A son whose family is about to be torn apart by a stupid, ambitious man.
[The breath on the back of his neck is much too warm. Alucard's shoulders tense, but he doesn't move. The light stays where it is.]
I am Adrian Tepes, otherwise known in this country as Alucard. My father is Vlad Dracula Tepes, my mother is Lisa of Lupu. You cannot begin to imagine what will befall this place if my mother is murdered by a man and a crowd of idiots.
[He's fucked up. But it doesn't matter. Lisa of Lupu will live. Dracula's rage will be muted. It can be weathered. Everything will endure.]
How do we save my mother?
[There's a tenderness to the way the paw reaches for the statue. Something else has com to pass here. He doesn't know what. Right now, it doesn't matter.]
[ The creature moves past Alucard, past the stone speaker, to one of the climbing roses holding the Belmont estate together. It’s massive, a dark, scarred creature.
It plucks one, then drops it at Alucard’s feet. ]
Plant it at the threshold of whichever church means to play host to this nonsense, then prick your finger on one of its thorns. Those who share your blood will be safe.
When Alucard crouches down to pick up the rose, his eyes go upward. He can see the creature is furry and scarred, but truly it must be more specific than that. Not just a giant fluffy mass.]
Or do I have a moment to explain to her what has happened?
A month. [Alucard breathes out, and there's a little bit of relief.] Thank you.
[It will be awful, but his mother will know what's happened. Even if he's about to agree to lying to Dracula. The creature hasn't said anything about his mother.]
[ The presence leaves, footsteps becoming more and more distant until it’s only Alucard’s enhanced hearing that can tell when they stop. The stone speaker remains, staring unblinkingly.
The rose takes root, even in the snow and frozen earth, and it’s scent is powerful. The day of the execution comes and as each man passes through the door, they fall into a trance. All proceeds as it should, save for that the bishop is bound upon the stake while the crown turns to Lisa, still in her chains and prisoner’s rags, to hear her condemn the witch.
She does not, of course. When they try to burn the bishop she commands them to stop and to release him. She leaves, carrying the wicked man on her back, and demands that Dracula treat his burns, that he prove himself the better man.
This is how Lisa returns to the castle, dragging a gibbering wreck of a holy man behind her. ]
[Alucard goes. He goes as a wolf, carrying the rose in his mouth. He flies as a bat, holding onto the enchanted flower with all his might. He walks as a man through Targoviste in the earliest hours of the morning, and then he is a bat again.
He watches everything unfold as a bat, tucked safely away under a roof. And...it works. The Belmont curse works, and Alucard flies home ahead of his mother to let his father know that there will be no need for revenge.
It does not stop Dracula's anger. Lisa has brought a man of God who sought her death to the castle. That alone begins a nightmare of a fight, and so Alucard retreats from it. Waits until his mother finds him and asks what her son did to free her.
The creature said to only lie to Dracula. It said nothing of telling his mother the truth, and so Alucard shares all. Even that he must lie to his father's face about the three years and three days.
By the end of it, well. There's no denying the pain on Lisa's face, but she brings her son into a tight embrace. Kisses the top of his head and tells him that she understands. That in the longest possible terms, it was the right thing.
A week later, Alucard lies to Dracula about the three years and three days. His wrath is muted by Lisa only minutes later who is able to share the truth.
The month goes by.
Alucard arrives at the estate. He has four travel bags, two slung over each shoulder. Clothes and food and supplies. Two bags of books to hopefully lift this curse.]
[ It is by daylight, this time, though the clouds are thick enough to cast a shadow over everything. And so Alucard can see the place where the stone speaker was. And he can see the creature that stalks out of the old house to greet him.
It's a large bear, dark brown, its hide covered in old scars. One of its eyes has been slashed some time ago, the eyeball itself only just surviving. Roots push the skin and fur up like scar tissue in places, and where it does rose plants sprout from old injuries, some in bloom and some rotting away and dying.
It leads Alucard into the old Belmont home. Parts of it are scorched still, parts of it woven together by stems and roots and flowers. ]
The south wing will be yours, and I will not enter it without your permission. Your wife is there, and you will love her. You will speak to her and read to her and take meals with- no, not that one. You would have to move her to the dining room and back every day. Kiss her goodnight before you sleep.
[ It sounds suspiciously like that part he's making up as he goes along, trying very hard to think of things that people do with wives that are compatible with one being a rock. ]
If you require blood, you will find a willing donor in the gardens on the night of the new moon.
Alucard saw the paw and thought it might be some large, furry thing but he doesn't know why a bear surprises him. Only that it does, and then he realizes how truly pained the thing looks. The eye, oh, it probably doesn't work at all. The thorns that pierce through the skin though? It's a new kind of horror, and Alucard can't imagine the pain of it on a daily basis.
He follows after the bear quietly, bags coming with him. Surveying the damage, he quietly wonders what can truly be rebuilt. He'll have three years, and that will demand Alucard find time.
Besides, he has built before. He can build here.
The instructions are simple. They boil down to treating the statue as a person, and there's something deeper there that Alucard knows better than to probe.]
Does she have a name?
[She must.
And as the bear keeps talking, a problem arises.]
I need blood more frequently than that. But I can take from non-human sources and be sustained.
[ The wing he leads Alucard to is the most intact place in the estate. The further they go, the less the walls and furniture have been touched by flames. ]
Animal blood for most of the month, then. Human at new moons. That can be arranged.
[ He reaches a door, and then pauses. ]
I need your leave to go further.
[ He's serious about not entering the space without Alucard's permission. ]
[ This wing is the part of the estate least touched by the flames and curse, and it looks to have once been a part of the house used for living rather than work or entertaining. The door opens into a kitchen, cleaned recently but clearly not used in years. Beyond it is a hallway which leads to a dining room and a few rooms that look like they might have once belonged to staff.
Up a staircase, the rooms are still spartan in their decoration, but they look more like their owners considered them their own. The statue of the speaker is in one of them, one with rugs worn away in little circles where dogs might have slept in the same spots every night and the floor littered with little piles of books filled with page markers. She's been arranged so that she's by a small desk, a book opened in front of her unblinking eyes and a shawl draped over her shoulders. ]
[It makes that part of life just a little bit easier.
How this place managed to survive feels like a small miracle of it's own, although it isn't a thought Alucard would ever voice. He simply moves over the grounds, noting what he'll have to do first. Clean the kitchen is the most important part. The dining room is not important. Nor are most of the others, until they reach the bedrooms.
He doesn't ask how the bear moved the statue from point A to point B. Alucard accepts that it was done with maybe alarming ease, and then he moves to investigate other rooms.
The one he settles on is one he assumes to be a guest room. There's nothing personal in it, so far as he can tell. Just a bed. A desk. A fireplace.
[Alucard does wince a little at the bear's attempt to fuss with the bed though, and he darts over to try and help. The most he does is put it back down but...progress.]
Here. Here, I'll do that. I brought sheets and furs with me anyway for extra warmth, you don't need to be concerned about things that require more human shaped motor control.
[ He tilts his head at Alucard, then leaves. From the room Sypha was left in, there's a soft- ]
'scuse me.
[ -and then a scraping of stone, followed by heavy footstepts. Getting the statue through the door is the trickiest part - he barely fits through there as it is - and takes a few attempts, but eventually he manages it without knocking off any of her fingers. He puts her down, rearranging her shawl. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ There are footsteps, but the figure doesn’t move. It falls silent for a while, thinking. ]
How do you intend to pay?
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To do this is to save all of Wallachia from destruction at the hands of vampires. [He knows what a Belmont is. He knows what they hunt.]
And if this place is as cursed as all say, then perhaps I can lift it.
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[ The footsteps and smell of fur move behind Alucard, until there’s breath on the back of his neck. The figure still has not moved. ]
Wallachia doesn’t want to be saved from vampires. Who are you to deny its wishes?
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[The breath on the back of his neck is much too warm. Alucard's shoulders tense, but he doesn't move. The light stays where it is.]
I am Adrian Tepes, otherwise known in this country as Alucard. My father is Vlad Dracula Tepes, my mother is Lisa of Lupu. You cannot begin to imagine what will befall this place if my mother is murdered by a man and a crowd of idiots.
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The voice falls silent again. It’s still behind Alucard when it finally speaks. ]
Three years and three days. You will return here, once your mother is safe, and stay for three years and three days.
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[Alucard can only hope. He should just say yes. But he knows that this will be a hated thing. He cannot help that.]
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[ A few seconds silence, and then- ]
You will be safe so long as you keep your word. Take a few steps forward, and hold up your lamp.
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[He'd only hesitate longer.
No more. Alucard walks forward. One step. A second. The third. Three seems right, somehow, and then he lifts the lamp.]
I enter into this agreement freely and of my own will.
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The thing behind Alucard moves closer. ]
Your wife, so long as you live here.
[ A long, furry arm reaches out from behind him to touch the stone speaker’s cheek. ]
This is what happens to oath breakers. Remember that.
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[He's fucked up. But it doesn't matter. Lisa of Lupu will live. Dracula's rage will be muted. It can be weathered. Everything will endure.]
How do we save my mother?
[There's a tenderness to the way the paw reaches for the statue. Something else has com to pass here. He doesn't know what. Right now, it doesn't matter.]
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It plucks one, then drops it at Alucard’s feet. ]
Plant it at the threshold of whichever church means to play host to this nonsense, then prick your finger on one of its thorns. Those who share your blood will be safe.
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[The question has the tone of clarification.
When Alucard crouches down to pick up the rose, his eyes go upward. He can see the creature is furry and scarred, but truly it must be more specific than that. Not just a giant fluffy mass.]
Or do I have a moment to explain to her what has happened?
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[ A long pause. A growl. ]
Tell your father that you will suffer here. Tell him that he cannot prevent this now, only collect what remains of you when the time is done.
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[It will be awful, but his mother will know what's happened. Even if he's about to agree to lying to Dracula. The creature hasn't said anything about his mother.]
I will go now, with your leave.
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[ The presence leaves, footsteps becoming more and more distant until it’s only Alucard’s enhanced hearing that can tell when they stop. The stone speaker remains, staring unblinkingly.
The rose takes root, even in the snow and frozen earth, and it’s scent is powerful. The day of the execution comes and as each man passes through the door, they fall into a trance. All proceeds as it should, save for that the bishop is bound upon the stake while the crown turns to Lisa, still in her chains and prisoner’s rags, to hear her condemn the witch.
She does not, of course. When they try to burn the bishop she commands them to stop and to release him. She leaves, carrying the wicked man on her back, and demands that Dracula treat his burns, that he prove himself the better man.
This is how Lisa returns to the castle, dragging a gibbering wreck of a holy man behind her. ]
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He watches everything unfold as a bat, tucked safely away under a roof. And...it works. The Belmont curse works, and Alucard flies home ahead of his mother to let his father know that there will be no need for revenge.
It does not stop Dracula's anger. Lisa has brought a man of God who sought her death to the castle. That alone begins a nightmare of a fight, and so Alucard retreats from it. Waits until his mother finds him and asks what her son did to free her.
The creature said to only lie to Dracula. It said nothing of telling his mother the truth, and so Alucard shares all. Even that he must lie to his father's face about the three years and three days.
By the end of it, well. There's no denying the pain on Lisa's face, but she brings her son into a tight embrace. Kisses the top of his head and tells him that she understands. That in the longest possible terms, it was the right thing.
A week later, Alucard lies to Dracula about the three years and three days. His wrath is muted by Lisa only minutes later who is able to share the truth.
The month goes by.
Alucard arrives at the estate. He has four travel bags, two slung over each shoulder. Clothes and food and supplies. Two bags of books to hopefully lift this curse.]
I've returned, as per our agreement.
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[ It is by daylight, this time, though the clouds are thick enough to cast a shadow over everything. And so Alucard can see the place where the stone speaker was. And he can see the creature that stalks out of the old house to greet him.
It's a large bear, dark brown, its hide covered in old scars. One of its eyes has been slashed some time ago, the eyeball itself only just surviving. Roots push the skin and fur up like scar tissue in places, and where it does rose plants sprout from old injuries, some in bloom and some rotting away and dying.
It leads Alucard into the old Belmont home. Parts of it are scorched still, parts of it woven together by stems and roots and flowers. ]
The south wing will be yours, and I will not enter it without your permission. Your wife is there, and you will love her. You will speak to her and read to her and take meals with- no, not that one. You would have to move her to the dining room and back every day. Kiss her goodnight before you sleep.
[ It sounds suspiciously like that part he's making up as he goes along, trying very hard to think of things that people do with wives that are compatible with one being a rock. ]
If you require blood, you will find a willing donor in the gardens on the night of the new moon.
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Alucard saw the paw and thought it might be some large, furry thing but he doesn't know why a bear surprises him. Only that it does, and then he realizes how truly pained the thing looks. The eye, oh, it probably doesn't work at all. The thorns that pierce through the skin though? It's a new kind of horror, and Alucard can't imagine the pain of it on a daily basis.
He follows after the bear quietly, bags coming with him. Surveying the damage, he quietly wonders what can truly be rebuilt. He'll have three years, and that will demand Alucard find time.
Besides, he has built before. He can build here.
The instructions are simple. They boil down to treating the statue as a person, and there's something deeper there that Alucard knows better than to probe.]
Does she have a name?
[She must.
And as the bear keeps talking, a problem arises.]
I need blood more frequently than that. But I can take from non-human sources and be sustained.
no subject
[ The wing he leads Alucard to is the most intact place in the estate. The further they go, the less the walls and furniture have been touched by flames. ]
Animal blood for most of the month, then. Human at new moons. That can be arranged.
[ He reaches a door, and then pauses. ]
I need your leave to go further.
[ He's serious about not entering the space without Alucard's permission. ]
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[He repeats the name softly, like that might give him even a fraction of insight into the speaker. It doesn't, and Alucard falls silent again.]
In truth, I can survive fully without human blood. And prefer it that way.
[It's a detail he wants to be clear about. And then they're at the door, and Alucard's hand not only opens the door, but holds it for the bear.]
Please come in.
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[ This wing is the part of the estate least touched by the flames and curse, and it looks to have once been a part of the house used for living rather than work or entertaining. The door opens into a kitchen, cleaned recently but clearly not used in years. Beyond it is a hallway which leads to a dining room and a few rooms that look like they might have once belonged to staff.
Up a staircase, the rooms are still spartan in their decoration, but they look more like their owners considered them their own. The statue of the speaker is in one of them, one with rugs worn away in little circles where dogs might have slept in the same spots every night and the floor littered with little piles of books filled with page markers. She's been arranged so that she's by a small desk, a book opened in front of her unblinking eyes and a shawl draped over her shoulders. ]
Use whichever room you like. I'll move her there.
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[It makes that part of life just a little bit easier.
How this place managed to survive feels like a small miracle of it's own, although it isn't a thought Alucard would ever voice. He simply moves over the grounds, noting what he'll have to do first. Clean the kitchen is the most important part. The dining room is not important. Nor are most of the others, until they reach the bedrooms.
He doesn't ask how the bear moved the statue from point A to point B. Alucard accepts that it was done with maybe alarming ease, and then he moves to investigate other rooms.
The one he settles on is one he assumes to be a guest room. There's nothing personal in it, so far as he can tell. Just a bed. A desk. A fireplace.
Alucard lingers in the doorway.]
This wasn't anyone's room, was it?
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[ The bear moves into the room, grabs at the top sheet of the bed and shakes it about, sending dust flying around. Then attempts to put it back.
Local bear has not had to make a bed in a decade, does not quite recall how. ]
Should I bring her here?
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[Alucard does wince a little at the bear's attempt to fuss with the bed though, and he darts over to try and help. The most he does is put it back down but...progress.]
Here. Here, I'll do that. I brought sheets and furs with me anyway for extra warmth, you don't need to be concerned about things that require more human shaped motor control.
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'scuse me.
[ -and then a scraping of stone, followed by heavy footstepts. Getting the statue through the door is the trickiest part - he barely fits through there as it is - and takes a few attempts, but eventually he manages it without knocking off any of her fingers. He puts her down, rearranging her shawl. ]
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