[ A little way away, at a stall for ingredients of various kinds, a shopkeep cuts part of an antler off and grinds it into powder for a waiting client.
The man who caught Alucard's attention pushes a blank piece of paper into his hands. A moment later, dips a brush into a bottle of clear liquid and runs it over the paper, 'accidentally' missing a few lines. Best not to reveal to a servant of Dracula's where Dracula's few laws have been broken, after all. Where the liquid is brushed over, words form. It's a list of merchandise, with details and prices. He taps a finger at the bottom of the list. ]
Selkie - Unknown - Unavailable Forgemaster - Greek - SOLD Fae - French - For Sale
I'm afraid that the last of our stock of forgemasters has gone to another client only recently. I offer confidentiality, so I couldn't possibly let you know who intends to raise an army. Not for free. But I'm certain some of my other merchandise might be of interest.
[Alucard follows, the air of coldness and superiority trailing in his wake. He does not like this. He does not like this at all, because for all Alucard knows this could be a trap of some kind, rather than a real rescue mission. Oh, not by Trevor's doing of course, but other forces.
He looks down at the piece of paper, noticing the blank lines. This is a thriving trade then. Alucard refuses to dwell on how much or little his father may know of it.
But it has Trevor. That is progress, more than any of them had made so far, and perhaps the spells that bind him here are why no one has been able to track him. With that, Alucard's eyes return to the salesman, gold and cold and glinting.]
The information is more than enough in the case of the forgemasters. [And that is a truth.]
I will see the only available listed item then. You'll bring it out here, in front of others, so that the truth of the listing can be verified. Usually I would not be concerned, but I am sure you understand that the matter of who I speak on behalf of requires certain additional steps.
[ The man vanishes into one of the wagons. There are noises - demands to stand and walk, the dragging of metal on the wagon's wooden floor.
The figure that stumbles out is barely recognisable. The lower part of his face is obscured by the kind of bridle used to punish scolds and boasts, the upper part of it by the thick iron wires and leather straps holding it in place. One of the wires has been knocked out of place and digs into the side of his face, the flesh trying and failing to heal around it. His antlers are gone, cut away so close to the skull that what remains of his hair obscures the base of them.
As he misses a step and falls to the ground it becomes clear that his wings are gone, too. He is naked and his skin is covered with a mixture of symbols and words, written in purple-black ink. ]
Stand. [ The merchant orders. He does not. The man narrows his eyes, taking a quill and a jar of ink, and proceeds to write 'stand' across his back. ] He is difficult about verbal commands, as you can see, but nearly all of his kind can be controlled in this manner.
[ The ink hisses as sinks in to the scratches made by the pen - it's actually fairly pale. The dark purple colour, it becomes clear, comes from the bruising it causes. As it does, Trevor pushes himself to his feet. He doesn't seem to notice Alucard, staring past him. ]
[Alucard hates playing these kinds of games. When the man disappears, he pauses just long enough to readjust his coat, pulling the closures closer to keep himself warmer. What he wants to do is retreat into the collar of the coat, surrounded by fur and walking away with Trevor with no more play acting and--
--Fuck.
All Alucard wants to do is sweep in, tear off every chain on Trevor, and carry him back to Sypha. This is awful. The kind of thing that would make his father seethe about humanity never being worth dealing with in the first place, but perhaps even more so. This is beyond keeping one prisoner for sale, this is mutilation for no reason at all.
The stench of iron dominates, not only for the chains but the things written on Trevor's flesh. He understands the ink's power - there's iron in it. Iron to bind. Iron to control.
Bile rises up Alucard's throat.]
He is not whole, I see.
[The payment for this sort of thing would be too high, and Alucard doesn't trust a man that has this much magic in him. Best to bargain and get out as quickly as possible.]
I am afraid not. They are hard to tame, whole, and- well. The alchemists do need to get their materials somehow, don't they?
[ The salesman tuts, reaching up to fix the out of place wire on the bridle, a reproach about struggling too much under his breath. ]
Consider it an investment. All of it will grow back, of course, and in the meantime the dulled senses and disorientation make them far more obedient and easy to train. You can convince them to make any promise at all.
[They'll have to have Sypha track down the parts and destroy each in turn. None of their boyfriend can be left to the whims of others. That is a simple and known fact.
Alucard doesn't flinch as he watches the bridle be adjusted. Don't look away. He can't look away, because that would give his connection to the Belmont away and make the situation harder.]
I expect the missing parts are reflected in your asking price.
[ The merchant looks offended by the idea for just a moment, but then smiles again. A client like Dracula is worth taking a less than satisfactory deal, after all. He calls to the shopkeeper tending the ingredients stall, the one who was grinding an antler before, and they talk for a little while before he addresses Alucard again. ]
For a client like your master, I can lower the price by the going rate for a pair of antlers and wings. I'll throw in a few bottles of the ink, too, for the damage he's managed to do to himself.
[As Alucard waits, his eyes remain on Trevor. He's calculating all of the damage done to their Belmont. Trying to figure out what the best way to deal with the iron might be. Magnets perhaps, that seems a logical choice.
These are anchoring thoughts. The kind that help him focus on not flying off the handle, on remaining calm, on not tearing the entire market apart in a rage.
Then the source of that rage addresses Alucard, and he frowns thinly.]
I see. For reasons that are obvious, cash is the only acceptable form of payment.
[Easier to part with gold than to offer body parts or memories or other magic bits.]
i would not dare take anything more from Lord Dracula.
[ There's recognition in Trevor's eyes, at that. His senses are too dulled by pain and the loss of his antlers to recognise Alucard, but he can just about hear that name. Is that where he's being taken? To Dracula? Shit. What if Dracula interprets this as a failure? What if he punishes Sypha for his own being captured?
While the merchant speaks, he reaches blindly at the table of papers nearby, for that blank page written in magic ink. That, he can give to him. Use it to bargain, maybe. There's information there that Dracula would want to see.
The merchant turns back too soon, and he has to withdraw his hand quickly to avoid being caught. ]
You've failed to state the price. I do not accept any offer until I have reviewed that and any other paperwork.
[He wants to get out of here and rush it, but that was the problem the first time he had to make some kind of choice that could get the other two hurt, wasn't it? He had to force Trevor to summon Leon to negotiate a better deal.
[ The merchant turns, assembling a stack of papers. Instructions for proper control of Trevor's kind. All of the information that he's been able to gather that makes this look like a good deal, and none of what might make it seem unfavourable. Trevor can just about tell whats going on and when the merchant turns back to confirm the price of the antlers and wings, to knock down the cost by that much, he slips that blank paper into the stack. No need for the ink to reveal the words, Dracula will find a way.
Trading in fairies and forgemasters is one thing. Trading in young fledglings is information that Dracula might want to know. It's not much, but it's the only thing he has to offer.
The merchant writes down his price on the top page, handing the small stack of papers to Alucard. ]
Please, take all the time you like. I should warn you, however, that there are other interested buyers. I can hold him a little while as a favour to your master, but not for too long.
[It's an automatic question as Alucard watches the papers be assembled. He doesn't care about the rest of it. Just tell him the sodding price and let the matter be absolutely done for.
He waits though, as patient as he can manage given the circumstances. It's not much, and there's a low rumbling fire of anger that's threatening to erupt.
Then he sees the price, and it almost does.]
This is more coin than I have on my person at the moment.
[ The merchant considers, then shakes his head. He wants Dracula as a customer, but he can't go lower than that. It's rare to come across a fairy so easily captured. ]
Take the papers, then. Have your master look through them. I'm sure he will find our price to be very reasonable. My market will be here for another two days, and I will hold him for that long.
[Alucard squints. He then reaches into his coat's inner pocket, and he takes out a small bag. There's a straight up pound of gold in there, and he deposits it on the table.]
Our words are worth their weight. I expect yours will be as well.
He returns just before sunrise. The in between hours involved returning home and bursting into a rage that if Alucard squinted, seemed to put a look on his father's face that was closer to proud than anything else. It was hidden by his own blank face at the ton of paperwork, and the fury that such trafficking was on going without his say so.
That was a matter to attend to in the near future.
Alucard places bags down. All gold, all with their exact weights labeled in Dracula's meticulous handwriting. The timing is on purpose - to force a quick sale, and to get Trevor out as soon as possible.]
[ The merchant seems equal parts surprised and delighted at the quick return. A quick sale is always a good thing, after all, and the speed implies an interest in his wares that he wouldn't dare hope for from Dracula himself.
Oh, it'll mean that he has to stop trading in Dracula's own subjects. But the opportunities! With both Dracula and his rival as clients- a few words in the right ears, a little work digging up forgemasters, and he can be arming both sides of a war. The potential profits!
He grins. ]
It would seem we have a deal, then. A moment - I know your time is short.
[ Alucard is obviously a full vampire, after all, with limited time before sunrise. Once again, he drags Trevor out. He hands a chain attached to the brindle to Alucard, and takes one of Trevor's arms. Upon it he writes 'you will follow the buyer's instructions' before offering the quill and a bottle of ink to Alucard as well. ]
He will do as you say for as long as the writing remains in place. If it fades, simply write a new order. Do not let him speak unless you are confident that you can have him make a promise with you - his kind are wont to trap people in bargains.
The missing parts will grow back within a few months. You will have until then to have him swear loyalty to your master. After that, the ink and iron should not be needed.
[Every inch of this is Wrong. It was something Alucard knew the moment he arrived, and he saw that concern reflected on his father's face as well. He had caught onto something else, something deeply concerning, but whatever it was, he was not about to share.
His hands are rock steady as he is handed the chain. He wants to wretch from the idea, and he knows that the only advantage with him now is that a) he can spirit them both away quickly and b) he can remain after sunrise. Just this once.]
I understand. Forgive me if I must speed my departure.
[That means nothing like a handshake to seal this cursed deal or anything of the sort. That is to Alucard's personal preference, but why would he want to touch the man who's done this to Trevor?
There's that cold, commanding voice of compulsion that he employs instead of relying on any other instruction. He doesn't wish to deal with anything else.]
Come along then.
[In his single moment of lucidity, he had contacted Sypha. Told her to be at the cave and that nothing was good. But that had been all.]
[ Finally, finally he is close enough to see Alucard properly. To recognise his voice. His eyes go wide for just a moment, but nothing more.
(No sudden movements, over the palm of one hand. It was intended to keep him from escaping, but now it's useful. He can't, physically can't, reveal that he's recognised Alucard.)
He follows. He isn't sure he'd be capable of it were he not under orders, but it isn't a matter of what he can do. It's a matter of what he must. Soon the noise of the market fades, and there is only him and Alucard and the sunrise. ]
[Alucard keeps walking. They're not out of sight of the market yet, and in any other place, any other space, he'd be wresting the chains off and embracing Trevor.
But there are eyes still on them, and so that means walking a while more, until a dark little corner of the forest appears, and Alucard knows that it is all he needs. He murmurs the same words that have helped him before, for the dead travel fast, and the dark tunnel appears.
It's a risk, taking Trevor through the dark space meant for the dead. But it is the quickest route to Sypha, and that is all that matters. There is silence, and the tunnel moves them through it quickly, depositing them both at the mouth of the cave that has provided the three quiet shelter over the winter months.
There's no good way to announce himself, and so Alucard lets all the panic and fear and fury out in one awful swoop.]
[ This isn't a place where he belongs. Moths try to detach from him, dying with every second spent here, but they can't. The iron renders their corpses part of him, dead and rotting things stuck inside him. The journey is mercifully short.
Sypha is with them in seconds, hands fumbling with the wires that hold the bridle in place. It's not as well made as it would be were using heat in its construction on option, and so despite the lack of an obvious way to undo it she has it removed quickly. The thing in his mouth comes away bloody - a thin spike lanced through his tongue to keep it in place.
Trevor himself doesn't move except to sing forward slightly in relief. He waits for further instructions, blue-green blood dribbling from one corner of his mouth. ]
[Alucard runs towards one of the alcoves first, grabbing the nearest fur and then running back with it. He's using vampire speed for the action, only because it's important. They have to undo the spellwork, but that'll take time. For now, for now comfort is king.
He drapes the heavy fur around Trevor's shoulder and starts to guide him inside, saying nothing but his grip well, like iron.]
You're here. You're safe.
[Alucard's voice trembles. He doesn't know how true the words really are.]
We're going to get the iron off first, then undo all of the spells, okay?
[He uses the sleeve of his own coat to press against Trevor's mouth. The blood isn't a flood, not yet.]
We have you. Your sisters will be here soon, even if they can't draw close.
[ He nods. Moving his tongue to speak still feels unnatural. Painful, too, though that's not the problem. More- it just seems wrong, like something he shouldn't be allowed to be capable of doing.
Sypha makes short work of the iron. What doesn't have obvious fastenings she gives a soft, apologetic warning before freezing and then heating in quick succession until they break away. If Trevor recognises the sensation of the metal on him being heated, he doesn't seem to give any indication.
With all the chains removed, she flicks her hand. The fire in the pit burns blue, then pure white, rendering the entire cave so uncomfortably hot that the edges of her robes and the furs start to catch from just the heat of the air. She indicates to Alucard to toss the metal into it. Nullify the iron with heat, so that it's no longer cold-forged.
The heat lasts for as long as she can maintain it without burning any of them too badly with their proximity to it and then the fire is gone. Just a smoldering, stinking lump of metal in the fire pit. The heat passes, a blessedly cold wind coming in through the entrance of the cave with the first light of the sun. Trevor's hand falls onto hers, moving over it uncertainly, as if he's forgotten how one is meant to hold hands. His other hand reaches out to Alucard. ]
[The heat of the fire needed to melt the iron has Alucard backing away as much as he can. It's better to not be on fire in his experience, and the fears and dreams of his mother suffering that fate have been on-going for some time now.
He keeps beside Trevor, but his eyes remain on the fire should it get out of control. The furs are almost sacrificed, but in the end, it only claims the metal.
THat little lump feels like a hard won victory that they didn't know they had to chase. The stench of melted metal is sharp, but that too is a good thing. Alucard stares at it, wanting to move it out immediately, but Trevor takes his hand instead, and Alucard is anchored.
Fuck holding hands. He pulls Trevor in close, and Alucard holds fast, burying his face in the top of Trevor's head.]
[ He nods, and Sypha is the one to lead both of them to sit. The cave is still uncomfortably hot but her presence is cooling. Soothing. The ink is still all over Trevor but that, that she'll need more time to undo. It can wait. This is more important anyway. Being between the two of them as his calm finally starts to waver and the his hands start to tremble- that's more important than anything. It takes a few tries for Trevor to speak and he continues making thick, sloppy attempts at noises as Sypha piles furs around him, pulls the both of them in against Alucard. ]
...shit. [ He finally manages. His voice is strange, tongue swollen from the bridle. Another few attempts before- ] Sorry.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ A little way away, at a stall for ingredients of various kinds, a shopkeep cuts part of an antler off and grinds it into powder for a waiting client.
The man who caught Alucard's attention pushes a blank piece of paper into his hands. A moment later, dips a brush into a bottle of clear liquid and runs it over the paper, 'accidentally' missing a few lines. Best not to reveal to a servant of Dracula's where Dracula's few laws have been broken, after all. Where the liquid is brushed over, words form. It's a list of merchandise, with details and prices. He taps a finger at the bottom of the list. ]
Selkie - Unknown - Unavailable
Forgemaster - Greek - SOLD
Fae - French - For Sale
I'm afraid that the last of our stock of forgemasters has gone to another client only recently. I offer confidentiality, so I couldn't possibly let you know who intends to raise an army. Not for free. But I'm certain some of my other merchandise might be of interest.
no subject
He looks down at the piece of paper, noticing the blank lines. This is a thriving trade then. Alucard refuses to dwell on how much or little his father may know of it.
But it has Trevor. That is progress, more than any of them had made so far, and perhaps the spells that bind him here are why no one has been able to track him. With that, Alucard's eyes return to the salesman, gold and cold and glinting.]
The information is more than enough in the case of the forgemasters. [And that is a truth.]
I will see the only available listed item then. You'll bring it out here, in front of others, so that the truth of the listing can be verified. Usually I would not be concerned, but I am sure you understand that the matter of who I speak on behalf of requires certain additional steps.
no subject
[ The man vanishes into one of the wagons. There are noises - demands to stand and walk, the dragging of metal on the wagon's wooden floor.
The figure that stumbles out is barely recognisable. The lower part of his face is obscured by the kind of bridle used to punish scolds and boasts, the upper part of it by the thick iron wires and leather straps holding it in place. One of the wires has been knocked out of place and digs into the side of his face, the flesh trying and failing to heal around it. His antlers are gone, cut away so close to the skull that what remains of his hair obscures the base of them.
As he misses a step and falls to the ground it becomes clear that his wings are gone, too. He is naked and his skin is covered with a mixture of symbols and words, written in purple-black ink. ]
Stand. [ The merchant orders. He does not. The man narrows his eyes, taking a quill and a jar of ink, and proceeds to write 'stand' across his back. ] He is difficult about verbal commands, as you can see, but nearly all of his kind can be controlled in this manner.
[ The ink hisses as sinks in to the scratches made by the pen - it's actually fairly pale. The dark purple colour, it becomes clear, comes from the bruising it causes. As it does, Trevor pushes himself to his feet. He doesn't seem to notice Alucard, staring past him. ]
no subject
--Fuck.
All Alucard wants to do is sweep in, tear off every chain on Trevor, and carry him back to Sypha. This is awful. The kind of thing that would make his father seethe about humanity never being worth dealing with in the first place, but perhaps even more so. This is beyond keeping one prisoner for sale, this is mutilation for no reason at all.
The stench of iron dominates, not only for the chains but the things written on Trevor's flesh. He understands the ink's power - there's iron in it. Iron to bind. Iron to control.
Bile rises up Alucard's throat.]
He is not whole, I see.
[The payment for this sort of thing would be too high, and Alucard doesn't trust a man that has this much magic in him. Best to bargain and get out as quickly as possible.]
no subject
[ The salesman tuts, reaching up to fix the out of place wire on the bridle, a reproach about struggling too much under his breath. ]
Consider it an investment. All of it will grow back, of course, and in the meantime the dulled senses and disorientation make them far more obedient and easy to train. You can convince them to make any promise at all.
no subject
Alucard doesn't flinch as he watches the bridle be adjusted. Don't look away. He can't look away, because that would give his connection to the Belmont away and make the situation harder.]
I expect the missing parts are reflected in your asking price.
no subject
For a client like your master, I can lower the price by the going rate for a pair of antlers and wings. I'll throw in a few bottles of the ink, too, for the damage he's managed to do to himself.
no subject
These are anchoring thoughts. The kind that help him focus on not flying off the handle, on remaining calm, on not tearing the entire market apart in a rage.
Then the source of that rage addresses Alucard, and he frowns thinly.]
I see. For reasons that are obvious, cash is the only acceptable form of payment.
[Easier to part with gold than to offer body parts or memories or other magic bits.]
no subject
[ There's recognition in Trevor's eyes, at that. His senses are too dulled by pain and the loss of his antlers to recognise Alucard, but he can just about hear that name. Is that where he's being taken? To Dracula? Shit. What if Dracula interprets this as a failure? What if he punishes Sypha for his own being captured?
While the merchant speaks, he reaches blindly at the table of papers nearby, for that blank page written in magic ink. That, he can give to him. Use it to bargain, maybe. There's information there that Dracula would want to see.
The merchant turns back too soon, and he has to withdraw his hand quickly to avoid being caught. ]
We have a deal, then?
no subject
[He wants to get out of here and rush it, but that was the problem the first time he had to make some kind of choice that could get the other two hurt, wasn't it? He had to force Trevor to summon Leon to negotiate a better deal.
Not. Again.]
no subject
[ The merchant turns, assembling a stack of papers. Instructions for proper control of Trevor's kind. All of the information that he's been able to gather that makes this look like a good deal, and none of what might make it seem unfavourable. Trevor can just about tell whats going on and when the merchant turns back to confirm the price of the antlers and wings, to knock down the cost by that much, he slips that blank paper into the stack. No need for the ink to reveal the words, Dracula will find a way.
Trading in fairies and forgemasters is one thing. Trading in young fledglings is information that Dracula might want to know. It's not much, but it's the only thing he has to offer.
The merchant writes down his price on the top page, handing the small stack of papers to Alucard. ]
Please, take all the time you like. I should warn you, however, that there are other interested buyers. I can hold him a little while as a favour to your master, but not for too long.
no subject
[It's an automatic question as Alucard watches the papers be assembled. He doesn't care about the rest of it. Just tell him the sodding price and let the matter be absolutely done for.
He waits though, as patient as he can manage given the circumstances. It's not much, and there's a low rumbling fire of anger that's threatening to erupt.
Then he sees the price, and it almost does.]
This is more coin than I have on my person at the moment.
no subject
[ The merchant considers, then shakes his head. He wants Dracula as a customer, but he can't go lower than that. It's rare to come across a fairy so easily captured. ]
Take the papers, then. Have your master look through them. I'm sure he will find our price to be very reasonable. My market will be here for another two days, and I will hold him for that long.
no subject
Our words are worth their weight. I expect yours will be as well.
no subject
Of course. Give my regards to your master, and I will see you in two days.
no subject
He returns just before sunrise. The in between hours involved returning home and bursting into a rage that if Alucard squinted, seemed to put a look on his father's face that was closer to proud than anything else. It was hidden by his own blank face at the ton of paperwork, and the fury that such trafficking was on going without his say so.
That was a matter to attend to in the near future.
Alucard places bags down. All gold, all with their exact weights labeled in Dracula's meticulous handwriting. The timing is on purpose - to force a quick sale, and to get Trevor out as soon as possible.]
This is in addition to what I gave you earlier.
no subject
Oh, it'll mean that he has to stop trading in Dracula's own subjects. But the opportunities! With both Dracula and his rival as clients- a few words in the right ears, a little work digging up forgemasters, and he can be arming both sides of a war. The potential profits!
He grins. ]
It would seem we have a deal, then. A moment - I know your time is short.
[ Alucard is obviously a full vampire, after all, with limited time before sunrise. Once again, he drags Trevor out. He hands a chain attached to the brindle to Alucard, and takes one of Trevor's arms. Upon it he writes 'you will follow the buyer's instructions' before offering the quill and a bottle of ink to Alucard as well. ]
He will do as you say for as long as the writing remains in place. If it fades, simply write a new order. Do not let him speak unless you are confident that you can have him make a promise with you - his kind are wont to trap people in bargains.
The missing parts will grow back within a few months. You will have until then to have him swear loyalty to your master. After that, the ink and iron should not be needed.
no subject
His hands are rock steady as he is handed the chain. He wants to wretch from the idea, and he knows that the only advantage with him now is that a) he can spirit them both away quickly and b) he can remain after sunrise. Just this once.]
I understand. Forgive me if I must speed my departure.
[That means nothing like a handshake to seal this cursed deal or anything of the sort. That is to Alucard's personal preference, but why would he want to touch the man who's done this to Trevor?
There's that cold, commanding voice of compulsion that he employs instead of relying on any other instruction. He doesn't wish to deal with anything else.]
Come along then.
[In his single moment of lucidity, he had contacted Sypha. Told her to be at the cave and that nothing was good. But that had been all.]
no subject
(No sudden movements, over the palm of one hand. It was intended to keep him from escaping, but now it's useful. He can't, physically can't, reveal that he's recognised Alucard.)
He follows. He isn't sure he'd be capable of it were he not under orders, but it isn't a matter of what he can do. It's a matter of what he must. Soon the noise of the market fades, and there is only him and Alucard and the sunrise. ]
no subject
But there are eyes still on them, and so that means walking a while more, until a dark little corner of the forest appears, and Alucard knows that it is all he needs. He murmurs the same words that have helped him before, for the dead travel fast, and the dark tunnel appears.
It's a risk, taking Trevor through the dark space meant for the dead. But it is the quickest route to Sypha, and that is all that matters. There is silence, and the tunnel moves them through it quickly, depositing them both at the mouth of the cave that has provided the three quiet shelter over the winter months.
There's no good way to announce himself, and so Alucard lets all the panic and fear and fury out in one awful swoop.]
Sypha?!
no subject
Sypha is with them in seconds, hands fumbling with the wires that hold the bridle in place. It's not as well made as it would be were using heat in its construction on option, and so despite the lack of an obvious way to undo it she has it removed quickly. The thing in his mouth comes away bloody - a thin spike lanced through his tongue to keep it in place.
Trevor himself doesn't move except to sing forward slightly in relief. He waits for further instructions, blue-green blood dribbling from one corner of his mouth. ]
no subject
He drapes the heavy fur around Trevor's shoulder and starts to guide him inside, saying nothing but his grip well, like iron.]
You're here. You're safe.
[Alucard's voice trembles. He doesn't know how true the words really are.]
We're going to get the iron off first, then undo all of the spells, okay?
[He uses the sleeve of his own coat to press against Trevor's mouth. The blood isn't a flood, not yet.]
We have you. Your sisters will be here soon, even if they can't draw close.
no subject
Sypha makes short work of the iron. What doesn't have obvious fastenings she gives a soft, apologetic warning before freezing and then heating in quick succession until they break away. If Trevor recognises the sensation of the metal on him being heated, he doesn't seem to give any indication.
With all the chains removed, she flicks her hand. The fire in the pit burns blue, then pure white, rendering the entire cave so uncomfortably hot that the edges of her robes and the furs start to catch from just the heat of the air. She indicates to Alucard to toss the metal into it. Nullify the iron with heat, so that it's no longer cold-forged.
The heat lasts for as long as she can maintain it without burning any of them too badly with their proximity to it and then the fire is gone. Just a smoldering, stinking lump of metal in the fire pit. The heat passes, a blessedly cold wind coming in through the entrance of the cave with the first light of the sun. Trevor's hand falls onto hers, moving over it uncertainly, as if he's forgotten how one is meant to hold hands. His other hand reaches out to Alucard. ]
no subject
He keeps beside Trevor, but his eyes remain on the fire should it get out of control. The furs are almost sacrificed, but in the end, it only claims the metal.
THat little lump feels like a hard won victory that they didn't know they had to chase. The stench of melted metal is sharp, but that too is a good thing. Alucard stares at it, wanting to move it out immediately, but Trevor takes his hand instead, and Alucard is anchored.
Fuck holding hands. He pulls Trevor in close, and Alucard holds fast, burying his face in the top of Trevor's head.]
Let's get you sat down.
no subject
...shit. [ He finally manages. His voice is strange, tongue swollen from the bridle. Another few attempts before- ] Sorry.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)