[ He spots Alucard quickly, lifting a hand in acknowledgement of his presence before approaching.
(He doesn't seem to have noticed him. He seems completely absorbed by his work. But there's something off about it, because every single Belmont instinct honed by training and generations and generations of encounters with monsters is screaming at him that he's being watched.)
He looks over Alucard's illustrated list of little dead things before he speaks, mostly to appreciate how ridiculous it is that he looks so out of place reading it. Here he is, a fucking vampire but also a student of the sciences, and he looks too bright and alive to be dealing with these bones and preserved organs and stuffed bodies of night creatures. ]
I did. I was able to move enough of it onto a spare blanket I found. You'll find it on the table next to the lectern.
[Alucard barely looks up. It was easier with Sypha, when he was in another room entirely. This is much harder, because there are two parts of this. One is all joy, the other is a more somber thing.
The bundle is a darker shade of Trevor's old cloak, and the fabric is far finer than that cloak ever was. Fur pokes out of certain bits that have been folded on itself, and the shape of the whole thing is strangely oblong, never mind lumpy.]
[ It's- odd, that Alucard wouldn't tell him where it needs to be moved to. Odd, but not unprecedented. Sometimes he genuinely doesn't know, because the Belmonts didn't always do an amazing job of making these things clear, and Trevor has to look at things and give his best guess at what it's meant to be and where it's meant to go. So he goes to look, half wondering what on earth his family has gone and left for them this time. ]
This is a spare? [ He sounds half amused by that, because- look, he's not en expert on fancy fabrics, but he can tell something that's well made and warm and strong and made to last for a long time when he sees it. ] Shit, it's nice for something that was just lying around.
[ And he unwraps it carefully, because carefully is how shit here needs to be handled. ]
That's what I thought. Some ancestor must have had similar tastes in traveling clothes. All your family's wards prevented moths from getting to it, I suppose.
[Hell no. Because just unfolding the fabric itself makes it clear that it isn't a cloak, it's a blanket. An overly large one, with fur at all the edges, the size making it so very clear that there is only one bed that the blanket can fit on.
There's another lump covered in the same fabric underneath, but that isn't the most obvious or interesting part of what has been kept in the blanket. There is a sword. Pointed, the hilt understated in how it has been decorated. On the blade itself there are precious little flourishes. A practical sword, even if the discussion of late has been of staying home.
The smaller bundle, when unfolded, reveals itself to be a newer version of Trevor's old cloak in full. Fabric? A bit finer but not overly so, the fur perhaps the most expensive part of it all. Hidden by the bundle is a new set of smaller knives with sheathes for each. (A look inside those sheathes will reveal a tiny Belmont crest.) A new belt to replace the old one, new pouches, all with the same hidden crest on the inside. There is also a seperate leather satchel, the size suggesting it might be Vampire Killer's new home when it is not used. (And that case? That case does have silver lined within.)]
[ It's not the most dramatic reaction. And nothing about Trevor's reaction is dramatic, really. It's slow, considered, picking things up and turning them over and inspecting them in a way that is probably generally considered to be impolite to do with gifts.
They're not from the hold. He can tell that by the leather of the sheathes and satchel. It's not used but exceedingly well-maintained, the way things here tend to be, it's new. Which makes no sense, because it takes a while for the idea of it being a gift to actually occur to Trevor.
Until it does. And his face reddens a few shades and his fingers coil into the fur of the cloak for something to hold onto and- ]
-so if this is meant to be a subtle message that you're sick of me and you want me to get back onto the road... [ His tone is lighter than the words, warm and teasing. ]
You said to wait until I figured it out, then ask.
[Alucard wants to look up. He wants to look up so bad, but he's just staring at a dead stuffed animal instead, trying to clamp down on the sense of anticipation. It gets worse when Trevoer speaks, because Trevor is bad at emotion and Alucard wants him to have all the space he needs.]
Would you prefer a more dramatic approach instead?
He looks back at the- at all of it. It has a different meaning to it now. He'd caught on that it was a gift, but that it's a proposal? That adds meaning. And it changes meaning. Because this is travelling gear. This is- an understanding, that even this can't keep the world from needing them. That even if the three of them become one in the eyes of- whatever it is that looks over vampire marriages he doesn't even fucking know- then they'll still have to be separated.
This is Alucard being protective, still. An understanding that they can't always be at each other's sides, no matter what vows they make. The means by which, in separation, he can keep himself and Sypha safe until they meet again. The cloak is thick enough to turn away the cold, yes, but also to turn away claws of near any normal beast, and of most night creatures and even some vampires, when Alucard cannot turn them away himself. The sword and knives are- well, that goes without saying. ]
...This is the not-dramatic approach?
[ Is what he manages to say, but there's no hiding that soft, slightly rough texture to his voice. ]
[He gives up. Alucard can't not watch anymore. He puts the inventory down on the shelf he was inspecting, and crosses the little bit of space that remains between them so he can stand beside Trevor properly.
There's no hiding Alucard's face. It's smiling, a touch of nerves threaded in there. Trevor could still decline, and it'd be within his right to do so. (Sypha's response would make it harder though.) His hands find a place to rest in the larger blanket that is now underneath everything.]
I'm unsure how the title of princeling works when extended to rogues who become equals, you know. Couldn't find any helpful books.
I think it means I still have to try to bluff my way into the royal wedding. Rogues never get invited to those things.
[ Trevor's response is understated. Soft. He's not good with this shit. Never has been. But- fuck. This is overwhelming, but exactly on the right side of being so overwhelming he can't accept it. It's a lot but it's a lot for the right reasons. The gift is sentimental but it's also stupidly, stupidly practical.
His hand falls onto Alucard's. He isn't quite looking at him, but his fingers lace into his, joining them in the blanket. ]
Sypha would be able to tell you, I'm sure. Seems like the kind of shit she'd know.
[ Which is a question as much as anything. Has he asked her? Because they do this as three or they do it not at all. ]
[Alucard's fingers are so warm right now. Warmest he's ever been without anyone's help. He's not rushing any of this, the way this all goes is on Trevor. Alucard knows that this shit is not Trevor's strong suit.
So that's why he doesn't rush anything. It's why he falls on gentle banter.]
We had the discussion yesterday. Neither of us are sure.
[ Because he cares. There are not (there in fact are) a lot of things he cares about particularly deeply, but these kind of things matter. They need to be done right. They need to mean something. ]
You don't have to tell me. And it doesn't have to be what I'd recognize it as. [ Because that would be impossible. ] But it has to- it has to mean something. There has to be a vow. Something has to be different the day after it than it was the day before.
[ This would be, technically, the only time in his life Trevor is going to ask for more dramatics. ]
[Because it has always been. Just three as one. Three as a part of a single prophecy. Three as a part of the only residents of the castle. Three clinging as tightly and as dearly to each other as two might when all the world turns against them. Everything else, that's formal. It's for the rest of the world.
They close themselves off from the world here. It is their corner of it, a corner more fiercely guarded than anything else. But that's not what it means to have vows, to have ceremony. That is intent declared to everyone else.
So Alucard had thought long and hard about that point, and he has asked the only people who'd be worth declaring that intent to beyond themselves.]
And the rest we shall invent. I spoke with Sypha's people. Their ways can work for three as easily as two. In many ways it...it is right. Their understanding of prophecy was how we were bound together in the first place.
So they'll know our intent. Down here shall have records. And I am open to whatever else you wish.
[ More than enough. Because really, the Speakers as witnesses makes this a special kind of permanent. Whatever this ends up being, it will last as long as there are people to pass it down to. It'll outlast even Alucard himself, maybe.
And on that topic- it's grim. It's horrible, and Alucard looks so, so happy and he doesn't want to ruin that-
But it has to be a condition of this. It has to be. ]
And. [ His hand squeezes. ] At the end of this-
[ You won't follow us before your time. And you won't become your father. You'll find a way to go on and to be happy in our absence. ]
That matter has always been on my mind. I...will avoid the pitfalls of the past.
[He won't assume that there will be other Belmonts to follow. That is a discussion for Trevor and Sypha and them alone. But Alucard likes to think he has demonstrated a far better ability to handle grief than his father as it is, and if not, he shall show it in other ways.
That's a vow. Here, now, his hand in Trevor's, squeezing back.]
I think the estate has wards against that kind of thing. But I'll find a way.
[ He smiles, and it's- very much like any other smile. His hand is in Alucard's. ]
You realize that this means that I get to blame any weird shit in the hold on Sypha's Family. Or yours. But I don't blame Sypha for nearly enough things.
No, you don't. Anything down here before this exact date is on your ancestor's heads, and just remember: I'm the one who administers the records. I get the final word.
[ And he leans against Alucard, and it's nothing he hasn't done before, but it's- this all makes it just a little different. Just a little new. His voice has lost the teasing tone when he speaks. ]
[Alucard knew the response wouldn't be as immediate as Sypha's. Trevor is Trevor after all, and he wouldn't have this any other way. Better this. Better this, down in the Hold, the first sign that they meant anything at all to each other than in bed after a bad dream. Better this, here and now, after everything they've experienced.
Better this than any of them having never been brought together in the first place.
No kisses. Not yet. Just looking at that face. Memorizing it. Knowing his own is about to burst for all the happiness of the past two days.]
[ He says that, but he's leaning in as close as he can and easing Alucard's hand free of the blanket so that he can lift it up to his lips, knuckles first and then wrist. ]
[And Trevor's being a shit to make that impossible. These gestures always make him weak. Now, now Alucard looks fit to melt onto the floor of the Hold.]
[ He'll try to emotions better later. It's going to take him a while. A lot of easing the feelings free, helping them make their way out of his head. He might just end up sobbing into Sypha's hair tonight. ]
Did you actually have anything you needed help with? Or are we free to give Sypha the bad news, that she's going to be stuck with us for a long time yet?
[Before Trevor gets an elaborated upon answer, he's getting kissed first. Very kissed on the lips, because Alucard can restrain everything but this. First kiss where the word husband can be said seriously, not just as an idle hope. First kiss of something new. First kiss that's still fierce and protective and trying to balance everything going on without fangs daring to enter into the equation.
Sorry Trevor. This is as low key as he can manage. You know what you're getting into.]
[ This has happened before. The kissing, even as fierce and soft at once as this is- that's happened before. But it's still new. Still different. And kind of sappy, but acceptable. He kisses back, and somewhere in it he ends up holding on to Alucard, squeezing him a little more tightly than might be technically comfortable
He's quick to make the hug tighter, once the kiss breaks, holding Alucard so that they're looking over each other's shoulders, so they can't see each other's faces.
And there might be a reason for that, because his voice is sounding just a little different when he does talk. A little strained. Like it's about to crack. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cryptsleeper) wrote2018-11-10 11:26 pm
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(He doesn't seem to have noticed him. He seems completely absorbed by his work. But there's something off about it, because every single Belmont instinct honed by training and generations and generations of encounters with monsters is screaming at him that he's being watched.)
He looks over Alucard's illustrated list of little dead things before he speaks, mostly to appreciate how ridiculous it is that he looks so out of place reading it. Here he is, a fucking vampire but also a student of the sciences, and he looks too bright and alive to be dealing with these bones and preserved organs and stuffed bodies of night creatures. ]
You had silver?
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[Alucard barely looks up. It was easier with Sypha, when he was in another room entirely. This is much harder, because there are two parts of this. One is all joy, the other is a more somber thing.
The bundle is a darker shade of Trevor's old cloak, and the fabric is far finer than that cloak ever was. Fur pokes out of certain bits that have been folded on itself, and the shape of the whole thing is strangely oblong, never mind lumpy.]
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This is a spare? [ He sounds half amused by that, because- look, he's not en expert on fancy fabrics, but he can tell something that's well made and warm and strong and made to last for a long time when he sees it. ] Shit, it's nice for something that was just lying around.
[ And he unwraps it carefully, because carefully is how shit here needs to be handled. ]
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[Hell no. Because just unfolding the fabric itself makes it clear that it isn't a cloak, it's a blanket. An overly large one, with fur at all the edges, the size making it so very clear that there is only one bed that the blanket can fit on.
There's another lump covered in the same fabric underneath, but that isn't the most obvious or interesting part of what has been kept in the blanket. There is a sword. Pointed, the hilt understated in how it has been decorated. On the blade itself there are precious little flourishes. A practical sword, even if the discussion of late has been of staying home.
The smaller bundle, when unfolded, reveals itself to be a newer version of Trevor's old cloak in full. Fabric? A bit finer but not overly so, the fur perhaps the most expensive part of it all. Hidden by the bundle is a new set of smaller knives with sheathes for each. (A look inside those sheathes will reveal a tiny Belmont crest.) A new belt to replace the old one, new pouches, all with the same hidden crest on the inside. There is also a seperate leather satchel, the size suggesting it might be Vampire Killer's new home when it is not used. (And that case? That case does have silver lined within.)]
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[ It's not the most dramatic reaction. And nothing about Trevor's reaction is dramatic, really. It's slow, considered, picking things up and turning them over and inspecting them in a way that is probably generally considered to be impolite to do with gifts.
They're not from the hold. He can tell that by the leather of the sheathes and satchel. It's not used but exceedingly well-maintained, the way things here tend to be, it's new. Which makes no sense, because it takes a while for the idea of it being a gift to actually occur to Trevor.
Until it does. And his face reddens a few shades and his fingers coil into the fur of the cloak for something to hold onto and- ]
-so if this is meant to be a subtle message that you're sick of me and you want me to get back onto the road... [ His tone is lighter than the words, warm and teasing. ]
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[Alucard wants to look up. He wants to look up so bad, but he's just staring at a dead stuffed animal instead, trying to clamp down on the sense of anticipation. It gets worse when Trevoer speaks, because Trevor is bad at emotion and Alucard wants him to have all the space he needs.]
Would you prefer a more dramatic approach instead?
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Oh.
Well shit.
He looks back at the- at all of it. It has a different meaning to it now. He'd caught on that it was a gift, but that it's a proposal? That adds meaning. And it changes meaning. Because this is travelling gear. This is- an understanding, that even this can't keep the world from needing them. That even if the three of them become one in the eyes of- whatever it is that looks over vampire marriages he doesn't even fucking know- then they'll still have to be separated.
This is Alucard being protective, still. An understanding that they can't always be at each other's sides, no matter what vows they make. The means by which, in separation, he can keep himself and Sypha safe until they meet again. The cloak is thick enough to turn away the cold, yes, but also to turn away claws of near any normal beast, and of most night creatures and even some vampires, when Alucard cannot turn them away himself. The sword and knives are- well, that goes without saying. ]
...This is the not-dramatic approach?
[ Is what he manages to say, but there's no hiding that soft, slightly rough texture to his voice. ]
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[He gives up. Alucard can't not watch anymore. He puts the inventory down on the shelf he was inspecting, and crosses the little bit of space that remains between them so he can stand beside Trevor properly.
There's no hiding Alucard's face. It's smiling, a touch of nerves threaded in there. Trevor could still decline, and it'd be within his right to do so. (Sypha's response would make it harder though.) His hands find a place to rest in the larger blanket that is now underneath everything.]
I'm unsure how the title of princeling works when extended to rogues who become equals, you know. Couldn't find any helpful books.
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[ Trevor's response is understated. Soft. He's not good with this shit. Never has been. But- fuck. This is overwhelming, but exactly on the right side of being so overwhelming he can't accept it. It's a lot but it's a lot for the right reasons. The gift is sentimental but it's also stupidly, stupidly practical.
His hand falls onto Alucard's. He isn't quite looking at him, but his fingers lace into his, joining them in the blanket. ]
Sypha would be able to tell you, I'm sure. Seems like the kind of shit she'd know.
[ Which is a question as much as anything. Has he asked her? Because they do this as three or they do it not at all. ]
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[Alucard's fingers are so warm right now. Warmest he's ever been without anyone's help. He's not rushing any of this, the way this all goes is on Trevor. Alucard knows that this shit is not Trevor's strong suit.
So that's why he doesn't rush anything. It's why he falls on gentle banter.]
We had the discussion yesterday. Neither of us are sure.
[He gently squeezes Trevor's hands.]
We were waiting for your opinion.
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[ Because he cares. There are not (there in fact are) a lot of things he cares about particularly deeply, but these kind of things matter. They need to be done right. They need to mean something. ]
You don't have to tell me. And it doesn't have to be what I'd recognize it as. [ Because that would be impossible. ] But it has to- it has to mean something. There has to be a vow. Something has to be different the day after it than it was the day before.
[ This would be, technically, the only time in his life Trevor is going to ask for more dramatics. ]
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[Because it has always been. Just three as one. Three as a part of a single prophecy. Three as a part of the only residents of the castle. Three clinging as tightly and as dearly to each other as two might when all the world turns against them. Everything else, that's formal. It's for the rest of the world.
They close themselves off from the world here. It is their corner of it, a corner more fiercely guarded than anything else. But that's not what it means to have vows, to have ceremony. That is intent declared to everyone else.
So Alucard had thought long and hard about that point, and he has asked the only people who'd be worth declaring that intent to beyond themselves.]
And the rest we shall invent. I spoke with Sypha's people. Their ways can work for three as easily as two. In many ways it...it is right. Their understanding of prophecy was how we were bound together in the first place.
So they'll know our intent. Down here shall have records. And I am open to whatever else you wish.
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[ More than enough. Because really, the Speakers as witnesses makes this a special kind of permanent. Whatever this ends up being, it will last as long as there are people to pass it down to. It'll outlast even Alucard himself, maybe.
And on that topic- it's grim. It's horrible, and Alucard looks so, so happy and he doesn't want to ruin that-
But it has to be a condition of this. It has to be. ]
And. [ His hand squeezes. ] At the end of this-
[ You won't follow us before your time. And you won't become your father. You'll find a way to go on and to be happy in our absence. ]
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[He won't assume that there will be other Belmonts to follow. That is a discussion for Trevor and Sypha and them alone. But Alucard likes to think he has demonstrated a far better ability to handle grief than his father as it is, and if not, he shall show it in other ways.
That's a vow. Here, now, his hand in Trevor's, squeezing back.]
Haunt me if I fail.
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[ He smiles, and it's- very much like any other smile. His hand is in Alucard's. ]
You realize that this means that I get to blame any weird shit in the hold on Sypha's Family. Or yours. But I don't blame Sypha for nearly enough things.
[ Ha ha, you're both Belmonts now. ]
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[This is still not a yes, Trevor Belmont.]
No, you don't. Anything down here before this exact date is on your ancestor's heads, and just remember: I'm the one who administers the records. I get the final word.
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[ Does he NEED to actually say it??? Gosh. ]
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Stop planning your afterlife and focus on the present.
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[ And he leans against Alucard, and it's nothing he hasn't done before, but it's- this all makes it just a little different. Just a little new. His voice has lost the teasing tone when he speaks. ]
Of course. Of course.
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Better this than any of them having never been brought together in the first place.
No kisses. Not yet. Just looking at that face. Memorizing it. Knowing his own is about to burst for all the happiness of the past two days.]
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[ He says that, but he's leaning in as close as he can and easing Alucard's hand free of the blanket so that he can lift it up to his lips, knuckles first and then wrist. ]
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[And Trevor's being a shit to make that impossible. These gestures always make him weak. Now, now Alucard looks fit to melt onto the floor of the Hold.]
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[ He'll try to emotions better later. It's going to take him a while. A lot of easing the feelings free, helping them make their way out of his head. He might just end up sobbing into Sypha's hair tonight. ]
Did you actually have anything you needed help with? Or are we free to give Sypha the bad news, that she's going to be stuck with us for a long time yet?
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[Before Trevor gets an elaborated upon answer, he's getting kissed first. Very kissed on the lips, because Alucard can restrain everything but this. First kiss where the word husband can be said seriously, not just as an idle hope. First kiss of something new. First kiss that's still fierce and protective and trying to balance everything going on without fangs daring to enter into the equation.
Sorry Trevor. This is as low key as he can manage. You know what you're getting into.]
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He's quick to make the hug tighter, once the kiss breaks, holding Alucard so that they're looking over each other's shoulders, so they can't see each other's faces.
And there might be a reason for that, because his voice is sounding just a little different when he does talk. A little strained. Like it's about to crack. ]
There's something I have to do. Before we go.
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