate engravings that coiled and twisted. It seemed like an antique. At the centre of its coils lay a deep red stone. The intensity of the colour screamed at him, demanding his attention and adding weight to the moment that he hadn’t anticipated.
Their hands were still connected, holding each other gently. Adrian wasn’t as cold as Trevor thought he’d be.
Remembering himself, he pulled away, not meeting the other’s eyes as he stared stubbornly at the Speaker. The metal was cold on his fingers and Trevor fisted his fingers by his side, testing the weight of it on his hand.
For a moment, there was a pause. “I now pronounce you married.”
Applause erupted in the hall, much louder than he thought it’d be. Baffled, he even heard a few cheers shouted in the distance. Who the fuck?
Trevor’s shoulders were squeezed as his brother stood next to him again. Across them, Adrian had turned back to his father and they were already making their way down the steps. Doctor Tepes bounded off the first row and hugged Adrian tightly. He watched as Adrian returned the gesture, as fucking Dracula gently placed a hand atop each of their heads.
A sharp tug made him turn and Ann crashed into him gracelessly, laughing slightly. “You actually looked good up there. Confident.”
He sighed, relieved. Well, at least he fooled everyone else. She made way for the rest of their family and he hugged them all in turn.
The hunter felt a familiar sensation of being watched, and he looked over his mother’s head to see Adrian staring straight at him, golden eyes curious and burning.