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Chapter Text

Far away, he heard the wind rushing past the walls of the castle. He heard birdcalls in the forest. He saw little floating dust particles in the beam of sunlight coming from the window. He smelled stale air, dust and ashes. He smelled blood. The room reeked of iron.
His eyes stung. His body hurt. How long had he been here? His muscles felt weak and he was tired, even though he had not moved in- hours? Days?
His joints ached from extended contact with the wooden floor. He sat up. Or, he tried, but his muscles protested so badly he fell back down to the floor, gasping for air. He tried again. He braced for the burn in his chest this time, so he was able to persevere through it.
There was an outline of blood and disturbed dust where he’d lain. There was more dust in the air, now. It had settled on his skin, and his movement had agitated it.
He did not know how long he remained seated for, but when he looked around again the sun had gone down. He got off the floor on unsteady legs. He walked down the hallway, keeping his balance by gripping the wall. He descended the stairs, avoided the bloody footprints on the rust-red carpet. He walked past his old room. He shut the door as he went. He did not look inside. He already knew what he’d find there, anyways. He sat down heavily on a chair in the kitchen. He positioned it in a corner, so that he could see the whole room without leaving his back unguarded. There was no one else in the castle. “I didn’t lie to you,” he told the empty air. It did not respond.
He’d thought himself empty, but tears came again. There was dust on the table. Had he been away for that long? The air smelled stale here, too. The stench of iron had not left his nose even once. Then again, he realised, he was carrying around a bloody blanket. He dropped it quickly, like it burned. He hissed at it.
He left the kitchen via the storage cellar door, into the vegetable patch. It had overgrown. Weeds were choking his mint and overcrowding his planting pots. He couldn’t find it within himself to care.
He walked into the forest, to the river. He would not soil a perfectly good bath with his person.
The cold of the water helped him gather his thoughts. He watched grime and dried blood peel off his skin, flow out of his hair. “I should eat,” he told the empty air.
He focused, loosened his body. His edges melted and restructured. The world felt a lot different on four paws. He smelled a pheasant, not far away. It would not get away from him.

He bathed again, to rid himself of feathers and gore. He walked back to the castle, but halted at the treeline. He had put them there, hadn’t he? What was he even thinking? Not much, probably. Even now, he felt so angry and hurt and sad, the emotions roiling in his gut like a thunderstorm, he was barely capable of intelligent thought. He went to the garden patch. He slept in the kitchen, curled up in front of the unlit hearth.

The sun was past its peak when he stirred next. The food had done him good, but his body needed more time to restore what had been done to him. His mind, even more so.
He got up and roamed the castle for a new place to settle. He would not enter that room again. He imagined he could smell what had happened there, through the closed door. Perhaps he really could. A Dhampir’s senses came only just shy of the abilities of a full-blooded vampire.
He chose a room on the other side of the castle, a guest room connected to the main hall via a series of labyrinthine corridors. There were clothes and sheets there, meant for guests to make themselves comfortable. He made himself comfortable.

There was dust in his fur when he woke up. He could not tell if it was because he’d slept for so long, or if the room was just that stale. He went to the river again. In the dark of night, he caught a fish and ate it, uncaring about the gore on his face and pelt. Not satisfied, he caught a squirrel, and a dove. The water was nice. He stayed until the sun came up.
In the light of dawn he walked to the castle, on two legs. He made a point to use the front entrance. They held no power over him, no matter what his shaking hands had to say about it.

He slept in his quest bed again. His human brain, fed and active, had enough energy left to conjure up nightmares. He dreamt of hands ghosting along his body, of long, dark hair. He dreamt of pleasure, pain, embarrassment and humiliation. He awoke in tears and in agony. The scars refused to heal.

He cleaned the kitchen. The dust went easily enough, with water and patience. The bloody blanket was another matter. He could not stand to wash it, or to return it to the room. He dragged it into the garden and burned it. The smell of smoke overwhelmed the stink of blood, for a little while.
He cooked an actual dinner, that night. He had steamed fish, and vegetable soup. He even opened a bottle of white wine, making sure it paired well. All he tasted was fear, and rot.

He dreamt of pleasure again. He awoke with a start, his body humming with it. He wanted to crawl out of his skin. He settled for crying himself into exhaustion. The next dream was of silver and pain. He dreamt of the shame of it all. He had cried himself to sleep, and when he woke up he was crying still. Exhausted, he dragged himself out of bed.

He settled himself into a routine. He had bread for breakfast, with a fruit marmalade or dried meat. He dragged himself into bed and slept through lunch. For dinner, he forced himself to put effort into it. He made soups, and roasted meat. He made pasta from his own flour and eggs, stuffed with mushrooms. He let stews simmer for hours, baked his own bread. He made custard puddings for dessert, or baked sweets. He selected the right wine to pair with, every time. He kept his head empty, and his hands busy.
It all turned to ashes in his mouth.

Gradually, he stopped sleeping through lunch. Instead, he roamed the forest, or the Hold, or the castle. He read, he laboured over dinner. He even took a normal, warm bath, once. The water had turned a little grimy as he scrubbed himself raw. He could not stand to look at himself, so he washed himself with his eyes closed and the lights turned off. He felt a little better, in clean clothes. More human. When he caught sight of himself in the mirror, he broke down in heaving sobs.
They had left their mark.
Under the shirt, the scars crisscrossed his entire body. The form-fitting shirt accentuated the marred skin. He ripped it off his body, fabric turned to shreds and ribbons.
He only wore loose garments from then on, oversized shirts or coats. He couldn’t help thinking of his father’s favoured capes.

When he could manage to leave the bathroom, he only dragged himself to bed. He dreamt of wooden stakes. He dreamt of a dark cloak, and two bodies. He awoke to a wet pillow. Would he ever know peace again? The people he wanted to keep left him, and the people he wanted to forget followed him into his dreams.

He started to improve, a little. He cleared a little rubble out of the Hold. He fixed a hole in the rafters of the castle. He shook the dust out of the bed he occupied. He hunted a pheasant again, but he only took what blood it could give. The animal fled in a rush of feathers as soon as he’d released it. He bathed again. He washed his body in the dark. He could taste his dinner.
He no longer smelled iron and blood wherever he went.
He still avoided the main entrance of the castle. Perhaps he’d been too rash, too harsh and angry. He hadn’t the strength to undo what he’d done to their bodies. Sometimes a chill would wind up his back and he’d put his chair in the corner of the room again. He stayed awake most nights.

Chapter Text

It was a sunny evening in a sleepy town in the far reaches of Wallachia. Jakob and his little brother were chopping mama’s firewood, and she promised she’d cook them all a tasty stew tonight. In the little crop of wood outside of Jakob’s house he sat with his brother, slacking off as children are wont to do.
“.. and then the dragon spat a big firebolt at the brave prince! But the prince was so strong, he could stand in the fire and not even his cape would get burnt. The dragon saw, and tried to crush the prince with his paw. But the prince was so strong, he caught the dragon’s paw and stopped it! The dragon got scared, and got ready to bite the prince...” Jakob made big motions with his arms to show how the dragon lunged at the prince, Matthias listening with rapt attention.

“Jakob! Matthias! Are you done chopping the firewood yet?” His mother stood by the door of their house. She could see the children slacking off, but they were having fun and she was too endeared to get mad at them for it. “Your father will be home soon and I need that wood to cook!”
Matthias looked at Jakob, eager for the rest of the story. “We should hurry up and chop some then, or papa will scold us when he gets back.” At Matthias’ disappointed look, Jakob relented. “I’ll tell you the rest of the story while we work, all right?” “Yes! Then the chopping won’t be so boring!” Glad they found an agreement, they got to work.
Behind their house stood a proper, big forest, nothing like the four or five trees in their garden. They walked further into the woods to look for suitable logs to chop. They couldn’t be too wet, because they wouldn’t burn. They couldn’t be too heavy, because the children were only three-and-ten and seven years old. “The dragon leapt up and tried to bite the prince,” Jakob continued, “But the prince was so strong he could hold the dragon’s jaws apart!” Jakob took up a stance of pushing two big things apart, and mimed a struggle. Matthias wasn’t paying attention to where he walked and almost fell when his foot caught on a branch. They laughed at his clumsiness, before Jakob continued again. “Now the dragon got very scared! It grabbed the prince in its claw and flew a thousand meters into the air!” Jakob looked up at the canopy, and Matthias looked too. If he tried hard enough, could he see the dragon fly?

“The dragon dropped the prince from way high up, but the prince was strong and held on to the dragon’s foot. Together they flew higher and higher, and farther until the dragon couldn’t fly anymore. When it finally landed, the prince got his sword and chopped!-” Jakob made a big swinging motion at Matthias, who flinched and laughed, “-the dragon’s head off in just one swing. And that’s how the prince killed the dragon, and saved the kingdom.” Matthias was overjoyed at the epic ending. “Another one, another one! Tell me the one about the pretty princes and the witch!” “All right,” said Jakob “but after dinner.” Matthias looked at Jakob with a pleading expression, but Jakob didn’t budge this time. “No, after dinner. So let’s make sure mama can make some for us!”

For a while, the only sounds around were of two small axes chopping large branches and logs into child-sized ones, so that they could be carried to the shed for chopping even smaller firewood. “Jakob, can you hear that?” Indeed, now that he paid attention, he could. In the time it took for the children to chop their branches, the sun had nearly set. In the pale glow of the orange sun they stood, listening. Far away, past the treeline, they could hear screaming. Jakob felt a chill at his spine. “Mama! Mama’s in danger!” The children ran as fast they could, their firewood forgotten. Soon they were at the treeline and could see the village, and their house.
The village was on fire. The sun had set, and the bright orange flames consuming the village chapel stood out like a beacon. Their house, where not two hours ago their mama had stood, and their papa would return, had a huge gaping hole in the roof. “What do we do?” asked Matthias, fear in his voice. Jakob tried to sound like a brave big brother, like a fairy-tale prince. “Matthias, go back to where we dropped the firewood.” He tried to smile reassuringly, but it probably didn’t look that way. “I’m going to find mama and papa, and we’ll meet you there.” Matthias saw through the façade. “But-“ he tried. “Go! Hurry! And stay safe.” Jakob hugged his brother quickly, and pushed him into the forest. When Matthias had walked a good few steps away and Jakob made sure he wouldn’t turn around, he snuck toward their house, an iron grip on his small axe.

He stuck close to the trees that sparsely dotted in the fields around the village. One by one, he snuck closer to the house. From closer up he could see the hole in the roof was the size of a horse, like a dragon had dropped a boulder on their house. He looked around him but saw nothing. No animals, or people, and not whoever or whatever was responsible for the destruction of the village. He took his chance to run the last stretch between a tree and their front door.
Inside, it really did look like a boulder had dropped on their house, except there was no boulder in the kitchen. The kitchen cabinets were all swung open and destroyed, the dining table lay on its side near a wall and all the chairs were broken or strewn about. There were long gashes in sets of four over the floor, the walls and the cabinets. He heard nothing inside. No monsters, but no mama either. Jakob took a deep breath for courage and went inside.

He turned left to go to their bedroom. Papa’s job as a carpenter paid them well enough that they could afford a house with a wall between their living room and their bedroom. They all slept in the same room, mama and papa in their big bed, and Jakob and Matthias since recently in their own separate beds. A few months ago Matthias had decided he was getting too old and grown-up to sleep in the same bed as his big brother.
In their bedroom, on mama’s and papa’s bed lay a big dark stain with odd bits of stuff and cloth. The big bed had gashes in the sheets and pillows. On the other side of the bed, on the floor, lay a monster out of nightmares. It scared Jakob so badly he ran back into the kitchen and hid behind the table. When the winged nightmare-come-to-life didn’t follow after him and gobble him up, he went back to the bedroom for a better look.

The nightmare had two big wings and four limbs. It had a weird face, like its teeth were too big for its jaws. It had small horns on its forehead and long talons on every finger and toe. It didn’t have a tail, but Jakob was pretty sure this was the devil that the village mayor was always talking about.
Every Sunday the village would gather at the chapel, and the mayor would read from the Bible, about Satan and God and such. Jakob thought if there was such a thing as a Satan, this must’ve been him. He couldn’t imagine a scarier thing. His curiosity was sated, now that he knew what had caused the destruction in their house and that it was dead. A kitchen knife stuck through its chest, the point of it came out of the thing’s back. He shook the tremors out of his arms.
Now Jakob took a better look at the bed. At first he didn’t know what he was seeing. A big red stain, bigger than that time the butcher spilled a bucket of pig’s blood in the town square. On the stain laid bits of meat in odd shapes. It looked a bit like the dead deer some kids had found in the woods once. Had the devil killed a deer on their parents’ bed? Looking a bit closer still, he saw something smooth and silky near the pillows. Despite the bloodstain, the gore, and the dark, Jakob could tell it was hair. One bit of it looked curly, another bit looked long and straight. A bit like his papa’s, and his mama’s.

Jakob screamed louder than he’d ever had in his life. He stumbled backwards and hit the bedframe of Matthias’ bed. He turned and ran for the woods as fast as his legs possibly could, and a little faster still. This devil, this nightmare, this thing had- had- his mama, and his papa. He’d never see them again. It took them from him!
At the treeline Jakob stopped to vomit up the bile in his stomach. He couldn’t get the sight of the bloodstain out of his head. His head was pounding. Only now he realised he’d dropped his axe when he’d stumbled out of the house. He couldn’t go back for it. He could never come near their old house again. His face was wet. He was panting very hard. His throat was raw and his back hurt from his stumble. He kept running, to the spot he’d meet Matthias. In his head he kept seeing the devil. One knife wasn’t enough. Death wasn’t enough. That thing deserved to burn in Hell forever, as punishment for what it had done.
Jakob fell. He knocked his head on the forest floor and got dazed for a bit. His cheeks were still wet. Papa had said three-and-ten was too old for a boy to cry overly much, but then papa wasn’t here to scold him for it. Jakob wished he was.
With an effort he got up from the ground. He didn’t bother dusting the soil off of his clothes and instead broke into a run again. If he ran fast enough, would the wind blow his memories out of his head? He kept running until he got to the spot where Matthias should be. Only, Matthias wasn’t there. Or perhaps he was. The sight was so similar to the one inside the house Jakob vomited again from the terror of it all. Before him laid a bloodstain, with bits of gore and clothing. Near the edge of it lay a child-sized axe, the handle stained, the blade clean.

Chapter Text

When Jakob finally stood still to think for a second, he realised he had no idea where he was. After finding Matthias, he’d started running again, as fast as he could. He’d ran all the way to the other side of the forest with Mathias’ old axe in his belt. He’d ran past the pastures and the river. He’d crossed the road to a neighbouring town, a day’s ride by wagon. He’d ran over the bridge papa used to say a troll lived under, without finding one. Jakob wasn’t scared of trolls anymore, now that he’d seen a devil. When he finally took a look around, he didn’t recognise his surroundings at all. He was in the middle of a field. Very far behind him, almost two hours of walking away, was the forest he’d come out of. Left of him ran the river whose bridge he’d crossed. To his right and in front of him lay open field as far as he could see. He had never been this far from home before. He’d cried the whole way. He wondered where he would go.

He took Matthias’ axe out from his belt and planted the handle of it into the soil. He let go of it, and the axe fell straight down. He’d keep going straight ahead, then. It was dark out, probably the middle of the night now. Jakob could see infinite stars in the sky above. It was unfair of them to look so pretty, now that his family couldn’t see them anymore. He counted them as he walked, anything to stop his thoughts from returning to the bed, or the forest floor.
That one belonged to the Big Brother Bear, and that one made the panhandle of Little Brother Bear. On his left, shining so bright it reflected off the surface of the river, stood the North Star. Papa said sailors used that star to guide them home. Jakob figured out he must be walking east now. Unbidden tears came again.

Jakob walked until he couldn’t take another step. Field morphed into hill morphed into valley morphed into riverbed as he parted with and met the river again. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking for, but he had blisters on his feet. He hadn’t noticed them until he sat down on a big stone at the riverbed.
Now that he’d given his legs a break, they refused to move even a single step further. Jakob rested. The evening’s ordeals had left him thirsty so he drank from the river, getting his shoes wet. The cold water was bliss for his sore feet, but he knew wet shoes and socks would only cause worse blisters tomorrow. He decided he’d wait for them to dry. He picked a grassy spot to lie down on and watched the clouds go by.

When Jakob woke up the sun had started to rise. The daylight stung his swollen eyes. He was looking directly at it, traveling east like this. His body heat had combined with the tolerable spring air to dry his shoes as he slept. He drank again, this time taking care to stay dry, and took off walking. He didn’t know exactly where he was going. He only knew he had to go somewhere. He knew for sure he couldn’t go home. He thought it over as he walked. If the sun came up from the east, where did it come from? The mayor said the sun circled the earth, but the village elders always held fast to their belief that the sun didn’t circle at all. Every morning, they said, the sun was birthed anew in a land far in the east, and every night it was swallowed by the land to the west.
To Jakob, the sun circling the earth because God had made it so seemed about as likely as a land where the sun was born every morning. He decided to try and find out if the village elders had been right. The devil had only come after sundown. In a land where the sun came from, surely there was no such thing.
In his musings, Jakob had passed the riverbed and was walking through field again, when in the pale morning he spotted chimney smoke at the horizon. He didn’t think that village was quite far enough to be safe yet, but maybe he could find some breakfast there. It took him until well into the morning to reach the village. The smoke had looked deceptively close.

As he approached the village he noticed wagons and tents stationed outside of the village boundaries. He was a little curious, but his hunger won out over his questions. He followed the main road into the village and found the town square in the middle of it. The square had a well and three merchant stalls, all of which were busy and teeming with customers, eager for the morning’s freshest items. The first stall was manned by two thin looking people, a man and a woman, and sold household items like baskets and sewing needles. The second sold raw fish and meat, and was buzzing with more than just customers. The last stall was manned by a kind-looking older man and sold the last fruit and vegetables of last autumn’s harvest. Jakob approached the stall.
“What can I do for you, young man?” asked the merchant. “I’m sorry sir,” began Jakob, “but I don’t have any coin on me. I was wondering if you had any bruised produce left that I could eat for breakfast.” At that, the man’s friendly face soured. “No boy, my produce is always in tip top condition, I don’t have any bruised ones you might take. Besides, I’m not in the business of doing charity. Off with ye!” Jakob scurried off. The lady selling household items saw the exchange and took pity on Jakob. “Boy, come here a moment,” she bade him, and Jakob went.
“Now, my husband and I can’t afford to buy or give you anything, we’re barely getting by ourselves, but good advice is free to give. That caravan outside of town? It’s a Speaker caravan. Do you know the Speakers, boy?” Jakob shook his head. “Speakers make it their mission to aid the people wherever they can. They’ll have some breakfast for you, go on.” Jakob thanked the woman and ran back to the edge of town.

He approached one of the tents and looked around. Now that he was paying attention, he could see people in pretty blue robes running to and fro, arms laden with goods. One of them spotted Jakob and greeted him. “Hello there, young man! Can I help you?” Jakob hesitated. “Well, that is, I was looking for some breakfast, but I don’t have any coin, and, well..” he drawled, but the Speaker understood his intention. “I see, you’re right on time! We’re still handing out breakfast, you’re welcome to join?” Grateful, Jakob nodded and went with the Speaker.
Together they walked further into the camp. “There we are. What’ll it be?” On a table laid a small spread of bread, nuts and fruit. Jakob took a bread roll and an apple. The bread he stuffed in his mouth immediately, the apple he pocketed for later. “Now I don’t mean to pry,” began the Speaker, “but what’s a lone boy doing all the way out here?” The Speaker had a kind face, with freckles and light brown skin. Jakob wanted to trust this person. At the thought of last night he paled, but he spoke.
“My village was attacked by a devil. I ran away, and I kept walking until I saw chimney smoke in the distance. Do you think I’m far away from the devil yet?” Maybe an adult might know where he could stay safely. The Speaker looked at Jakob with pity. “You know, it’s safer to travel with other people. Our caravan is moving towards Braila tomorrow, you could come with us?” “I don’t know where Braila is. I’m moving east, are you?” asked Jakob. “You’re in luck, kid, Braila is in the east. Tonight we’re all packing up, and tomorrow just after daybreak we’ll have breakfast and leave. Are you staying with us until then?” Jakob agreed. The rest of the day Jakob helped put things in boxes, took care of horse tack, and set out the food for dinner.

After dinner, most of the people stuck around and sat down in a group next to a big fire. One of them stood and sat themselves at the front of the group. She had white hair and a kind face. When she spoke, her voice was gentle and easy to listen to. “It is my honour to tell you all tonight’s story. It concerns the myth of an ancient hero and his endlessly long journey away from home. Now, a long time ago, hundreds of years in fact..” Jakob sat and listened to the story. The woman’s voice was so nice, the tone of it so pleasant. Before he knew it, Jakob fell asleep where he sat.

He was woken up by the same woman, tapping his shoulder. “Good evening! How about you get into bed instead of spending the night out here?” Jakob blushed his embarrassment and stood. No one else sat here, so he figured the story must’ve finished a while ago. The woman led him to a tent with three other Speakers in it. “This is where you’ll stay tonight. As you can see, you’ve got some company. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find they’re all very pleasant. Before I go, I’ll give you this; it’s a cloak we had in our stores, just your size. It’ll keep you nice and warm.” Jakob bade her goodnight and went into the tent.
There were four beds there, one in every corner. One had no personal items laying on it, so Jakob assumed he could take it. The beds had no frames. Instead, the mattress, a thick blanket with extra stuffing inside, laid directly on the tarp. He sat on the bed and looked at the other people. They were all busy doing their own things. One was reading, one was doing their hair into a braid and one was mending a hole in their blue cloak. Jakob bade them goodnight as well, and got under his blanket. The brown cloak he put over it, for extra warmth. Last night he’d slept outside, and it was bearable, but this was much more comfortable. He fell asleep quickly.

Jakob dreamt of the devil. He dreamt of lying in his parent’s big bed and the devil barging in through the roof, claws out and a hungry expression on its ugly face. He dreamt of running through the forest, only to be caught by a horned shadow. He awoke with a start when one of the Speakers shook his shoulder. He was sweating, and he was a bit embarrassed to find his checks were wet. He wiped his eyes quickly and looked at the person who’d woken him. They had their dark hair in a braid and pretty dark skin too. When they spoke, their voice was feminine and had an accent. “I’m sorry to wake you up,” they said, “but you were thrashing and crying for help. I thought it better to wake you from your nightmare.” “Thanks. Is it morning yet?” They shook their head. “The sun is still down. Get some sleep, young one.” But Jakob didn’t think he could go back to sleep right now. His heart was racing and his legs felt unsteady. He got up despite his shaky knees and took his cloak with him outside.
That person was right, there wasn’t any sun. There wasn’t even a glimmer of dawn at the horizon. It must’ve been the middle of the night still. It wasn’t so cold that Jakob really needed his cloak, but he put it on anyways. It was thick and heavy and it made him feel safer. Now that he had it on, he noticed the stitching on the edges of it was done with a beautiful blue thread all around. It looked Speaker blue, so a Speaker must’ve mended it. He silently thanked the market woman for her advice. When he’d calmed himself he tried to back to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come. He tossed and turned and tried again, but eventually he gave up. He went outside with his cloak again and sat on one of the wagons laden with boxes. In the stars, he saw his brother’s face. He counted them until morning.

Chapter Text

When dawn peeked over the horizon, the first Speakers got out of their tents and started preparing breakfast. Jakob, still awake, went over and helped. He found the work quite relaxing. As he moved boxes and stacked produce and bread, his mind stopped thinking about his family for a little while. More and more Speakers emerged from their tents, until the breakfast table was very busy and Jakob had to run to keep up with the demand for bread rolls. When everybody had their fill, Jakob ate two bread rolls and as many nuts as he could stuff into his mouth at once. He filled his cloaks pockets with as many nuts as they could hold, too.
After breakfast, like the old man had said, all the tents were broken up and every last belonging was packed. Of course, Jakob only had his axe to worry about, so he helped other people where he could. Not an hour after dawn the camp had started their journey to Braila. People who couldn’t walk very well sat on top of the boxes and tarp in the wagons. Some wagons even had a cloth roof over them. Only very old people or very young children sat in those. Jakob walked.

As he walked, he could see some more people who didn’t wear the blue Speaker robes, like him. Some travelled in wagons because of limb Injuries, others walked with their backs bent. All of them looked very thin in a way that gave Jakob shivers. These people probably couldn’t find work, and had no family. No wonder they all looked a little sad. Jakob wondered if he looked that sad too, and figured he must.
Over the course of the long walk to Braila he talked to some people. Some were Speakers, who delighted in telling him and everyone who would listen a story about whatever topic Jakob could think of. It became a bit of a challenge to find a subject a Speaker didn’t have a story about, but Jakob lost that game. When he walked next to wagons with children in them, he shared his nuts with them to keep them occupied. When he got bored of the walking, he told them the story he’d told Matthias in the woods. Like his brother, the kids loved hearing about the amazing and brave prince saving the kingdom. He didn’t tell them the story of the princess and the witch. That story was reserved for Matthias only, when they found each other again in the kingdom of Heaven. Jakob really hoped there was a Heaven, like in the stories from the Bible. He knew for sure that his family would be there, if there was.

It was during this walk that Jakob heard the most horrible story he’d heard in his life.
A woman was burned at the stake because the church thought her a witch. Really, grown-ups could be so stupid. Even Matthias had known witches were only fairy-tales! Besides, witch or no, being burned sounded like it’d hurt a lot, and Jakob didn’t wish that on anyone.
As it turned out, this woman was married to a very powerful vampire lord named Dracula. Jakob had heard of him. Village elders always said Dracula would come eat naughty children that went out into the forest after dark.
Dracula was so angry at the death of his wife he used powerful evil magic to summon an army out of Hell itself. That army was set loose on all of Wallachia as punishment. Jakob thought that was very harsh of Dracula. Jakob had never even heard of this woman, he had nothing to do with her death.
Then, the story took a happier turn. According to a prophecy (that’s a very old story that predicts the future) a Speaker, a Hunter and a Warrior would come together to defeat Dracula for good. And they had! The brave and good trio had teamed up and stormed Dracula’s castle. They had mowed through his forces and battled him into submission. The people of Wallachia could breathe a sigh of relief!

Except, said an elder in a nearby cart, Dracula didn’t take his summoned army with him when he died. Now, powerful and angry creatures roamed the country for blood, without a leader to tell them to stop. It clicked for Jakob then, that this was what had happened to his family. A loose devil had set its sights on his village and his family. His family wouldn’t have died if things had been any different. If Dracula hadn’t summoned his army, or if his army died with him. His family died for no reason at all. Jakob cried for a very long time after he learned this, and his papa wasn’t around to tell him to stop. Nobody said anything about it.

Past midday Jakob’s feet started to hurt too much and he got too tired to ignore. He sought out a wagon that wasn’t yet full of people and sat in it. He greeted the two other occupants, a woman with a baby in her arms and a man with his leg in a brace. They nodded at him, but didn’t speak. That was no problem for Jakob, and he dozed in the cart until evening. He woke up in a better mood when the caravan stopped moving in the middle of a forest. The sun was getting lower in the sky and the tents needed to be built before it went down. Jakob helped as best he could.
He set up tents and brushed the horses and donkeys, he carried the ingredients for dinner and he helped an older man over to the dinner table. On the table stood an enormous pot of potato and vegetable stew, served with bread. People got their bowls and ate wherever they liked. He thanked the cook for dinner and wolfed it down. For dessert he had yesterday’s apple. He fed the core to a donkey.
Now that the sun had set and dinner was over, people went to find their beds. The mass of people dwindled until almost nobody remained, unlike the night before. Someone else told a story tonight, but Jakob wandered over to an empty wagon instead. In the stars he saw his mama’s face.

The camp was deserted. Everybody was already in their bed, or at least in their tent. Jakob sat alone. A bird call in the forest startled him out of his thoughts. Now that he was alone in the forest at night, he couldn’t help but remember about the last time he was. God, how could a brother that small cause a stain so big? It had seemed never-ending. He got his axe from his belt and fiddled with the handle. The bird called again, and Jakob had a shiver up his spine. Creeped out, he ran for his bed. He didn’t sleep well that night.

The morning was the same as yesterday; lots of packing, eating quickly, getting ready to walk the last stretch to Braila. Around noon the caravan met some travellers who joined up to move to Braila together. Jakob, curious about the newcomers, walked to the back of the caravan where their wagon was. On the wagon sat two people. A Speaker woman with strange robes and beautiful orange hair that looked like fire, and a man with lots of weapons and muscles. They didn’t greet Jakob. They leaned on each other for support and looked very tired.
“Would you like some nuts? I have some left, if you like.” The woman looked up and smiled a tired smile. “No, thank you, but you’re very sweet. Aren’t you tired of walking? Sit in the back of our wagon, we’re all going the same way anyways.” Jakob didn’t need telling twice. He nodded enthusiastically and went to the back of the wagon. He heard the man grumble something too soft for Jakob to hear. The woman responded, and while Jakob couldn’t understand what she’d said, she sounded a bit angry.
As it turned out, Braila was too far to walk in one stretch. When they set up camp that night, Jakob could see torchlight from the city walls in the distance. He knew from his experience with the chimney smoke that Braila must be quite far away still. He helped set up dinner again, and pocketed some leftover fruit for later. He wandered around the camp while everybody else went to their tents. People were too tired for stories tonight. In his wandering he came across the newcomer couple again.

They sat in the back of their wagon, and they were bickering. Even from a distance, he could hear what they were saying. “Trevor, we’ve been over this,” said the woman, “we need to set up a proper camp! I’m already cold at night in a tavern. Do you really want to risk my cold feet without setting up a tent?” “But Sypha,” came the reply, “I’m way too tired to bother with all that. It’s getting spring, your feet will be fine. It’s late already anyways, there’s not enough light to fuck about with a tent now. Just come to bed already, for God’s sake.” Jakob thought he sounded a tad whiny when he said it.
Instead of letting the argument continue, Jakob walked over and interrupted. “I kind of overheard you. I’ve been setting up tents in near dark for days now, I can totally set up yours. If you’d like me to.?” His offer had started a lot more confident than it ended. Sypha looked at Trevor with a triumphant smile. “See, Trevor, even this kid has better manners than you. Yes, we’ll take your help, thank you so much, ride with us again tomorrow if you like.” She jumped out of the back of the wagon. “I’m so cold! Here I’ll get the tarp, you hold the supports.” In a few minutes they had the tent set up. “There! You are such a good kid. So nice, unlike someone else I know.” The last bit of her sentence she said loudly, in the direction of the cart, where a soft snoring sound was coming from. That woke Trevor up, who seemingly instinctively replied “M’coming, coming. Don’t set fire to my hair.” It all seemed like they’d had this interaction before. Jakob told them goodnight and left to wander again.

Jakob still had too much energy in his body to even consider going to sleep. He walked the outskirts of the camp instead, without a destination in mind. He weaved between storage boxes and empty wagons as he watched the treeline. The caravan camped in the woods again. There was no creepy birdcall this time, but he still didn’t like the dark shadows between the trees. Sometimes he could swear he saw a shadow move. He ate an apple just so he had something to do with his hands.

There came a rustling from the trees, too much noise for a bunny or a bird. Again, he could’ve sworn the dark shadows moved in the sparse torchlight. Actually- that one really was moving.
Between the trees a shape came closer. The sight of it made Jakob’s hands sweaty. He called out to it, hoping it was just another person. “Uhm, hello? You in the trees, who are you?” The shadow did not answer. In the light of a flickering torch, two beady eyes shone through the dark. Rooted to the spot in fear, Jakob tried to scare it away. “Don’t come closer! I- I have an axe!” This was really not a good time to be wandering the camp alone.

The shadow stepped out from the treeline, into the light. Jakob saw another devil, but this one looked different from the one in his house. It had two small eyes, it walked on its four legs and it had no horns. Instead, it had overly big knifelike teeth in an animalistic snout, like if a wolf had overgrown canines to an absurd degree. It walked silently, but not gracefully. Instead, it hobbled in Jakob’s direction unsteadily. Jakob backed away from it slowly, until his back hit a stack of crates. His knees were buckling and he had shivers down his spine. In his mind’s eye, he could already see himself, laying in a pool of blood on the ground. He had nowhere to go. He held his child-sized axe in front of him uselessly. It trembled with the panic in his arms. Even he could see the gesture wasn’t threatening in the least.
The devil snarled at Jakob, its lips the shape of a sneer. It came closer still, drool now dripping off one fang. Its intentions were clear. At the sight of the drool hitting the ground something finally unlocked in Jakob’s legs and he broke into a run.
He hadn’t the presence of mind to notice or care where he was running to, so long as he put distance between him and the devil, and stayed within the torchlight. Harsh pants ravaged his throat and morphed into desperate pleas against his will. “No, no, no, please, somebody help me, what do I do? Anybody?” Through a haze of terror and exhaustion he noticed the devil hot on his heels. It was snarling at him still, not even out of breath. Jakob gave a scream of fear and desperation.

Maybe people had heard him, maybe they had not. Help did not arrive and Jakob kept running for his life. Suddenly, on bare feet, Sypha appeared in front of him. They must’ve been running in the direction of Trevor and Sypha’s wagon. Jakob had never been so glad to see another person. She made a motion with her arms, concentration on her face and worry in her eyes. Jakob ran straight past her, unable to stop on time even if he’d wanted to. Immediately realising that he’d left Sypha alone with the devil, he turned around and brandished his axe again. Before he could call her name, a spear of ice impaled the devil right through its grotesque face, all the way down to its rump. The light in its eyes went out. Jakob could hardly believe his eyes. Trevor stumbled onto the scene, looking rumpled with sleep and not worried in the slightest. He took in the sight. His only concern was, “Sypha, really? Who’s going to warm up your feet for the second time tonight, huh? It’s sure not gonna be me! Find some other idiot.” Together, Sypha and Trevor walked over to check on Jakob. God, he was crying again. He was still trembling, still gripping his axe.

“Kid, you alright? That thing didn’t get you, right?” Jakob shook his head. He couldn’t speak through the fear in his throat. Sypha looked a little annoyed at Trevor and ground her elbow into his ribs. “What Trevor means to say, is we’re glad you’re all right. I know you turned back for me. That was very brave.” Her face was pinched with worry, and she patted his head as Trevor spoke.
“I’ve never seen a night creature attack a big caravan before, not alone. They’re getting desperate. We should hurry to Braila. Kid, get to your tent and don’t go into the dark forest again, you hear?” Trevor, apparently used to the devils enough to go back to sleep, turned and walked towards their tent.
Sypha was gentler with Jakob. “How about you sleep in our wagon tonight? Unless you’d prefer a Speaker tent. I promise we’ll keep you safe.” She smiled at him, tried for reassuring. Jakob dried his eyes and nodded. People had come out of their tents to look at the commotion, a few had gathered to dispose of the devil’s corpse. Others were heading back to bed again, but no one looked quite relaxed.

As they walked towards the wagon, he tried to shake the stiff fear out of his limbs and spine. It wouldn’t leave, like a thorn in mama’s long hair, stubborn to stay and irritate. “I’ll tell you a secret,” began Sypha, and she leaned over Jakob conspiratorially. “Trevor is a really famous monster hunter. He has night creatures for breakfast. I can use magic to fight, and I have night creatures for dinner. There’s no safer place to be than our rickety wagon.” Jakob remembered her arm movements and the spike of ice.
“Thanks, for rescuing me. And for not laughing at me. And for- for keeping me safe tonight.” He blushed a little, embarrassed he’d needed saving to begin with. But he remembered the devil’s grin. He remembered mama’s kitchen knife. His axe wouldn’t stand a chance, even if he’d know how to use it. Another shiver went down his spine, and Sypha pretended not to notice. Jakob thought he hadn’t any tears left to cry, but that night in Sypha’s and Trevor’s carriage, silent sobs wracked him as he cried the terror out of his body. He couldn’t see the stars through the wagon’s roof.

Chapter 3.5; monsters and feelings

Sypha cornered him just after breakfast. “Trevor-“ she’d barely started speaking when he ducked behind the stack of boxes he was sitting on. “Whatever it is, no, Sypha. And stop looking at me like that!” Sypha was peeking around the crates with her very best we-need-to-talk-face on. “Trevor, it’s serious.” “I know! You only have that face when it’s really serious stuff, but that’s the problem here, Sypha. I was having a nice- a perfectly good morning, you know.” Sypha sighed. “Look, we’re talking about this, you don’t have a choice. The only choice you have is whether we talk about it right here, right now, or back at our wagon. Morning’s over, Treff.”

Trevor debated where exactly his life had gone wrong to the point he couldn’t have breakfast without having to talk about serious stuff, but he suspected it was somewhere around that time he killed that Cyclops. As they walked to their cart, the morning sunlight fell through Sypha’s hair delicately, turning her already fiery red hair into a bright red spool of the softest satin. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Back at the wagon, Sypha at least had the mercy to let him pack his items for weapons maintenance back into his bags before she launched into the subject.
“I’m worried about Jakob.” Launched into the subject, indeed. Trevor put on his best I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about-face. “Trevor, don’t play dumb with me. You know that face makes you look like a guilty dog.” He did, and he also knew how funny she found his face. She was struggling to hold back her grin, just as he’d intended.

“He’s so young, but he looks-“ “Like shit,” Trevor finished her sentence. Despite the kid eating well whenever they saw him, he looked as if he’d seen a ghost, all the time. “Do you think he’s all right?” Trevor sighed. She was too good for this world, really. “Sypha, he’s a kid alone in a Speaker caravan. He’s not all right.” Sypha’s face morphed as her understanding dawned. He thought she must be remembering her own circumstances before she was adopted by a Speaker caravan. “I want to help him.” She looked determined, if tired. Trevor summoned all the social grace he had in his big dumb brain, and tried to be gentle with her. “Sypha, you don’t have to atone for the things that asshole did in Lindenfield.” He crossed the distance between them to draw her into a hug.
“I think I know what you’re feeling right around now, I’ve been there myself, but the solution isn’t to pick up every lost puppy we find.” He drew back to look at her face, but before he’d been able to, she kicked his knees out from under him. “The absolute nerve,” she shouted at him from above, “to imply I’m only helping Jakob because he’s some kind of rebound for my own guilt. How dare you!” Trevor picked himself off the ground. Not his finest move, perhaps. Maybe he was all out of social grace already. She looked so very fierce when she got mad, like she could take on the whole world if she wanted to.

“But you have to agree the timing is shit. I’ve done kind shit out of guilt before, and it kicked my ass every time. I’m sorry I insulted you, I’m trying to look out for you.” Sypha calmed down as he talked, so he took it as a sign to keep running his mouth, for once. “Look,” he sighed, “I’ve been doing this traveling-and-saving-people-who-don’t-deserve-it bullshit for most of my life. I’ve been here before. Just- take care of yourself first, alright? We can’t help Jakob when we’re fucked up ourselves.” Sypha didn’t look mad anymore, she looked thoughtful. “I think that’s the smartest thing you’ve said all month,” she joked, previous hurt already faded, “I must be having a good influence.”
Trevor grumbled good-naturedly about the jab.
“Do you think-,” Sypha hesitated, which sure peaked Trevor’s interest. He braced himself. “Yes?” She sighed. “Do you think he’d like the north?”

Chapter Text

“So, kid, how come you’re in a Speaker caravan anyways? You ran away from home?” Trevor joked, but Jakob knew he was serious in his intention. There was a little too much tension in his eyes for the grin to be genuine. He travelled in the back of their wagon again today, as the caravan made for Braila. Sypha elbowed Trevor again, for the blunt way he’d phrased his question, but looked at Jakob with a little curiosity in her eyes.
“I guess I did, yes.” Jakob began. The memories came again, the bloodstain the size of a bed, of a wagon, the winged figure staked through with the same knife mama had used to lovingly cook dinner her family. “My brother and I were in the forest for firewood when the sun set. There came a devil through my family’s house. I think mama killed it, or papa. When I came back to get Matthias from the forest, he- wasn’t there anymore.” He fiddled with his axe handle again. Trevor and Sypha looked uncomfortable with the conversation. Trevor looked like he’d kick himself if he could. Sypha looked at him with pity again.

“I was scared, and kind of confused, so I ran away. Before I knew it I was in a field two hours away from home. I kind of just kept walking.” His eyes were misty, but he didn’t cry this time.
“How old are you, Jakob?” asked Sypha. “I’m three-and-ten,” said Jakob, “Matthias is –was– seven.” “Shit, kid, I’m sorry I asked like that. I didn’t mean to be an ass, sorry.” Sypha hissed a warning at the swearwords, and Jakob nodded. “That’s all right. It kind of hasn’t sunk in yet. Sometimes, I expect Matthias to run after me for stealing his axe, and then I remember again.” There was a moment of silence. Jakob was lost in thought, and Trevor communicated with Sypha through nothing but a look. They agreed.
“Hey kid, come sit up here. You ever driven a carriage before?” That broke Jakob out of his train of thought, and he jumped up the boot. “No, is it hard?” Trevor ruffled his hair, and explained how to drive. Braila’s city walls came all too soon.

“Where are you going, by the way? Are you guys stopping at Braila, or following the caravan?” Sypha shot Trevor a look, who sighed. “We were headed northwest, actually. We came here for a chance to meet with Sypha’s old caravan, but we missed them so we’re moving on. Word about her wellbeing will get to her caravan through word of mouth of this one. What about you?” Jakob thought about it. He didn’t know, really.
“Well, I’d planned on staying with the caravan to go east. But last night- that wouldn’t have happened if I’d been behind city walls. And Braila has good city walls. Do you know if Braila is good to-” He looked for the right word, and when he found the word it hurt. He forced himself to say it. “To orphans?” The very mention of it made him miserable. Sypha threw Trevor the second and final Look. He relented. They agreed.
“So kid, not to brag, but I’m a pretty good monster hunter. And Sypha is amazing, she’s so strong. So, you know.” He looked a little uncomfortable. “That is, if you want to-“ Sypha sighed, annoyed. “What Trevor means is that we’d love to have you travel with us. We’re going north, not east, but I meant what I said when I told you there’s no safer place to be than our wagon.”

Jakob looked at Sypha, then at Trevor in disbelief. He could barely believe his own ears. “You mean it? You’re sure?” Trevor nodded at him. “Very sure. No takesy backsies, kid.” He barely had to think it over. He believed Sypha when she said they were strong. He could always set out to find the place the sun came from later. Maybe they’d even come with him, if he asked.
He bounced on the boot of the wagon in excitement for the rest of the day.

In Braila the Speaker caravan set up their tents, and Jakob helped them out for the last time. He found the older woman who’d given him the cloak, but she wouldn’t take it back. “Keep it,” she said, “You’ll need it in your travels. You’ve been a great help here, child. May you fare well.” With that, he was ready to leave Braila, and the caravan. He helped Sypha carry the goods she’d bought for travel, helped Trevor care for the horses. Trevor let him drive again, and they left for the north together. Jakob hadn’t found his place where the sun never went down, but he might’ve found the safest and warmest place in all of Wallachia.

Traveling with Belnades and Belmont didn’t prove to be all roses and sunshine. For one, Trevor had a tendency to stretch between his washing days as much as he could. He didn’t smell so bad Jakob didn’t want to sit on the boot, but Trevor didn’t exactly smell of roses either. Sypha had a tendency to warm her cold hands on Jakob’s arm throughout the day.
But the travel had loads of fun moments too. There was one time Sypha froze Trevor to the spot, and Jakob threw bathwater all over him. Another, Sypha stuck her cold hands under Trevor’s shirt and startled him so badly he’d nearly jumped a meter into the air. Jakob could swear Trevor came clean off the boot.
One night, Trevor ran out of their tent cursing up a storm, saying something about cold feet and getting a sword and her feet never being cold again, damn it. One day, Jakob asked them why they were travelling north in the first place. Even in the spring-turned-almost-summer, it was colder here than it had been in Braila. Jakob was thankful the old woman had convinced him to keep the cloak.

“We’re going to meet a friend in the northwest” came Sypha’s reply. She sounded a little odd, but Jakob didn’t think much of it. Days later, Jakob asked for clarification.
“Where are we going? Who are we meeting? Can I even come with you there? Will they like me, you think?” He’d been boiling with curiosity for days, and now all the questions came tumbling out at once. Sypha and Trevor both tensed, this time. Trevor was the one to bite the bullet. “We’re going to a region called Transylvania. Our friend lives in the area, not in a town or something so I can’t be more specific. Yes, of course we’re taking you to meet him. We wouldn’t have picked your sorry arse off the streets of Braila otherwise.” Trevor joked, but a certain tightness in his eyes betrayed his worries over Jakob’s reaction.

“I’m not sure he’ll like you, the stuck-up bastard, but he won’t be cross to see you, I think. It’ll be fine.” “Your friend doesn’t sound very nice. What’s he like?” This time, Sypha answered. “He’s a little solitary, I suppose, but I promise he’s a nice guy, deep down. He just needs to warm up to you. He’s a bit like Trevor, in that way.” “Hey! I am not similar to dogs-breath! ‘Warm up to you’ my as- foot,” Trevor just managed not to swear, “He’s a right bastard until you get to know him, and even then.” “Please,” said Sypha, smugly, “we both know you like him more than you let on. God forbid you actually communicate clearly for once.” Trevor spluttered a protest, but it sounded half-hearted even to Jakob. So was he a nice guy, or wasn’t he?
“I guess I’ll know when I meet him, then.” “Exactly! A positive outlook is key, Jakob.” “So why does he live in Transylvania? Isn’t that where vampires come from? Isn’t it dangerous?” Trevor Looked at Sypha. She handle this one. “You’re kind of right, there’s a lot of vampires in Transylvania. Or, there used to be, until most of the vampires in the area died as collateral damage in the fight to kill Dracula. So there’s really not much in Transylvania besides vampire bones and a castle, and I think he likes it that way.” Should they even be going there then, if this man liked his solitude so much he’d build a house in the middle of a vampire graveyard? Before he got the chance to voice his concern, Trevor inserted himself into the conversation. “So, how about bed, then? It’s late and we should get enough sleep.” Everybody seemed very on-edge about this friend they were going to see. Jakob wondered if he really was going to like this person. They went to bed.

The road to Transylvania was very, very long. Even more so because Sypha insisted on stopping at villages and towns to resupply more often than they really needed to. She justified it by saying she wanted to be well-prepared in case something happened. Jakob thought she was just using every opportunity to stuff him full of tavern food.
Food on the road was different from the Speaker caravan’s dinner. For breakfast was some fruit, or bread, but never both. Lunch was much the same. For dinner they’d depend on dried jerky on bread and whatever Trevor managed to hunt for the night. It wasn’t so bad, and the company was good. Jakob was having the time of his life seeing sights he’d never seen before, but Sypha looked saddened every time Trevor couldn’t scrounge up a rabbit or something. So, every time they were in a place that served food, Sypha would order for Jakob double the food she’d order for herself. By the end of the night their wagon had two very full young men in it. One full of dinner, the other full of ale.

The next morning Trevor would complain about his headache, and squint in the sun and wince at every bump in the road. Jakob would skip breakfast.
To Sypha’s delight, her strategy worked. Halfway through their journey she’d already mended Jakob’s pants twice, and taught him to do it the third time. He kept growing about the waistline and buying new fabric in town to make his pants larger. One time, Trevor got fed up with his dawdling over which cloth to buy and made Jakob buy an entire new outfit. He got new pants, a shirt, a jacket and even new socks. The clothes were glorious, soft and warm and new as they were, but he felt a little guilty about it for days. Sypha insisted that Trevor wouldn’t have bought him the clothes if they couldn’t afford to, and Trevor just ruffled his hair whenever Jakob brought it up, like he was being silly.
He worked the guilt away by dutifully tending the evening fires and fetching bathwater with more vigour than before (Trevor didn’t really intend for that last one, but he bore with it anyways). His cloak still fit, but since it was getting summer, even further north, he didn’t wear it much anymore. Inspired by the cloak, he always mended his clothing with the brightest blue thread he could find.

Once, they came across a band of devils. It was day, thankfully, and Sypha and Trevor had already noticed and warned Jakob about it. They explained that they always pretended not to notice, pretended they weren’t a danger to the devils. The devils, thinking them easy prey like the rest of the single wagons and carts, came closer and grew overconfident. Sypha stayed with Jakob in the wagon while Trevor chased a few devils through the forest. They ran from him. Multiple, at once! Jakob couldn’t believe the sight.
The stupid ones who still hadn’t sensed their luck turning, continued to approach the carriage. Sypha made quick work of them by summoning and shooting dozens of ice shards at one. The creatures never managed to come close enough to even spook the horses.
Trevor insisted on butchering the devils for parts to sell in later towns. Doctors would pay good money for monster parts, he’d said. Sypha joined him begrudgingly. Jakob, fresh off the high of watching four devils try and fail to run for their lives, asked they teach him how to. Matthias’ axe-blade got its first stain that day.
That night Jakob fell asleep with a new understanding of just how powerful his friends were, and how right Sypha had been when she’d told him he was safest right in their cart.

Chapter Text

By the day they were getting closer to Transylvania. Villages grew sparser as trees got more plentiful. Before long, copses of trees grew in density until they formed one long stretch of nothing but forest. Jakob hadn’t seen a field in days. With their increased proximity also came a change in behaviour for Sypha and Trevor. They grew restless, distracted. They had hushed late-night conversations that even sounded tense, sometimes. More than once Jakob woke up in the middle of the night for water or the like to Belnades and Belmont, sitting by the fire. They were hugging, physically close, for all the world appearing relaxed as could be, but their hunched shoulders betrayed them. Seriously, who was this friend of theirs?

Two weeks of this. Of intense whispered conversations Jacob wasn’t privy to, tense faces and stern Looks. He couldn’t take it anymore. One night he woke up and heard another of many a serious conversations coming from Sypha’s and Trevor’s tent.
He walked up to it, purposefully stepping on all the creaky bits of the wagon to alert them. He stood in front of the tent and asked, “What exactly has you guys so spooked? You’ve been acting weird for weeks. Is this guy gonna eat me, or what?” Sypha opened the tent and invited him in. They sat on the mattress in the dark. Sypha was hugging him close, with an iron grip, like she was afraid he’d run away if she let go. It was Trevor who broke the silence, and then some.

“It’s not really our place to tell you, so we’ve been arguing about the best course of action for so long. I mean, you were going to find out eventually anyways, but we think it’s better if you knew ahead of time. So. The man we’re heading to see is called Alucard. Or Adrian, that depends, just ask him what he prefers when you get the chance.” Jakob couldn’t believe his ears. Trevor was rambling. “The thing is, he’s a vampire. Or, half, actually. Doesn’t need human blood, not aggressive and murder-happy or other such unfortunate vampiric qualities. Still, you know, sharp teeth, crazy strong and fast, stupid handso- no, anyways. What do you think?” Jacob didn’t know what he thought. “So, he’s not like, a devil, right?”
“No,” said Sypha, “not at all. Sometimes I forget he’s not fully human, and then he’ll do something like run up a wall to clean the rafters like it’s nothing. I promise he’s nice. We just worried you wouldn’t take it well, given your- circumstances.” Jakob had to think about it.
“I don’t know, I’ve never seen an actual vampire before. I mean, I only learned about Dracula like, four weeks ago. I guess, if he doesn’t look like a devil I’ll be okay, now that I know. I think I might’ve screamed if I saw him and didn’t know. I think it’s better you’ve told me now. Is that all I need to know, or does he have a monster in his basement?” “No,” grinned Trevor, “No basement monsters. Only books that might bore a man to death.” Sypha rolled her eyes, and ushered Jakob to bed. “We’re traveling more tomorrow, don’t stay up too late. I’m glad you’re all right. Good night, Jakob.” Jakob smiled as he bade them goodnight.

Trevor and Sypha were in a much better mood the next day. Jakob hadn’t seen Trevor this carefree in ages. Sypha laughed at his jokes, her body genuinely relaxed. Jakob fired questions at them all day. He learned Adrian mostly lived off normal human food.
According to Sypha, he’s the best cook of the three of them. He still needed animal blood occasionally, and Trevor assured him that he always left the animals alive. He could walk in sunlight, no matter how strong, and salt or holy water or just normal running water wouldn’t kill him, just wound him. In fact, running water didn’t seem to affect him at all. He still couldn’t look at a cross for too long. Trevor explained it had something to do with how vampires’ eyes work different from human eyes. Makes their brain go all wonky, he said. Silver did hurt him, and quite badly at that, but since Jakob had never held silver in his own hands in his life, he figured they’d be fine. Jakob had mercy, and they didn’t talk of Adrian’s supposed handsomeness again.

The second time they encountered devils went a lot different. These were bigger and stronger than the ones from last time. Instead of their ‘we’re so helpless’-charade, Sypha and Trevor went into action as soon as they were close enough. Sypha even left the boot to get into the fight. Jakob wasn’t quite so terrified as he used to be, but he could never imagine actually fighting the things. Trevor didn’t go into the woods this time, preferring the open space the road offered to manoeuvre his whip. Sypha backed him up from the top of the wagon, with fire as well as ice this time. She manifested new fireballs and ice as soon as she’d shot the last one, managing to shoot projectiles without having to pause. The sight of them stole Jakob’s breath. That power, contained in just the two human bodies of his friends.
Four devils surrounded Trevor. All of them big and nasty-looking, standing on two legs with long claws on their fingers. One of them had horns, one had hooves. Another had wings, and only one eye. The last looked just like the devil in his family’s home, wings, horns and misshapen jaw and all. Trevor continuously circled his whip around him in a figure eight, when he stumbled and his rhythm faltered. He had to back up towards the cart to dodge a swipe of claws and Sypha stabbed the one-eyed devil right through the head with ice. The hooved devil she hit with fire, which made it lose focus. Trevor was on it in an instant, the metal end of his whip landed solidly between its eyes. Its head exploded nearly immediately.

The last remaining devils looked taken aback, like they were considering running away, when another three devils walked out of the forest and to the back of the wagon. Sypha called to Trevor, “I need to focus on the new arrivals. You handle our two friends!” Trevor barely had the time to yell back “Got it!” before he had to dodge yet another set of claws. From the wagon Jakob could barely catch some muttered curses about very long stakes and arses.
Trevor wrapped his whip around the neck of the horned devil and heaved, pulling its head clean off its torso. Jakob got a good eyeful of the inside of the thing’s throat. He’d never forget the sight, that’s how gross it was.
Now only the familiar-looking devil remained, and the three behind the cart. Speaking of those, they weren’t faring so well against Sypha’s one-woman army.
She’d jumped off the wagon and landed right on top of one, skewering it with ice from its head to its toes. She looked very concentrated for a moment, and the hairs on Jakob’s neck stood upright. In between her hands she made a ball of- was that lightning, contained in her hands? And he’d thought her fire was fearsome. Before the devils knew what’d hit them they were lying on the ground, convulsing with the remnants of the lighting in their veins. Sypha made quick work of them without even looking at them.
She was already moving to the front of the wagon while she shot two firebolts behind her. The devils’ heads burned to a crisp, their scent permeating the forest. Jakob gagged as Trevor grabbed the metal end of his whip and staked the familiar devil with it. Its chest boiled with energy, before bursting open. Jakob thought it’d deserved it.

Trevor insisted on foraging for parts again, even if they were close to their destination now. Sypha burned what was left of the corpses completely, only leaving ashes behind. They took a moment to take stock of injuries. Jakob was a little rattled, but completely fine. Sypha had expended some energy but her body hadn’t a scratch.
Therefore Trevor was worst off amongst them, with some scratches on his back that had already finished bleeding, and a scuff on his cheek from an exploding devil. Sypha made him sit down so she could clean the wounds and put ointment on them. “A shame to waste a pretty face” she’d said, which had made Trevor blush and give in to her work. Jakob thought he liked it when Trevor blushed. It made him look his age, less scuffed up and rough around the edges.
With Sypha done and the group no worse for wear, they moved on. On the way Jakob told them about the devil that looked like the one back home, and said he liked the way it’d died. Trevor agreed and promised Jakob he’d kill every similar-looking devil, if he met them. Sypha looked a little disapproving, but Jakob thought it was a nice gesture. He suspected she just disliked the swear words Trevor had used to say it.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Trevor finally said the words Jakob had been looking forward to for weeks now. “Hey, I think we’re almost there. I recognise these woods from last time.” Jakob had been dozing in the back of the wagon, watching the trees go by. Trevor’s words made him jump up to the boot as fast as he could. “Really?” he asked, voice overly loud in his enthusiasm, making Sypha wince, “How much longer do you think?” “I think we’ll get there before nightfall. Just after midday, if we’re lucky.” Jakob couldn’t sit still for the rest of the morning. To burn some energy, he walked next to the horses.
Trevor’s guess had been accurate, and a little after noon Trevor halted the carriage at the treeline of a clearing. In front of them, previously hidden by the canopy, stood the largest (and only, but who’s keeping score?) castle Jakob had ever seen. “Wow! Sypha, it’s a castle! An actual castle, like from fairy tales! That’s the coolest thing ever!” But Trevor had a wary look on his face. He breathed deeply, scenting the air.
“Sypha, stay by the wagon with Jakob. Something is wrong. I’m going to check it out. Wait for me here, or so help me God,” he warned. Sypha looked ready to argue, but when she looked at Jakob she remembered Trevor had said he should stay too. She was going to keep him safe, whatever lay ahead. She nodded at Trevor with tension in her body. Jakob went to sit on the boot and they watched Trevor walk away.

Someone was at the door of the castle. They knocked on the door, as if it wasn’t twenty meters high. As if he didn’t have bodies in his garden. The sound reverberated around the entire castle, rousing him from his thoughts. He went to the main hall and watched from a distance as his uninvited guest let themselves in. He remembered his last guests, and shuddered. The stranger looked familiar. He recognised the way they carried themselves. The stranger flicked the switch for the main hall and waited for the lights to turn on. Had they been in the castle before?
The lights came on. He knew the man in the main hall.

He ran away with vampiric speed, a blur through the hallways. He ran all the way to his bedroom and locked the door behind him. He was breathing hard, his knees felt unsteady. Why was he here? How could he come back so casually, after they had decimated him so? Left him wide open, ready to be taken advantage of?
He waited for his breathing to calm a little bit. He left his room and took all the back entrances and servants’ hallways back to the main hall. He hid himself high up in the rafters, and waited.
Trevor had left the main hall. He was shouting for Adrian. Going off the sound of it, he was somewhere behind the throne room now.
Trevor, ever the stubborn pain in the neck, kept looking for him for hours. Adrian didn’t follow him to see where he went. He walked back outside through the main entrance, his gait tense. A little bit later, the smell of burning flesh came from outside. Adrian barely managed not to vomit.

Trevor must’ve been away for hours, because when Sypha woke Jakob up (when had he fallen asleep?) he saw the sun was barely above the trees. Trevor looked, impossibly, even tenser than when he’d left. “He’s not home” he said. “He’s redecorated, apparently. I’ll need your help before we bring Jakob along,” he said to Sypha. “Stay here, only a little bit longer,” he said to Jakob. His tone and face bore no argument, and Jakob attempted none.

Sypha kissed his forehead and left with Trevor. A few minutes later a dark smoke rose up from just out of Jakob’s view. A stench like when the devils burned, filled the clearing. A few minutes later still, Sypha came to drive the wagon towards the castle. They took the halter off the horses and left them to graze. From up close, the castle looked even bigger. Some parts of it looked like they were upside-down, or like they weren’t really attached to the rest of the castle. “How does it look like that without breaking? That bit looks like it would fall if a bird sat on it.” Sypha answered, but she sounded distracted.
“The castle has a lot of magic in it, and machines so strange they might as well be magic. It’s probably a bit of both.” She looked uneasy, but Trevor looked downright anxious.
He looked like he expected a monster to come out of the castle and eat them. Jakob suddenly wasn’t looking forward to seeing the castle’s inside. Apparently Trevor was thinking the same. “Let’s camp outside tonight. It’ll be- safer.” He sounded unsure, which didn’t help Jakob’s anxiety at all. “You know,” he began, “I can set up camp while you go look for your friend? Maybe something happened to him?” Sypha looked like she was going to protest, but agreed with Jakob anyways. “I’m never going to sleep tonight if I don’t get some answers soon. Let’s go, Trevor. We’ll be back soon, don’t stay up waiting, all right?” Jakob nodded yes, but every one of them knew he’d be waiting for them all night if he had to.
He watched their backs as they went up the stairs, opened the unreasonably large doors, and disappeared into the castle. Jakob turned back to the cart and set up their tent. He made his bed in the wagon. He groomed the horses. When he had nothing better to do, he even washed himself with a cloth. After that, the only thing left for him was to wait. While he was busy the sun had well and truly set. Now, insects and animals called through the dark. So far, none had given him the creeps, but he kept his shoes on and stayed ready to run into the castle at a moment’s notice. He watched the trees, and the horses, and the castle, and the grass. He counted the stars. He saw Trevor’s face in them. The time passed very, very slowly.

Trevor let himself in again, and held the door open. There she was. Right in front of him stood the woman who had come to find him in Greşit so long ago. The woman who had looked upon a lonely vampire, and taught it friendship. Sypha held her scarf in front of her nose as she walked into the hall.

They stood in the hall together when they’d closed the doors. They looked tense. They looked close. Sypha pulled Trevor away from a loose tile he hadn’t seen and kept holding his hand as they walked further into the castle. This time, Adrian followed. He watched them as they turned the hall’s lights off and explored the hallways. Watched how they reacted to the dust, the dark, the mould and the stale air. They went to the kitchen. They must have found the dolls he’d made a lifetime ago. He heard Sypha hiss harsh words to Trevor. He heard chairs scrape and the cellar door close. Was Trevor rummaging through his pantry? He would, the bastard.
They looked inside the bedroom they remembered as his. They left it quickly, too. Trevor had probably seen it during his earlier trek through the castle, so he only looked uncomfortable and worried. Sypha looked sick. Adrian burned with shame.
He knew what the room must’ve looked like; blood on the floor, on his rugs, high on the walls, on his windows. His sheets and pillows drenched red, his mattress ripped to shreds by a silver cord. He wondered what they thought of it all, and whether he could bear knowing those thoughts.

They followed the footprints he still hadn’t washed out of the rug to his childhood bedroom. They too, saw the outline of dust and blood. “What do you think happened to him?” Sypha sounded anxious. Trevor sounded worried. “I don’t know,” he said “but since he had the time to decorate and walk around the castle, he must have survived it.” Oh, if only he knew. They had nearly been the end of him.
They went back to the kitchen. “You’re right, he must still be alive. Look, the stove has been used recently, and there’s no dust in the table. Do you think he’s in the forest?”
He couldn’t pretend to ignore them forever. He walked into the kitchen before his brain could stop his body.
“No, I’m right here.” Trevor started, and Sypha whirled around. “Adrian!” She sounded.. glad, to see him. She ran up to him and hugged him, before he had time to react. He hadn’t had bodily contact with a human being since that night. His entire body lit up in a confusing mix of warmth and warning signals. He stood ramrod straight as she hugged him.
Trevor had a dark look on his face. “Sypha, let him go, would you? Poor sod looks like he’ll drop dead if you keep hugging him. Hey, dogs-breath, what’s with the lawn decorations, huh?” Sypha backed off, and shot Trevor an angry look. “Seriously, Trevor, that’s your first question? Not ‘hello, how have you been’, or ‘what happened, how can we help?’” Help?
“Do I look like I need help?” he asked her.
Having them in from of him was giving him vertigo. He was so happy, sad, angry, disappointed and so scared he could burst. He felt like he’d fall over if she exhaled in his general direction.
She looked at him with pity. “Adrian, no offense, you look awful. When was the last time you brushed your hair? The castle is a mess. What happened to you?” “The castle is fine, thank you. The dead mice are scenic.” She didn’t react to the joke. He wasn’t sure his tone was right for one, anyways.
Her hair was a little longer than when he’d seen her last. It looked wilder like this. She looked like a fire nymph. “More importantly,” Trevor broke him out of his thoughts. Had he been staring? “What happened to those people out front, and why does your bedroom look like something bled to death in it?” He couldn’t help the venom in his reply. “Because something bled to death in it.” The kitchen fell silent. Sypha looked very worried, now. Trevor even had his hand on his hip, ready for his whip. Adrian felt the need to defend himself. “They came to the castle and tried to kill me. It was self-defence.” Trevor scoffed. “Yes, and you staked their dead bodies into the ground in self-defence too?” What had he done? “They deserved it.” He sounded cold, even to his own ears. Sypha’s face fell.

God, they were here, in his castle again. He had them right in front of him and he had no idea what to do about it. He wanted to cry. Sypha, impossibly, looked even prettier than when she’d left. The road had treated her well. Trevor looked better too. He suspected it was because Sypha bathed and fed him on regular intervals. He had always been muscular, but now he finally had some meat on his bones, too. Could emotions kill a man? Adrian felt ready to set the example.

He’d been staring again. Even Trevor looked worried. He held onto the table to keep himself upright, stared a hole through the wood. “You weren’t there. Don’t talk as if you know what y- what they put me through.” His voice crackled with emotion and disuse. He felt ashamed. He felt weak.
He started when Sypha put her hand on his shoulder. “Adrian please, talk to us. We want to help.”
“You can’t. I-” -I can’t be fixed, Sypha. I’ll never feel quite right again.-
“I’m fine.” “You can’t tell us something like that, and expect us not to care. What happened, Adrian?” Trevor sounded angry, but his face was sad.
He saw the glint of moonlight off a blade. He saw red. He saw her, struggling to breathe. He saw him, scared at the blood on his hands, what it meant for him.
In his mind’s eye, she had Sypha’s face, and he Trevor’s. It was the worst image his brain had conjured up yet, and he wasn’t even dreaming.
He felt the ghost of pleasure, felt the silver sear his skin. He was breathing hard, he realised, but he could not stop. His fingers dug into the table, his nails left scratches in the wood. Trevor was calling his name.
“-drian? Adrian! Get it together.” Sypha rubbed his back. She must have felt the scars through his shirt, because she pulled her hand away like she’d been burned. “What- Are you hurt?” Adrian tried to sound reassuring. It sounded fake, even to his own ears. “It’s been a long time now. I barely even feel it.” The scars were burning a hole through his soul.
Silence fell in the kitchen. Unbidden, a question rose up in his mind. “Why did you return here? I thought you wanted to travel.” Sypha’s face fell, from worried, to exhausted. “We had a couple of setbacks. We were tired. We needed a safe place to recuperate,” answered Trevor, when she wouldn’t speak. So, they were to leave again, soon. Would he survive to greet them, if they returned?
“There’s plenty of empty rooms. You should be well rested for travel, tomorrow.” Better they leave on his terms, than surprise him again. Easier to control himself, that way. Sypha made a soft, hurt sound at the announcement he’d expect them to leave tomorrow. Trevor argued, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ll talk things over with breakfast.” They agreed, for now. He just had to hold out until then. Hold out for what, he couldn’t say. He wanted to hug them, and he wanted to scream until he had no air left. Instead, he righted himself.
“Come, I’ll show you to a bedroom.” He thought of their interaction in the hall. He chose a room with a two-person bed. As they walked after him, Sypha surprised him. “There’s a kid in our wagon. Jakob. We picked him up near Braila. He should be inside with us, I can’t leave him alone all night.” Adrian thought it over. “I’ll bring him to you.” He opened a bedroom door. “Sit tight.” When he’d closed the door behind them, he turned back to the main hall.

He opened the main entrance door to take a look. Indeed, there was Jakob, still up despite the hour, looking curiously at the open doors. He appeared to think it over for a while, before he approached the castle. Adrian went back to the hallways, to gather supplies for them.

Jakob had been watching the horses again when he caught movement at the castle doors. In the half-light of the stars and moon, the doors looked like they opened into some other world, one of total darkness. He saw no-one leave, or enter, for that matter. The doors stayed open, just enough to let a person through but not even close to fully opened. Even as the moon rose firmly above the canopy, the doors stayed open, and nobody went through them. Curiosity ate at Jakob’s self-control until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He’d been patient for long enough. He jumped off the wagon. One horse looked at him, but didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest, eyes loose and ears forward. Jakob decided this was a good sign and walked up to the doors. From closer up the inside of the castle didn’t seem like a darker world anymore, it just looked dreary. There were burnt spots on the grass. Jakob took a breath for courage, and went inside. As soon as he was clear of the doors they fell closed behind him with a thud that shook the castle walls. Jakob started clean out of his skin. He thought he’d come off the floor. He might’ve screamed. If a boy screams in a castle and no one is around to hear it, did he really scream at all?

With his back against the doors, Jakob had nowhere to go but forward. He took some more deep breaths, both to calm down his heart and for courage. He went forward. He was inside a huge hall. There was carpet on the ground, so soft that Jakob’s feet sunk into it. There was also a lot of rubble in the hall. Some pillars were broken, others had damp mouldy spots on them. As he walked further into the castle he realised just how big it was. This entrance hall alone was bigger than his family house, thrice. He went up a set of stairs which also looked a little broken and were full of fallen stone. He came upon another hall, smaller this time. The ridiculously soft carpet led him past a strange chair. It was taller than him, taller than Trevor, even. It looked square and harsh and cold. The red cushion didn’t change Jakob’s impression that this must be one uncomfortable chair. He went on.
The next set of stairs ended in a hallway. He could choose, left or right. The hallway on the left looked dusty and downright rank. The one on the right didn’t fare much better, but at least there was less rubble on the ground. He went right.
The hallway brought him past more rooms than Jakob cared to count. Some doors were closed, but some were open and he looked inside curiously. This room had loads of glass bottles and iron things that didn’t make any sense to Jakob. Another one looked like a storm had been through it. All the shelves were ripped up and broken, their contents strewn about the room. A lot of rooms looked like that. Most of them had damage on the walls, or the carpet was ripped, or the strange metal machines broken and bent. What kind of creature could bend metal like that? A vampire, probably, came Trevor’s voice inside his head. He’d said Adrian or Alucard was really strong. Jakob continued past rooms without bothering to look inside. He walked until he came at a junction. Upstairs, or downstairs?
Again, the carpet looked a little cleaner going downstairs, so down Jakob went.
These hallways were smaller, less tall and cold and imposing. There were strange torches here, of fire that burned inside glass. Sometimes, there was even an intact paining. Some were of flowers, or landscapes. Some were of people. A family, it looked like. A tall man with dark hair and a darker cape, a very pretty woman with bright blonde hair that seemed to shine, even in an old and dusty painting. They held a baby, a little bundle with its mother’s hair.

The next door opened to a kitchen. It looked like it was used recently. There were three wooden mugs on the kitchen counter and one of the chairs wasn’t pushed up to the table properly. There were scratches in the wood of the table that looked like they hadn’t been there long. On a shelf next to the stove sat two little dolls. When Jakob looked at them closer, he recognised them as Sypha and Trevor, but tiny. Trevor’s had a little whip, and stubble on his face. Sypha’s had her blue robes in the way she wore them, not like other Speakers. Jakob thought the hair looked just like hers. These were very well done, they must’ve taken ages. Jakob continued.
Trevor and Sypha hadn’t been here for a while at least. The room next to the kitchen opened to a dark storage closet. The next one was a bedroom that looked cosy. It had a big bed in it, and a carpet. The bed was dusty and unused. The next bedroom wasn’t as dirty. It smelled like it hadn’t been in use for weeks, but the carpet was free of dust and the bedsheets weren’t so ramrod straight as the last ones. The bedroom after that was a disaster. It looked like Trevor had dragged a devil in here and bled it to death. It looked worse than the time the butcher spilled a bucket of pig’s blood in the town square. Jakob was reminded of Matthias. Matthias had looked worse. The room brought too many bad memories, so Jakob moved on.

There were bloody footprints on the carpet. With nothing better to do, he followed them. They went down the hallway, up the stairs, down the larger hallway, up more stairs. By the time they entered a room, the stains were barely discernible from the red carpet. In the room lay a broken child’s bed, a burnt carpet, a wedding ring and a bloody white bedsheet. In the dust lay the slightly bloody outline of a person. Spooked, Jakob went back to the kitchen. It seemed the most recently used, and the safest. He decided against wandering the rest of the castle and getting lost and starving to death. He’d wait in the kitchen for Trevor, or Sypha, or someone who knew where they were.

He sat on the crooked chair and looked around the kitchen with more interest. There was a pot over the fireplace. It was empty, and the fire was banked, but the pot was free of any dust and so must’ve been used recently. More sign of human (vampiric?) life. There was a door on the far side of the kitchen that opened to a cold storage cellar. There were potatoes there, and cuttings of spring growth of some edible plants he recognised from when his mama taught him and Matthias about the forest. When he came out of the storage room, there was a man in the kitchen. Jakob had never heard him enter. He startled Jakob so he hit his back against the now closed door. For a moment, the only looked at each other. The man had long blond hair that Jakob could only describe as amazing. He had tawny eyes nearly the colour of his hair, which clued Jakob in about the non-human nature of the man. Besides, the pale skin erased any doubts. Pale skin which, Jakob saw in the half-dark, was marred with scars, starting at the wrists and disappearing under long sleeves. He wore black pants that might’ve been leather, and a long sleeved shirt with a low neckline. A big, old scar was visible on his chest, that’s how low the neckline went.

He dropped the bedsheets at the bedroom door. Back in the kitchen, he found the kid rummaging through his pantry like he owned the place. Children. His silent appearance in the kitchen startled Jakob. He would have apologised, on another night. Jakob gawked at him, took a good long look at the scar his father had left.

“Are you Alucard? Or, Adrian? I- Sypha and Trevor told me about you. Do you know where they are? Oh sorry, I’m Jakob, it’s nice to meet you.” He’d forgotten the manners papa had drilled into him for a moment, and he felt embarrassed for it. The man stayed quiet for a moment longer. “Hello, Jakob. I see you’ve found my pantry. Kindly leave everything as you’ve found it, it’s not easy to forage this time of year.” His voice was quiet and his pitch was low. Jakob had to strain a little to hear. His voice fit him, Jakob thought.
He didn’t fail to notice how the man had answered none of his questions, let alone introduce himself. “I’m not some thief, thank you very much. Where’s Trevor and Sypha?” He crossed his arms as he said it. Jakob already didn’t like this man very much. What had Sypha said, he’d take a little time? At the moment Jakob was inclined with Trevor’s comment on the matter. The bit about the bastard, and the bit about the looks. At Jakob’s tone, the man’s eyes narrowed a little.
“They’re around here somewhere. They’re safe. Now, tell me Jakob, how did you find this place?” Jakob didn’t feel like being forthcoming with information, if this stranger wasn’t going to be, either. “The castle doors were open. I followed the least dirty bits of carpet. Where did you see them last?” “Down the hallway and up the stairs is a bedroom with sheets in front of the door. I left them there.” The man turned and left the kitchen. His steps made so little sound Jakob wouldn’t have noticed them if he hadn’t been listening for them. The man turned left, opposite the direction he’d sent Jakob in. He thought about it for a moment and went upstairs.

When he knocked on the bedroom door Trevor opened it, a wary look in his eyes. He looked momentarily confused to see Jakob. Then his face lit up. “He went and got you after all! Come on in buddy.” He opened the bedroom door fully, and they hauled the sheets inside together. Sypha was sat on the empty bed, and rushed to his side. “Jakob, hey. Did you see Adrian?” Jakob felt a little mad again. “Yes, I did. What a bastard,” he said, still miffed over his earlier interaction. Trevor snorted.
“He didn’t introduce himself, accused me of stealing things out his cellar and wouldn’t say where you were.” Jakob ticked the items off his fingers as he went. "‘I promise they’re fine’ doesn’t sound very reassuring when you’re standing in a dark empty broken magic castle without your friends.”
Hearing how the man had acted, Trevor looked a little angry. “We told him you’re a good kid. Bastard fangy asshole.” “Trevor!” hissed Sypha, “He’s our friend! And he’s in pain, show some empathy you bull-headed idiot.” “Yes, yes, poor bloodsucker who won’t answer questions. Let’s get some dinner.” That, Jakob and Sypha could agree with. “Yes, let’s eat. It’ll do good on our mood.” Trevor, already down the hallway, protested that his mood was fine. Sypha didn’t argue, though she never agreed. She took Jakob’s hand and kept holding it as they walked to the kitchen. Jakob thought she did it because she needed the contact, not him.

Chapter Text

When they got to the kitchen Trevor was already rummaging through the cabinets. He found more edible cuttings but seemed prepared to toss them out. Seeing this, Sypha and Jakob yelled “No!” at exactly the same time. “We can cook those, Trevor!” said Sypha. At Trevor’s incredulous look, Jakob backed her up. “I know how to prepare those. They’ll taste good, I promise!” Outnumbered, Trevor agreed.

Jakob took the lead in the cooking. Sypha stoked a fire, and Trevor found some tableware. Jakob boiled the greens with onion and potatoes and mashed everything together. He chopped and fried bacon in the middle of the hearth, to render the fat. He knew the bacon grease would lend the meal some much-needed salt, among other things.

It didn’t look appetizing exactly, but when he’d made it with mama years ago, it’d looked exactly like this. Sypha looked enthusiastic, Trevor looked like he expected the meal to jump out of the pot and strangle him. “I’ve never seen them prepared like this, did your mother teach you?” she asked, before she realised what she’d asked of Jakob. He smiled reassuringly at her crestfallen face, and explained. “It is, yes. She said her grandmother’s grandmother took the recipe with her from her homeland, and every generation has learned to make it since. It’s really only mashed potatoes and vegetables.”

Trevor still looked apprehensive, but at least he didn’t make a face like he was looking at a questionable mud stain on his cloak anymore. Jakob scooped three portions onto the tableware Trevor’d set out, sprinkling the bacon on top, and sat down to eat. Sypha followed his lead and tugged Trevor down with her. “You know you don’t have to eat it, right? It won’t kill you if you don’t like it, stop being a baby.” Trevor looked at her, betrayed, but ate. It really wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t the height of culinary achievements either, but it tasted at least as good as tavern food. Together they finished the pot.

Sated and comfortable, Jakob’s eyes began to fall closed again. They moved back to the bedroom before he fell asleep at the table.

He tossed and turned in his bed. The sheets felt wrong, the mattress was too lumpy. His pillow was on a mission to put a crick in his neck. How had he slept here before?
He fell asleep on the lumpy pillow before he’d even realised. He couldn’t remember his dream when he woke up, but he felt like crawling out of his skin anyways. He took the next best option of blowing off steam in the forest, on four legs. The world was easier, like this.

Anxiety left his brain for a little while, allowing him to think clearer than he’d had the luxury of all day.

They’d come back for him. They’d left him. But, they’d come back. When they left again, would he survive it, this time? Would they notice? Or would they one day return to find the castle truly empty, save for a little pile of his remains? Mother, father and son, one and the same, a wedding ring and three piles of ashes.

All three of them piled into the bed and fell asleep quickly, Jakob between Sypha and Trevor. She kissed Trevor goodnight, and kissed Jakob’s forehead too. He definitely didn’t get all sappy over it, that was only the dust in the room. He fell asleep quickly, surrounded by the soft breathing of the people he loved.

A wolf howled in the woods outside.

When Jakob woke up, the sun was back into the sky, still a little pink. Sypha had left the bed at some point, and only he and a sleeping Trevor were in the bed. “Trevor, wake up. Did Sypha tell you were she was going?” Trevor, ever the morning person, woke up slowly.

“Wazzat?” he croaked, sleep crackling his voice. When Jakob was sure he was awake enough to answer questions, he tried again. “Sypha left the bed, do you know where she went?” “No, but she probably just went to the bathroom, or for breakfast. Speaking of, I could eat. You coming?”

They took a moment to straighten up their hair and clothes, rumpled from sleep. Trevor got a jab to the kidney because he wouldn’t stop laughing at Jakob’s hair. They left for the kitchen together, two growling stomachs on legs. When they got to the kitchen however, Jakob’s hunger was quickly forgotten.

At the kitchen table sat Sypha, as he’d expected, with a steaming mug of something that smelled of herbs. Across from her sat the man from yesterday. Sypha was talking to him with a friendly voice, his expression unreadable to Jakob. They halted, feet hallway through the door. Sypha finally noticed them and called them over. “Come here, you silly boys. How about some bread for breakfast. Oh! And Adrian made us tea, do you want some?”

Trevor sat down next to Sypha, and declined the tea. Jakob doubted whether the man had made any for them, or just for him and Sypha. He accepted the offer anyways, but stayed standing next to the table. The only available chair was next to the blond. He thanked Sypha when she pushed a steaming mug in his hands and turned to face the man. “I’m Jakob,” he tried again, “it’s nice to meet you.” The kitchen was silent, Trevor and Sypha apparently very interested in their interaction. Again, the man paused for a moment, before he answered. “Adrian. Likewise.” That was that, apparently, because he turned his attention back to Sypha rummaging through the cupboards. Jakob decided this was leagues better than yesterday and sat down next to Adrian. The tea was nice, herby and sweet. “Thank you for the tea, Adrian.” “Such manners,” he said, still not looking at Jakob. “Sypha must have kept Trevor’s influence from you.” “Hey!” protested Trevor, “I know manners, I just choose not to bother. Most people I’ve met don’t deserve my manners anyways.” Briefly, Jakob wondered what kind of people Trevor had met.

Trevor’s argument fell apart when Sypha asked, “So what about us, do we deserve your manners?” Trevor got a look on his face that said he realised he was caught in a trap. If he denied her, she would get mad for implying his friends didn’t deserve good treatment. If he agreed, he’d have to actually improve his behaviour. Trevor sat up straighter in his chair and chose the option least likely to make Sypha mad. “Sorry,” he said to the table, “I’ll do a little better.”

“Wonderful!” smiled Sypha, and even Adrian chuckled. He looked right at home, in the middle of their arguing.

Jakob’s thoughts were interrupted when Sypha put down a big plate of bread rolls and beef jerky on the table. It was so full, Jakob imagined he could hear the old table groan. Jakob took a bread roll and thanked Sypha. Trevor took his lead and also remembered to thank her for the meal. “Oh, and thank you, Adrian, this was probably your food.” Jakob remembered to thank him when he’d already taken a bite, talking through full cheeks. Adrian looked taken aback. “It- it’s my pleasure. Eat your fill.”

There, now Jakob wasn’t a little thief anymore, but a guest in Adrian’s house. Er, castle.

Adrian didn’t eat much, but with the four of them they managed to clear the plate. Where Trevor even stuffed all that food was a true wonder. He probably had a second stomach hidden somewhere in there. Jakob sipped more of his tea, taking the time to relish in it now that it wasn’t scalding the roof of his mouth. It dawned on him that this level of sweetness was a little extraordinary, especially for just water and herbs. It was as sweet as a baked apple. Sypha read the confusion on his face.

“Something the matter, Jakob?” “No, it’s just, this is very sweet. I like it, but I want to know what went into here so I can use it more myself. Is there really a plant this sweet?” It was Adrian who answered, surprisingly. “There is, actually, but in a country far from here. That sweetness isn’t a plant, I’ve added sugar to the pot.” Jakob couldn’t believe his ears. “Sugar?” he asked, incredulous. “Yes,” came Adrian’s mild reply, “The white granular stuff. People bake with it.” “No, I know what sugar is, thank you. But isn’t that like, super expensive? And you’d use it for breakfast tea?” Only the owner of a castle would use sugar like that. “I- hadn’t know it was expensive, or anything. My parents used it whenever they liked, so I thought-” Adrian looked genuinely confused. Huh.

He thought it was normal. He felt very sheltered, suddenly.

Jakob didn’t comment on his lack of common knowledge. Instead, he poured his full focus on savouring his tea. Sypha offered him her mug, and he accepted without even a token protest. He must have been enchanted with the taste. Adrian couldn’t remember the last time he’d savoured something so. Enraptured, he watched Jakob enjoy his tea.

Jakob made sure to savour the rest of his tea. He’d accepted a second helping without a thought. Sugar was amazing. When he came out of his sugar-induced stupor, his second mug was empty and the kitchen near silent. He looked up from his mug, wondering why the three of them had topped talking, only to realise they were staring at him. Even Adrian was.

“What?” he asked, to no one in particular. “Sometimes I forget how old you are, Jakob. When you go all soft and gooey over a sweet, I am reminded you’re still a kid.” Jakob blushed, and squawked “I’m not! I’m three-and-ten, not five.” Gooey, she said. A kid. He blushed harder and stared a hole through the table. Trevor ruffled his hair. “She’s right, buddy, you are adorable.” Jakob looked at Trevor, betrayed, who was grinning wide. Adrian chuckled again. Not him, too. “I’m leaving!”

Jakob sprung up from his chair, a little forcefully from embarrassment. He was halfway out the door when he realised he was still holding the empty mug, so he turned and put it on the counter. This time he did leave, but he caught the smile on Sypha’s face. He ran all the way back to their bedroom before he was able to calm down.

Now what would he do? He wasn’t sleepy, and he had no chores to do. He kind of wanted to explore something, but he thought he might get lost or find something scary without Trevor or Sypha there. He decided on exploring the library across the hall.

It wasn’t a big room, compared to the rest of the castle he’d seen so far, but still bigger than his old house’s kitchen. Besides the bookcase, there was only a hearth in the room. It was empty, no fire or ashes, but then the time of year allowed for it. The mantle was carved beautifully. It depicted what looked like half a forest’s worth of wildflowers, all carved with so much care Jakob could look at it all day and still find new details.

He decided against staring at a mantle all day and walked over to the bookcase instead. There was only one, but it was stacked full from top to bottom. The highest shelves had little trinkets on them, but Jakob wasn’t tall enough to look at them well. The lower shelves were about as dusty as the rest of the castle. There weren’t any trinkets on these shelves, but books were piled up behind and on top of each other so there wasn’t any room anyways. One book caught his eye.

The spine was way thinner than the other books, and it was very colourful, even through the grime.

He took the book out carefully and blew away the cobwebs. Papa had wanted him to learn the carpenter’s trade, so Jakob had been taught numbers and letters. Reading itself was still an incredible feat, but he was able to calculate lengths of wood easily. He took a look at the title. T-h-e  k-n-i-g-h-t   w-h-o   c-o-u-l-d-n’-t   s-i-t   s-t-i-l-l   a-n-d   o-t-h-e-r   s-i-l-l-y   s-t-o-r-i-e-s   f-o-r   c-h-i-l-d-r-e-n. The knight who couldn’t sit still and other silly stories for children. It sounded like it would be fun to read, but he wasn’t a child! Earlier embarrassment welled up again. But then again, it sounded so fun..

Jakob went to the opposite room and sat down on the couch, took his shoes off and sat on it comfortably, taking up nearly two seats. He dusted the book off some more and opened its first page. The table of contents promised stories about funny knights, stupid witches, talking animals and silly situations. Jakob went to the first chapter of the story about the talking animals.

The story contained a lesson about lying, and how things could go very wrong for you if you did. The animals lied to humans and pretended to be a tall, wonky human in a big cloak. Everything they did went wrong somehow, until they revealed their secret and set everything right again by doing things humans couldn’t, like flying. He had to focus a lot to read the words, sounding them out as he went, but by the end of the story the reading came a lot easier, and his shoulders were shaking with laugher. Seems he wasn’t the only one enjoying the story, because there came a muffled chuckle from the hallway. Jakob went to look and almost started again when he found Adrian leaning against the wall, laughing to himself. They looked at each other, both of them deer caught in the torchlight.

In a split second decision, Jakob sat down on the soft carpet and leaned against the wall. He started reading aloud the story about the funny knights. Adrian looked at him, a little confused, but realisation dawned on him soon enough. Hesitation on his face, he sat down next to Jakob, and listened to the story. Jakob focused on reading again. He wasn’t nearly halfway when he felt pressure on the top of his head and his shoulder. He paused and looked at Adrian, who had fallen asleep on top of him. Head to head, shoulder to shoulder. With his guard down, his sleeves had slipped up his arms a little. The scars peeked through.

Jakob hesitated only a moment and decided Adrian must’ve needed the rest. He read through the story about the knights, and the one about the witch, and the one about silly things. He tried very hard not to laugh Adrian awake. When the book was finished, he had nothing to do anymore, and leaned back onto the wall some more. Boredom and relaxation combined into a compelling force, and he fell asleep too.

Chapter Text

When he woke up a little while later, Adrian was still asleep. It was a little difficult to tell because he barely breathed to begin with, and sleep slowed his breathing further. Adrian twitched, mumbled something Jakob couldn’t make out. Maybe that’s what had woken him up.
Jakob listened intently. Adrian twitched again, harder. His hands balled into fists, relaxed, and balled again. He mumbled “I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t I swear-“ Jakob was sure he was having a nightmare. Should he wake him up? Adrian moved his hands to his legs and squeezed himself, his nails puncturing his pants. Somehow he didn’t wake himself up, and he was getting worse. “Adrian? Hello?” Jakob didn’t dare shake him. Suddenly Adrian sat up, removing any points of contact between their bodies. He breathed deeply for a moment, and asked, “Did you wake me up?”

Sleep had lowered his voice even further. Jakob thought he sounded like he would growl at him if he answered wrong. “Well, yes, but you were having a nightmare! I wanted to help.” He looked at Adrian, who had a stricken expression on his face. “I see, a nightmare. Thank you, Jakob. If you’ll excuse me.” He got up quickly and walked down the stairs too fast to be nonchalant. “And you have holes in your pants!” Jakob yelled after him. He got no answer.
Jakob tried to get off the floor, but sitting on the stone for so long had done murder on his legs. Even soft carpet was no match for sitting on the floor for hours, the weight of two people on your shoulders. His legs shook and had pins and needles in them. Jakob waddled over to the couch gingerly, and sat down carefully. It all hurt, and he waited for the agony to be over. It took far longer than Jakob would’ve liked before he was able to walk back to the bookcase and put the book back. He’d only just gotten a new book out, based on nothing but the pretty cover, when Adrian came into the room, carrying a tray. “Would you read to me some more?” he asked. He looked a little embarrassed about it. He wouldn’t look Jakob in the eye.
“I brought some more tea, for the trouble. Would you like a biscuit?” He did not have to think about it. “I want one!” said Jakob, a little too loud in his enthusiasm.
Adrian chuckled at his reaction and put the tray on a small table nearby. He poured two cups of tea and handed Jakob one, together with a bisquit. “What is that book about?” he asked. Jakob shrugged. “No idea, I haven’t read the title yet. I picked it because the cover looked pretty, look!” He showed Adrian the book’s cover, who humoured him by looking at it with interest. It was a deep blue colour, gilded trees printed all over the spine and the back.
The front read forest’s bounty, herbs every season. A book on herbs then, maybe on healing or edible ones. Jakob set his tea back on the table and opened the book to a random page. He made a face. “This one is too difficult for me” he said. The letters were tiny, the words too long. He walked back to the bookcase and asked Adrian, “Are there easier books in here?” Adrian came to look too, and pulled out a book from a high shelf. “This one should be good” he said. Jakob read the title aloud, “the big bounty.” On the cover stood a man in simple clothes and a mask, making a shushing motion at the reader. Behind him lay a big bag with gold coins. “Cool! Is he going to rob someone?” Adrian thought about it. “I think so? I don’t remember the story well. Think you’ll get through it?” Jakob took a look inside and nodded. It looked much like the very first book. Simple words, lots of pictures, a big font.
They walked back to the sitting room and took their places. Jakob took up nearly two seats again, closest to the table, Adrian sat on the other side of the couch. Before he began reading, Jakob bit into his biscuit. It tasted like sugar and hazelnuts. Adrian grinned at his expression. “I’m glad you like them. I can make more, later.” “You made these? That’s so amazing.” Jakob smiled wide, cheeks stuffed. He sipped his tea, the tastes combining to be even better. The biscuit was gone far too soon. Jakob must’ve looked heartbroken because Adrian laughed, and offered him his biscuit. “Can I really?” asked Jakob. “Yes, yes, just take the biscuit. I wouldn’t have offered, you know.” Appeased, Jakob took the treat. “Dunk it in the tea,” said Adrian. He did, and it was glorious. The biscuit didn’t last long enough again, but since Jakob was full, that didn’t matter. He finished his tea and opened the book. “In the shire of Nottingham lived a king, and a prince.” It was a good story, about a man who robbed only rich people, and gave poor people their money back. Jakob liked this man.

A little ways through the story, Jakob looked up to see what Adrian was up to. He’d gotten a book too, and a small stick of charcoal. His book was empty, and he was drawing on the pages. Jakob didn’t know if people were normally allowed to draw on books, but since this was probably Adrian’s book, not just any book, he didn’t ask. The drawing was of a person, on a big armchair. He couldn’t recognise the person, or the location. Jakob kept reading. There was an archery contest, and the good robber was in lots of danger. He always outsmarted the evil prince, which Jakob was very happy about. It wasn’t a funny story, but it was very good. There were chase scenes, and fight scenes, and a burning castle. The hero always got out scot-free, saved the princess and helped the good king take his throne back. When Jakob finally closed the book, his stomach was rumbling for dinner. Was it dinnertime yet? He couldn’t see the sun.
Adrian’s drawing had gotten far more detailed. The person was a boy, holding a book, with his feet on the chair like Jakob had been sitting. “Who’s that?” he asked. Adrian started out of his concentration. “That’s you. I did my best. Do you like it?” he seemed almost shy about it. “Sure. Is that really what I look like?” “What do you mean, you don’t know what you look like?” Jakob frowned. “Sure I do. I’ve got my papa’s curly hair, and my mama’s brown eyes. The drawing doesn’t have colour, how was I supposed to know?” “No, I mean, do you know what your face looks like? Have you seen it before?” Huh. Sure he had, in rivers and puddles and such. “I guess I haven’t looked very hard? Does it matter, what I look like? Half the time I’m unwashed and a little grimy anyways. I can’t remember my last haircut.” He could, actually. In their old kitchen, he sat on a chair while mama whistled a tune and cut his hair short, bits of brown curls floating into his lap. He just really didn’t want to talk about it.

Adrian looked horrified. “That reminds me, I’ve been a horrible host. You can take a bath anytime you like, but I should explain it to you first. Come.” Jakob walked after him, but protested that he could surely figure out a bath. Adrian walked past the library and the stairs, kept walking down the hall. He opened a door, seemingly at random, and Jakob walked in after him. The room was tiled with smooth white tiles, occasionally broken up by blue ones, forming an alternating pattern. In the room stood a big tub, the size of a wagon. Well, not really, but nearly. It wasn’t grimy or dusty at all, so it must’ve been used pretty recently.
“Here,” said Adrian, “is where the water comes out. You turn the knob, like so. This one gives you cold water, this one gives very hot water. Try not to hurt yourself. You plug this hole, and keep messing with the water until you like the temperature. Turn the water off when the tub is filled enough, or it’ll flood the bathroom. In here,” he opened a cupboard, full of towels and bottles, “is where I keep the towels and the soap. These are for your body, these make your hair soft.” He pointed to green bottles, and clear ones. They had a liquid in them that looked whitish. “How about this: I can hear your stomach from here. You go take a bath for a while, and I’ll come get you when dinner’s almost done. Deal?” “Deal!” Hot food and a hot bath? Yes please.
“It’s just, what do I do with my clothes?” Adrian looked like he hadn’t thought of that either. “I’ll see what I can find you. Give me a minute.”

He left the bathroom in a literal blur, disappearing for a moment to appear down the hallway again. He opened a door and a few seconds later he appeared in the bathroom again. “That’s so cool, how did you do that?” Adrien looked a little dazed and was breathing heavily. He scrunched his eyebrows together a fraction as he contemplated what Jakob had asked. “Oh! Ah, I forgot you didn’t know yet, sorry to scare you. Did they tell you about me?” He looked a little worried about Jakob’s reaction. “They told me you’re part vampire, is that how you can run so fast?” Jakob sounded enthusiastic, not scared. Adrian relaxed his posture and caught his breath. It took him an actual second or two, to recover from his brief stunt.
“Yes, it is. Do you find me frightening?” Jakob didn’t need to think it over. “Not really. Besides when we first met, you’ve been super nice to me. I’m not scared of my friends!” he smiled at Adrian, who smiled back. Well, the corners of his mouth lifted a bit, but for him that was basically the same.

“In that case, what do you think about these?” Adrian held up trousers and a woollen jumper. The trousers looked just his size, the jumper looked comfortably loose. “I think those’ll work. So I turn this knob, and wait?” “Exactly. Don’t undress just yet, you’ll get cold. I’ll come get you within an hour, so you’ve got some time to dry off before dinner is served.”

Adrian closed the door behind him, and Jakob plugged the bathtub closed. He turned the hot water on first, partly because he didn’t fully believe hot water could appear from out of a wall. For the first few seconds the water was very cold, as expected. It gradually got warmer until it was so hot Jakob pulled his hand away from the stream. He marvelled at the magic of it as the bathroom filled with steam. When the bath was mostly full of hot water, he switched to the cold tap. It cooled the bath to a temperature Jakob liked; so hot his skin turned red.
He remembered to get a bottle of the soap and the hair-soap before he undressed and got in. The hot water felt amazing on his muscles, used to travel as they were, and he relaxed for a minute. When he was good and soaked, he unplugged the green bottle of soap and poured some out. He tried rubbing it on his arm, where it turned to a lather. Where the soap had been, his skin was lighter from the lack of grime.

In the kitchen sat Trevor and Sypha. Adrian halted at the door when he saw how tense they looked. Sypha noticed him. “Adrian, hey. Come, sit. We have some questions.” Well, that did not bode well for him. He sat.
She fired off her questions as soon as he was seated. “We saw the Hold. It’s in much better condition than the castle. Did you procrastinate the castle maintenance on purpose? And some of the artefacts aren’t were they’re supposed to be. Someone went through the Hold. Do you know what happened?” It was a lot, and he took a moment to order his thoughts.
“Yes, I held back on castle maintenance on purpose. The Hold had a gaping hole in the roof. I wasn’t going to let the entire thing succumb to water damage. The castle will be fine.” He sighed, thought about what he was going to say next. He couldn’t look them in the eye. “Yes, someone went through the Hold. I told you I took people in, and they tried to kill me.” There was so much blood. “They used some artefacts to try and get the edge over me. I imagine they didn’t know or particularly cared about where to put back the things they’d rifled through.” He thought he sounded bitter.
Trevor’s eyebrows were scrunched up in confusion as he shifted in his seat. Adrian was fiddling with the edges of his sleeves, tugging the hems over his wrists. “Can you tell us more about them? I still don’t understand how they managed to take you by surprise.” There was so much silver, too. The ropes were still embedded in his mattress.
“They came when I slept. They had a device that bound me with silver ropes.” He shuddered at the ghost of pain over his scars.
He got up, his body thrumming with nervous energy. He turned his back to the table and started cutting the vegetables for dinner.

Sypha spoke up next. “Adrian, you’ve been curt with us the entire time we’ve been here. I’ve only seen you laugh when Jakob is in the room. I know they hurt you, but why are you mad at us?” Why, indeed. He chopped the vegetables with more force than was necessary. Tenderized, he thought. He almost chuckled.
“You left me here.” He thought about his next words as Sypha gasped. “I said I intended to make this castle my grave, and smiled and you got on your little cart. What was your plan? To travel at you own pace, and to grace me with your presence when it suited you?” His voice cracked a little. “Did you know I’d never had friends, before Gr󠅟eşit?" He heard Sypha sniffle, heard Trevor shift. Hurt put an edge to his voice.
"Did you really only come back because you needed a place to sleep?"

“We came because we knew we would be welcome here. Are we not?” asked Sypha. She sounded so tired. “I don’t know,” he answered, and he spoke the truth. It was an exquisite torture, to have them in his castle again. Their laughter rung off the castle walls again, but for how long? “And yet I could not stand to see you leave again.”
He could barely breathe. He needed space so very badly, and he needed to make dinner like he’d promised. “You should rest.” He ground the words out. He could not bear to look at them as they left the kitchen.
He cooked like he had before, his body moving without his brain telling it to. He seared, boiled and spiced the food without a clue as to what it tasted like. He couldn’t swallow a thing.

Jakob rubbed his whole body raw, turning redder than before. When he was done, he emptied the bathwater. It had gotten a satisfying brownish colour. He shivered on the floor for a few minutes, until the bath had filled up again. This time he opened the bottle Arian had said was good for his hair. He lathered in and made silly shapes with his soapy hair before he dunked his head under. When he was all done washing himself, he sat in the bath, relaxed and warm. As he’d promised, Adrian knocked on the door and said through it “Dinner in fifteen minutes. I’ll see you in the kitchen.” Jakob yelled he’d heard, and unplugged the bath.
He got a towel out of the closet that was bigger than he was tall. He tried drying his body first, but his dripping hair kept getting dry body wet again. He rummaged through the closet for a smaller towel and used it to dry his hair as best he could. Then he finally got his body dry, and put on the clothes Adrian had got for him. As he’d expected, the trousers fit nicely. His only complaint was that they smelt a bit stale. The jumper was soft and warm, and a gorgeous dark blue. It was too big for him, as he’d thought, but that made it all the more comfortable. He dug his axe out from his old clothes and put it on with his belt again. Satisfied and dressed, he made his way to the kitchen. Whatever Adrian had made smelled of spices and herbs and meat.
On the table stood a bowl with raw vegetables, a steaming pot of roast meat and sauce and a bowl of bread. Adrian was stirring a small pot of liquid above the fire. He must’ve made an awed sound, because Adrian looked up and smiled (a real smile this time, not just the corners of his mouth. Two of his teeth were strangely big). “I’ll lend you a comb after dinner, you look like you’ve walked through a gale.” Undeterred, Jakob walked into the kitchen. “Well, thanks for the compliment. The bath was amazing. What did you make?” “A salad, roast pork in gravy and vegetable soup. Here,” he handed Jakob a tray, laden with portions of dinner. “They’re in your bedroom. Would you bring this to them?” Weird. “Sure.”

He walked up the stairs carefully, mindful of the mugs of soup and bowls of gravy. He knocked on their bedroom door. “Guys? Could you open the door? My hands are full.” Trevor opened door, looking confused. A light dawned when he saw dinner. Jakob put the tray down on a nightstand.

Sypha was sitting on the bed, doing her best not to look at him. Something was going on. “Is everything all right? Why aren’t you eating in the kitchen?” Trevor sighed and ruffled his hair. “It’s okay little bud, we’re just sorting some stuff out. We made a mistake, and we need some time to fix it. Do you know if Adrian is all right?” “I guess he’s fine? I read him a book, and he showed me the bathroom, and he cooked dinner, and it looked amazing, and he seemed happy I liked it. Did you have a fight?” Trevor flinched. Sypha still wasn’t looking at him, but she said “Something like it, yes. It’s our fault, really. Go have dinner Jakob, give us some time. It’s going to be all right.” She tried to sound reassuring, but her voice wasn’t cheerful like usual and it crackled. Jakob suspected she’d been crying. He’d never seen her cry before. He decided to do as they asked of him. He didn’t want to upset them by overstaying his welcome. “All right, I’ll go, but you have to tell me what’s wrong later, when it’s all better.” He didn’t give them time to argue, and closed the door instead.

He went back downstairs in a worse mood than before, but the smell of dinner made it better. Adrian was done with the soup and sat at the table, in the same spot as yesterday. Jakob decided to sit in his spot, too. Jakob dished himself a huge portion of everything, ravenous. He barely remembered to thank Adrian for the food before he tucked in. Adrian didn’t eat as much, but looked happy Jakob enjoyed himself.
The meat was soft and juicy still, the soup was perfectly salty. He didn’t like the salad very much, but decided to finish his portion anyways, to be polite. He emptied his plate and went back for a second helping of pork, finishing that too. Eating loads of tavern food on Sypha’s demand had given him a bigger stomach. Finally satisfied, he felt like he’d doubled in size. Adrian was laughing at him. Jakob made a face at him, which only made him laugh harder, shoulders shaking.
Dinner finished, they washed the pots together. The leftovers they stored in the cool cellar for tomorrow. They’d only have to peel some potatoes, and heat up the meat-soup-stew mixture for a full meal, easy as pie. The leftover vegetables they tossed into the compost heap of Adrian’s small garden, accessible through the cold storage cellar. He grew his own vegetables there, he said, just enough for one, together with whatever the forest provided him. When Jakob suggested building the garden bigger to accommodate for four people, Adrian got a strange, hard look in his eye. He left without a word.

Chapter Text

Jakob didn’t know the castle at all, and he felt he should hold off on returning to the bedroom, so he went through the library again. He remembered Adrian’s comment about his hair, and tried finger-combing it. He couldn’t see what he was doing, so he just hoped it’d helped. He picked another book with a pretty spine. He couldn’t actually read it, but it had beautiful hand-drawn pictures of animals in it. It even showed their bones and named their organs.
There were wolves and foxes, bears, lynxes, hawks, owls and even a diagram of what an owl pellet usually looked like. It had tiny mouse bones in it, and bits of fur. Thumbing back to the title page, it read 'predatory wildlife in the Carpathian mountains, a collection of anatomical information'. “Pred-a-tory wildlife in the Car-path-ian mountains, a collection of a-na-to-mi-cal infor-mation” he spelled out, slowly. He wondered what the Car-path-ian mountains were, and if they were near. They sounded dangerous. When he fell asleep on the couch, he dreamt of wolves in the forest.

It was early for sleep, and he could not relax. He worried over Trevor and Sypha, worried over Jakob’s reaction to his mood swings, worried over when they’d leave again. He roamed the castle on four legs, a white ghost in empty halls. His body was tired, and his mind was calmer in this form. He scented the air for Jakob, and found him asleep on the sitting room couch, curled up over a book. Adrian laid himself beside the couch, and drifted off without a second thought into a wonderful, dreamless sleep.

When Jakob woke up, there was a wolf in the library. No, really.
Jakob couldn’t believe his eyes, he thought he was still dreaming. He pinched himself, and it hurt, and he counted his ten, normal fingers. The wolf lay at the foot of the couch, on the carpet, breathing softly.
It hadn’t noticed Jakob awake yet. Was it asleep? What should he do? A tiny, fearful sound escaped him. His heart hammered in his chest. If he yelled for Sypha, or Trevor, would they arrive to help before the wolf got him? God, the thing was huge. It had beautiful white fur, and it spanned the whole length of the three-seater couch. Another fearful sound came from Jakob’s throat. This time, it woke the wolf up.
It raised his head and looked for the source of the sound. It found Jakob, looked him in the eye. It dragged itself half upright and laid its big head on Jakob’s lap, licked his hands. It closed its eyes again, seeming for all the world like an overlarge, sleepy lapdog. Okay. Focus. The thing hadn’t eaten him yet. Actually, it didn’t seem very aggressive, or hungry. Jakob remained seated and silent. With time, his thundering heart calmed somewhat, though he was still afraid of what the wolf was going to do next.
They remained like that for a while. It felt like a quarter of an hour had passed, before the wolf stirred again. It opened its eyes and looked at Jakob again, its eyes intelligent. For some reason, Jakob had the urge to talk to it. “Hello,” he said to it, “please don’t eat me. I promise I’m not as tasty as I look. I shouldn’t have bathed yesterday. You probably wouldn’t eat a dirty boy, would you?” He must have lost his capacity for reason, asking a wolf not to eat him.

The wolf lifted its head off Jakob’s lap and yawned, its teeth on display. It stretched out, head to the floor and tail arched high up into the air. It almost looked cute. It looked at Jakob again, looked away, looked at him again, looked away again. It looked like a guilty dog.
The wolf trotted out of the room. Not a minute later Adrian came through the door, looking apologetic and carrying a box of biscuits. “I’m so sorry, Jakob, I didn’t mean to scare you, I don’t know what came over me.” Some puzzle pieces clicked in Jakob’s head. “Wait, you’re the wolf?” he asked, he was nearly yelling, he realised. “Ah, yes, that was me. Before I knew it I fell asleep, I wasn’t thinking clearly, sorry.” Jakob waved away the apologies. “Yes, yes, we can go over how sorry you are later, you can turn into a wolf? Is that a vampire thing too?”
Adrian looked a little less uncomfortable now, and explained. “Yes, it’s a vampire attribute. Some turn into bats, or clouds of fog, I turn into a wolf. It’s nice.”
Jakob couldn’t imagine, but he hadn’t run out of questions yet anyways. “Why were you sleeping here anyways? You have a bedroom, don’t you?” At the mention of it, Adrian’s face soured. “I don’t go there much. It’s a real mess.” The state of his bedroom seemed to weigh on Adrian a lot. Jakob decided to go for a change of topic, tried for a sillier mood. “Got it, apology accepted and all that. Can I have a biscuit now?” Adrian chuckled and handed him the box. “Try not to eat all of them,” he warned, “I don’t think I’ll bake many more for a while.” Jakob made a dramatic sad face and scarfed down a biscuit. Sugar, amazing.

With his belly full of sweets Jakob prepared himself a small breakfast. Adrian showed him how to make tea, deciding the tealeaves needed a new spot in the cupboard. Where they were now was far too high up for Jakob to reach unless he climbed the counter, or a chair. The leaves got a new spot in a cupboard under the counter, together with the teakettle Adrian showed him how to use. Only after promising to be very careful with the boiling water, twice, was he allowed to pour his own mug, and Adrian’s.
He left for their bedroom with his tea and a strip of dried pork’s meat. He stopped at the door and heard Trevor snoring. He decided against waking them up. Instead, he dragged a stool out of a nearby room and sat in the hallway with his tea and a book, to wait for them to get out of bed. Not an hour later Sypha opened the bedroom door and started at the sight of him. She closed the door behind her and whispered to Jakob, “Good morning, have you had breakfast yet?” “I have,” whispered Jakob back, “but let’s get you some!”
She agreed, and they went down to the kitchen together. Her face looked fine this morning, and Sypha was willing to look him in the eye. She didn’t look like she’d cried during the night, and Jakob was glad for it. To lighten the mood, he told her of his interaction with Adrian this morning. “He brought biscuits to apologise, it was very effective. And I can make myself tea now! He showed me how to. Do you want some?” Sypha’s mood had improved during the story, and she agreed to his offer for tea, mostly because he seemed so excited to be able to make her some.
Adrian wasn’t in the kitchen, and they sat at the table with their tea in comfortable silence. “Jakob,” Sypha began, “If you made a big mistake, how would you apologise?” Phew, now there was a heavy topic for over breakfast. His face probably said as much, because Sypha looked apologetic.

“This is about you guys and Adrian, right? What even happened? I mean, we came all the way here to see him, so did you guys fight that very first night?”
Sypha sighed. “We made our mistake a long while ago, it just happened to become important recently. I have to warn you. The full story is pretty long, and pretty heavy, and I feel very bad as an adult bothering a teenager with all of it when I barely handle it myself. But, you deserve to know more about us. Would you like to?” Jakob nodded for her to begin, and carefully poured her more tea. With a grateful smile, she started talking.
“Less than two years ago a woman named Lisa Tepeş was killed, because the church thought she was a witch.” What a start, the poor woman. Jakob made a face. He recognised this story.

“Yes, I know. The thing is, she was married to a powerful vampire named Dracula. You said you’ve heard of him?” He had.
“Dracula summoned an army of devils, and set them loose on all the humans, and then he was killed right? I remember something about a pro-phe-cy and three people.” Sypha nodded.
“Yes, very good. A Speaker, a Hunter and a Soldier would come together and kill Dracula, to stop his attempt to kill all the humans. Well, I’m a Speaker, and Trevor is a monster hunter, and Adrian is the soldier of the prophecy.” Jakob was very proud to have storybook heroes for friends.
“Something like half a year ago, give or take some weeks, we three teamed up in Greşit and went to kill Dracula in this very castle. As you can tell, we succeeded.” Jakob nodded. Dracula died and his army was set loose, and now he was sat in a castle that noticeably did not feature an evil vampire lord.
“It was hard on Adrian. He’s the son of Dracula’s and Lisa’s marriage, and he was the one who landed the final attack on his own father. As far as we can tell, he actually had a good childhood and such, before Dracula went mad with grief.” Jakob’s head was spinning with all the new information. “Poor Adrian. That sounds horrible.”
Sypha smiled a sad smile. “It was yes, except we didn’t see that at the time. Trevor and I, we wanted to leave the castle again. We weren’t used to a lifestyle of staying in one place for very long. So, we left Adrian here, alone, in a castle filled with dead vampires and broken walls and the ashes of his father. And we thought he would just- be fine with that, that he’d continue to be stoic, infallible Alucard, clean up the castle some, and that we’d come grace him with our presence when we felt like it. We were fools. We had our heads so far up our own asses we didn’t even-” Sypha looked mad, at herself, and tightened her hands around her mug.

“Of course he wasn’t all right. Nobody would be. But because he’s half vampire, and because we were blind, we didn’t see the ways in which he told us how much pain he was in. We left him here,” she repeated, as her eyes grew damp.
“Two other people came to the castle. I think they became friends for a while. We still don’t know what happened, Adrian won’t talk about it, but those people died horribly. Adrian probably killed them, and he has these awful scars-“ she was really crying now, shoulders shaking so hard her tea spilled over the rim of her mug.
Jakob took the mug from her hands, and sat beside her. “We failed him. We stormed in here, tired and concerned and we weren’t careful enough. I think he was already fragile, before we arrived. So yes, we fought, that first night. We still haven’t talked about it properly, or apologised. I- I don’t know what to do anymore.” This was the first time she’d actually cried in front of him. Strong, optimistic Sypha broke down when Jakob hugged her close. They sat in silence a while, waiting for Sypha’s tears to run out. When she’d dried her face and drank her tea, Jakob asked, “Have you been avoiding each other?” She nodded.
“You should spend some time with him. For dinner, tonight, I’ll eat in the library. Tell Trevor that this dinner is important.” Jakob thought for a second before he launched into his own story. “One time, I got into a fight with a girl in the village over a misunderstanding with my brother. Papa made us sit down and talk about it, and whenever we got too angry or something he’d hit us upside the head to make us stop. It sucked, but it worked. I’m not saying I’ll stand in the kitchen and hit you whenever Trevor talks too loud,” he joked, but Sypha didn’t lighten up. “But you definitely need the time to talk. Does he know what you thought of him? Do you know what he was thinking when you left?” he left his questions to sink in. “And bring something tasty. Biscuits seem to work for me. Cook him dinner? There’s yesterday’s leftovers in the cellar, if you want.” There fell a companionable silence as Sypha thought his words over.
After a little while, Sypha stood up. “I need to talk to Trevor.” She kissed his forehead and ruffled his hair. “You are one amazing kid. I hope you stay that way.” She left before he could protest, why would she want him to stay a kid forever? That would be horrible.

He cleaned up their mugs and headed outside to the vegetable garden. He had nothing better to do, so he laid in the soft grass and dozed. He fell asleep for a little while, and when he woke up the sun was around noon. Also, wolf-Adrian was lying next to him again. Was this going to become a habit?

He’d been holding out on the impulse all morning, now that he knew the wolf wasn’t some wild thing that would bite his fingers off. He reached out and stroked the wolf between the ears. Adrian’s eyes snapped open and he looked at Jakob, startled. Jakob looked apologetic. “Sorry, you looked so soft. Should I not do that?” In answer, Adrian laid his head across Jakob’s stomach again. They dozed together as Jakob petted the pretty white fur.
When they woke, the sun was hanging low, and there was the smell of dinner in the air. They’d slept straight through lunch, then. Jakob woke Adrian up. “Hey, it’s dinnertime. We should head to the kitchen.” Adrian stood up and moved his wolf-face in a way that looked weirdly concentrated for a second. Then, wolf-Adrian’s shape blurred and twisted. Jakob hadn’t blinked, but he also hadn’t seen the moment where wolf-Adrian turned into human-Adrian. Before he knew it, Adrian stood in a kneeled position on the grass, and righted himself.

“So, what’s being pet feel like?” asked Jakob. Adrian blushed a little in shame. “It’s nice. It’s like when people play with your hair, but better. Thank you.” Jakob smiled. “Any time,” and he looked genuine. They walked into the kitchen together.
Trevor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw then together. He and Sypha looked nervous. Adrian immediately felt bad about his earlier attitude.
Jakob surprised him, when he said he wanted to eat in the library. He said he wanted to read a book, and he’d take dinner up with him. Adrian felt like he was up to something, but Jakob was already gone before he could ask.

“I wanted to eat in the library! There’s this book I want to read so I’ll take dinner with me,” Jakob said, as he grabbed a bowl of food and a tray. He looked intently at Adrian. “You should have dinner,” he said, and he did his best to channel mama’s no-nonsense tone that bore no arguments. He turned and left the kitchen before anybody could protest.
He didn’t really have a book he wanted to read, so he picked the one from this morning. He looked at the drawings of animals some more, and tried to read what they were called. There was their normal name, like bear, or wolf, but behind it came a jumble of letters that seemed to have no meaning at all. “Ur-sus arc-tos” he read. Brown bear, said the title. It sounded like someone had seen the name ‘brown bear’ and decided that was too boring, and had chosen a series of random letters to name the animal instead. Poor bear, with nobody able to say its name. He continued reading the weird long names all evening. He dozed off with a full belly.

“What was that about?” Arian asked no one in particular. Instead of an answer, Sypha took his hand and led him to the dining table. “Sit,” she said, “we’ll get your food.”
Dinner was yesterday’s leftovers, repurposed into a new meal. They’d made the various dishes into a big pot of stew, together with potatoes and more vegetables. It smelled nice. He wondered if he would taste any of it.
They ate in silence, both because the mood was a little suspicious, and because Adrian had no idea what to say. When he’d cleared his plate, he had found the words to apologise. “I’m sorry for yesterday. I was in a bad mood. You did not deserve to bear the consequences of it.”
Trevor responded. “It’s fine. We had some time to think, and talk. Jakob actually suggested we have dinner together, to talk things out. He’s a good kid.” Adrian smiled. That sounded like something Jakob would suggest. “We wanted to tell you our side of the story,” said Sypha. “We left you here, and we wanted to explain ourselves. That won’t change what we did, but it might help, anyways.” Adrian took a deep breath, and nodded for her to continue.

He looked so strong, she said. He always seemed closed off, infallible. Of course he’d be all right, he’s Alucard, why wouldn’t he be?
Was that really what they thought of him? That he’d shrug it all off?
Trevor continued, saying he never knew for sure if they were good friends or not. “You always gave back as good as you got, but I don’t think you and I ever had a genuine conversation, before we came back. Had we?” No, they hadn’t. Trevor tended to shield himself to protect himself, and Adrian hid behind his mask of indifference. He’d rather push people away than let them leave.
“No, I don’t think I ever bared my heart. I never realised how much you’d changed me until you left. I think-” he shuddered. His hands were unsteady. “I think I want to tell you what happened.” He was desperate to tell someone, anyone, to get it off his chest, finally.

They sat up straighter, gave him their full attention. He shrunk under their gaze, knowing of the shame he’d have to lay bare. He didn’t look them in the eyes, but he talked.
“Their names were Taka, and Sumi.” Their faces flashed before his eyes. “They’d heard of a vampire who killed other vampires, and they wanted my help. I was lonely here, before they came. I hadn’t spoken to a sentient being in two weeks. I let them into the castle. You had blown open my defences when you left. I let them into my heart, too soon.” He breathed, tried to get his voice under control, he looked anywhere but at his friend’s faces. Pain coursed through his veins, angry, too sensitive and yet half-forgotten. Shame reared its ugly head, manifesting in the tremble in his fingers as he tugged on his sleeves.
“They came into my room one night. I thought something was wrong, that there was danger. They assured me everything was fine. ‘You’ve been so alone’ they said, ‘you deserve a reward’ they said.” His face twisted in and anger. “I thought they cared for me. I thought they were right, I did deserve someone who cared. I let them into my bed. They waited until I let my guard down. They bound me to the bed with silver ropes. They took advantage of me.” He was aware that he was crying, but he had no energy to try and stop. “I couldn’t move, couldn’t convince them to stop. They were beyond reason, and they would kill me before they listened to a word I said. It hurt so much, you have no idea. I slit their throats. I saw the life bleed out of them.” His entire body shook with the memories. “You were right, Trevor. Something bled to death in my bedroom.” Trevor didn’t look happy about it. “I was so angry. I thought I could trust them. I thought they deserved what I did to them. Perhaps they did, perhaps they didn’t.” He finally, finally locked eyes with Trevor. He was crying, too. “And all that because I couldn’t swallow my pride, and ask you to stay. Aren’t I pathetic?” He stopped tugging on one of his sleeves for long enough to wipe his face with one. He stared at the wet patches on the fabric, a patchwork of streaks of dirt and vegetable stains, which might have been a pristine white in a previous life.
Sypha sprung out of her seat and crossed the distance between them. She gathered his shoulders and hugged his head to her chest. Her arms shook. He couldn’t believe it, at first. She held him tight, even though he hadn’t moved. His brain caught up with her, and he cried in her arms. Trevor moved to stand beside them, and hugged the both of them fiercely. Adrian had one arm slung around Sypha’s torso, and he held Trevor’s hand with bruising strength. Sudden steel overtook his spine, and he could not have released them even if he wanted to.

It felt like hours, before he got control over his body back. He loosened his iron grip on Sypha’s dress and sat straighter in his chair. They looked at him with pity, and sorrow. He could not endure it. “I’m sorry,” he said. He unravelled himself from their arms, unwound his hair out of Trevor’s fingers. “I need a break. I’ll be back, I promise. And I’m not mad. I just need time.” He was rambling and stumbling over his words in his haste to recover himself somewhere private. Sypha nodded she understood. As he moved upstairs, he broke out into a run. He didn’t know exactly when two legs turned to four, but it was better this way.
He wanted out. He wanted to be pet. He wanted to be alone, and yet he wanted someone with him. He couldn’t be with Trevor or Sypha right now. That left-

Chapter Text

Adrian wanted to stay in the forest a bit longer, so Jakob went back inside the castle alone. He went via the garden and the storage cellar. Once again he started when someone was already in the kitchen. Trevor sat at the table with a plate of last night’s dinner, untouched, and an empty mug that smelled alcoholic. He didn’t look up when Jakob walked in, or when he started and closed the door loudly. He had his head in his hands. Jakob waited a moment, but Trevor seemed intent on ignoring him. That wouldn’t do.
Jakob took a seat opposite of Trevor and waited. He passed the time by thinking up new stories to tell Adrian later. He thought of wizards and monsters. He hadn’t kept track of time, but it felt like an hour had passed when Trevor finally broke the silence.
“Please don’t, kid.” Jakob pretended he couldn’t hear him. Trevor sounded tired. Had he been here all night? Jakob was partway through a story about a magician befriending a goblin before Trevor relented. “Look, we talked, just like you said.” He sighed. “We told him why we went. He told us about the people who lived here for a while. It was awful, Jakob.” Trevor looked him in the eye. He shuddered. His eyes were red-rimmed and watery. “What have we done?” His voice crackled. Jakob thought he saw a tear fall, but Trevor put his face back in his hands before Jakob could be sure. “Does he know you’re sitting here, crying?” Trevor seemed ready to argue, on instinct. “I’m not-“
He sighed. "No. Should he?” “I think he’s still by the river. You should see him. He’s better than last night.” Trevor thought it over. Jakob stood. “I’m going to take a nap. If I see you in the kitchen when I wake up, I’ll ask Sypha to set your pants on fire.” He joked, but Trevor understood his intent.
Jakob went to their bedroom. Sypha was asleep, Jakob crawled in beside her. She didn’t stir, so he turned around and closed his eyes.

He’d been watching a bird bathe in the river when he heard someone come through the brush. Going off the amount of noise, he guessed it was Trevor. He’d guessed right, but he was surprised anyways. Trevor was- Lord above, but Trevor was crying. Adrian wondered when he’d seen anything but gruff endearment or guilt on his face.
He jumped up, rushed to Trevor’s side. “What’s wrong?” His hands fluttered at Trevor’s shoulders and arms, he didn’t know where to put them. Trevor took his hand and sat them both down at the edge of the river.
He was still crying, when he said, “I feel like an absolute failure and I have no idea what to do about it.” He smiled at Adrian through watery eyes. “Jakob suggested I go see you, instead of wallow in the kitchen.” All the sugar in the world wasn’t enough. Adrian briefly wondered if he could grow beets in his garden. “Did you want to talk to me?” Trevor shook his head. He hadn’t released his hand yet. The warmth of it worked loose a knot in Adrian’s chest. “No, I just wanted to see you. I think you deserve to see me hate myself.” Adrian searched for the right words. “I wanted to punish you, once,” he admitted. “ I felt betrayed, I think. Now that you’re in front of me and hurting, I only grieve for it.” He smiled, too. “You needn’t resent yourself.” Trevor huffed a laugh. “Good to know, you stuck-up bastard.”
They watched the birds together. Trevor stopped crying, eventually. “I’m going back to the castle. I’m in the mood for lunch. Are you coming?” Adrian needed a little longer to work through his emotions, so he declined. He lamented the loss of warmth when Trevor went.

Jakob woke up to Sypha petting his hair. She looked much better this morning.
“Good afternoon,” she joked, “want to get some lunch?” Just then, Jakob’s stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten breakfast. The growl nearly reverberated off the walls of the room. Sypha laughed at him, and pulled him out of bed. “I’ve got my answer,” she said. “Let’s go see what Trevor’s up to.” Trevor, apparently, was just beginning to make himself lunch.
He stood by the stove with a frying pan. On the counter sat a basket of eggs. He saw the two of them walk in, and made a dramatically panicked face while he held the pan if front of him like a shield. “Please don’t set my pants on fire! I promise I talked to Adrian.” Sypha stared at him, confused. Jakob was clutching his sides with laughter. “Well, good morning to you, too. What’s that all about?”
Trevor shot Jakob a betrayed look. “What, so you’re not here to threaten me?” Jakob managed to take a deep breath. “I had to force him to go talk to Adrian. I said if I came back from my nap and he was still in the kitchen, I’d ask you to set fire to his pants.” Sypha understood immediately. “Oh, so you’re using me to threaten people? How dare you! You don’t need to threaten people if you want me to set their pants on fire.” She made a shape with her hand, her middle and ring finger touching her thumb. “That’s no effort at all!” Trevor panicked again.
“No, please, I’ve only got one good pair of pants. Mercy!” he cried. Sypha smiled an evil smile. “I’m aware. All right, but I’m forfeiting your lunch as payment.” Trevor sighed. “You extortionist, you.” Sypha smiled, a nice smile this time, and she sat at the table. “Ah, but you love me anyways.” Trevor agreed. “That I do. Your breakfast, Madam Speaker. What’ll it be, Jakob?” Jakob sat in his spot and waited for his scrambled eggs while Sypha wolfed down her plate of sunny-side-ups.
Trevor sat down with his own portion, and Jakob had barely started on his eggs when Adrian walked into the kitchen’s back door. All at once, the kitchen fell silent. Sypha and Trevor looked like caught deer. Jakob quickly took charge of the conversation. “Good morning, er afternoon, Adrian! Eggs?” Adrian weighed his options. His hunger won out. “I’ll take you up on that, thank you.” But Jakob didn’t get up, and Looked at Trevor expectantly instead. He got the message. “Ah! Yes, of course. Is scrambled all right?” Adrian took his seat as Trevor cracked some eggs into the pan. They still didn’t speak to each other, but the mood wasn’t as tense now. Sypha gave Adrian a tentative smile. He lifted a corner of his mouth back. In a minute Trevor put a plate of eggs in front of Adrian. With everybody served, they ate in silence. Sypha looked thoughtful over her empty plate.

When they were done, Jakob took the empty plates to the counter and made tea for everyone. While he waited for the water to boil, Sypha spoke. “Jakob? Come here for a second.” He walked over, and she took his hand and brushed her thumb over his palm, which felt nice. She looked serious. “We’ve been fighting, and talking, and we’re having a hard time. I’ve seen how you help us out. You keep carrying our problems with you, and I don’t think that’s fair.” She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. Trevor and Adrian looked a little shocked, like they hadn’t exactly realised that Jakob had been doing that, until now.
“We’re going to handle our problems like adults, and we’ll stop depending on you so much. I want to talk about fun things with you, instead of our fights. Is that all right with you?” Jakob thought about it. “I don’t think I’ve had a hard time,” he began, “but I’d like for you guys to make up. I do want to do more fun things, actually. With all of you.” Sypha smiled at him, and Trevor and Adrian were nodding along. The water was done, and Jakob let go of Sypha’s hand to take the tea and the mugs over to the table. It was nice, to sit together.

When they had finished with their tea, Trevor and Sypha excused themselves to wash up. Adrian, who confessed he was tired of the forest for a little while, suggested he teach Jakob how to bake. Jakob was game immediately. His enthusiasm was infectious. “It’s simple, really. Baking is a lot of measuring and mixing, and then you let the oven do the rest.” He explained. “With a cake you’ve got some more room for error, but you have to measure very well for cookies. Everything from your amount of sugar, to how much space you leave on the baking sheet is important. Which one would you rather make?”
Jakob, who recognized a challenge when he heard one, chose the cookies. On Adrian’s insistence they washed their hands before they got to measuring. He had a strange device stowed away in his cupboards. It was tall, with a long arm. There hung two bowls on each end. “This is a measuring scale,” he explained. “You select how much of something you want to weigh by putting weights on one end. Then you keep adding flour or whatever on the other end until the scale balances itself. Here, you try.”
Jakob calculated which weights to use, once again thankful his papa had taught him maths. He measured the flour, sugar, butter and honey. Adrian put all the dry ingredients in a big bowl. They melted the butter with the honey and gently kneaded the mass into a dough. Adrian used a round metal ring to cut neat cookies, and Jakob used a small knife to cut stars, trees and wolves. The trees came out of the oven a little wonky, and the wolves lost any recognisable features. The stars looked good though, and they all tasted nice no matter the shape.

Sypha and Trevor were in the sitting room upstairs, their hair still a little wet from bathing. They shared the still warm cookies with more tea. Sypha sighed dramatically about being spoiled, but she didn’t seem to mind.
Trevor’s hair was wet and ruffled, which made it stick nearly straight upwards, defying gravity. It made Adrian feel warm. The sight of a droplet disappearing in the collar of Sypha’s dress turned his insides to liquid. She and Trevor had bathed together, the realisation sending him into a mood he didn’t recognise.
Of course they would bathe together. They slept in the same room, too. They must have started their relationship while traveling.
He tried very hard not to feel envious. Who he was envious of, he didn’t know. He did his best to let the warm cookies cheer him up. He patted some flour out of Jakob’s hair.

Chapter Text

Jakob woke up when Adrian, wolf-Adrian, barged into the room and pulled at his trousers. He woke up with a start, confused as to why Adrian was tugging him off the couch. “All right, all right, I’m right behind you. Go on.”
He wiped the sleep out of his eyes and followed Adrian down a route he hadn’t seen before. They turned left and right and went down stairs, until they found themselves in the big front hall again. Adrian looked at Jakob, and at the doors. Huh.
Jakob opened the massive doors with surprising ease, and followed Adrian over the clearing. He seemed to know where he wanted to go. The sun had completely set and Jakob had to take care not to stumble in the light of dusk. He followed Adrian into the forest and to a river. Adrian stopped at the river bank, panting hard, even though they hadn’t walked very fast, or very far.
Jakob went to sit down. His trousers had barely touched the ground for a second before Adrian pushed his entire body into his lap. Or, he tried, but the wolf was far too big. He settled for putting his head and shoulders on Jakob’s legs. Unbidden, Jakob petted him again, and Adrian gave a big sigh. He breathed roughly for a minute longer, before finally relaxing some. Jakob thought about dinner, and the conversation they must’ve had. It must’ve gotten too much for human-Adrian’s brain. Jakob wondered what being a wolf felt like. He’d ask Adrian when he got the chance. They sat in silence for a while. Jakob listened to the river, and nearby birds, and the wind in the trees. This was a nice forest. It didn’t give him the creeps at all.

Jakob passed the time by telling Adrian the story of the prince and the dragon. He couldn’t make the big arm movements this time, but it was still a fun story to tell. When that story was over, he told Adrian about the bears and the wolves with the unpronounceable names. He rambled on, without thinking, about owls and owls pellets and mouse bones, foxes and lynxes and whatever else he could. He talked about how weird the castle looked, and about the time Sypha froze Trevor to the ground so Jakob could throw bathwater over him.
He told Adrian about the first time they met, how he helped set up their tent because Trevor was tired and whiney, the devil that came out of the woods. He told Adrian about Braila, and the tavern food, their encounters with devils, and how Trevor had taught him what monster parts would sell well. Because he wanted to, and because Adrian looked at him for the next story, and because he finally felt able to talk about it without crying or shaking too much to go on, he told Adrian about the night his family died.
“A long while ago, I think it’s been about two months? I was in the forest with my brother Matthias to get firewood for mama to cook dinner. She was going to make us all stew for the trouble. We’d been slacking off, so we were in the forest when the sun set. We heard screaming and noises coming from the village. The chapel was on fire, in the middle of town. There was this huge hole in the roof of our house, near the village edge and the forest. I made Matthias turn around and go back to the firewood. He was only seven. Big brother that I was, I went to get our parents from the house.” Adrian was looking at him, to show he was listening well.
“Our kitchen was a mess. The table was thrown on its side, and the cabinets were all open or damaged in some way. I went to the bedroom where we all slept. There was my bed, and Matthias’, and mama’s and papa’s big bed. There was this huge red stain on there, but I didn’t know what it was at first. There as this thing next to the bed, and when I saw the devil it scared me so badly I ran and hid behind the kitchen table.” He breathed through the memories for a moment. Adrian remained patient with him.
“But the monster didn’t come eat me, so I went back to look better. Mama’s kitchen knife went through its chest, in one end and out the other. And then I noticed the bits of my mama’s and papa’s hair lying in the bloodstain.” He was shaking a little, but his voice was steady. It felt good, to get it off his chest.
“That thing killed my mama and papa, on their own bed. At least they killed it right back. I was so scared I couldn’t walk right. I remember my knees felt like porridge. I ran back to the forest to get Matthias and get out of there, but when I got to our spot there was only an even bigger bloodstain, and his axe.” He got the axe out of his belt. He fiddled with the handle.
“I couldn’t even think anymore, I just needed to get out. I started running, and when I stopped for a second I was two hours walking away from our house. I couldn’t go back there. So I kept on walking, until I saw a village. The Speakers there fed me breakfast, and gave me a place to sleep. I thought- I thought if I went east far enough, to where the sun comes up, I’d find a place where it’s always day, and I’d be safe from the devils.” He hadn’t found forever daylight, but he’d found warmth.

“The Speakers were going to Braila in the east, so I went with them a while. They met up with Sypha and Trevor by chance, and we met by chance. They asked if I’d like to come with them, to meet a friend in Transylvania, they said. They told me they were strong, and traveling together would be the safest place I could be, and they were right. And here we are.” He sat in silence for a little bit, to think about his next words.
“I don’t know exactly how they hurt you,” he started, “but I know I’ve never seen Sypha cry before we came here. And in the time we’ve been here she’s cried at least twice, with how sorry she is. I know they didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s selfish of me, but I’m glad they went to travel. I would still be a skinny kid roaming the countryside without them. Or I would’ve stayed in some orphanage in Braila forever. It’s much better here.” He patted Adrian’s head. “Even if some wolf insists on dragging me outside in the middle of the night,” he told Adrian fondly, who huffed warm air in his face that smelled of dog and ruffled his hair. After that, he had talked all he could. He laid on the grass and watched the stars.

Hours later Adrian woke him up again, with his hands instead of teeth, when the sunlight streamed through the branches. It shimmered in the water and scattered tiny rainbows on the riverbed. When Jakob had finished stretching the sleep out of his spine, Adrian said “Thank you for last night. You were exactly what I needed. Sorry for dragging you out of bed by your pants.” “Anytime,” replied Jakob, and he meant it. They sat in silence for a moment before Jakob asked “Did you guys talk, last night?” Adrian sighed heavily, but spoke. “Yes, we did. They told me more about why they went away. I-. They thought- They forgot about my feelings, was the gist of it.” He shuddered. “I had to get out of there, and I wanted someone by my side, and there you were. Thank you, again. It seems I keep finding you whenever I don’t know where else to go.” They watched the river go by.
“Hey Adrian? What’s it like being a wolf?” He laughed. “It’s exactly like being human, except my stupid brain shuts up for a second. And things smell better. You smell like soap and tea.” That was nice to know. Better than smelling like a dirty boy. A stray thought fell into Jakob’s head.
“Oh yea, Trevor said your name was Adrian, but also Alucard? What’s that about?” Another heavy sigh.
“They’ve told you about us, right? What we did here?” “Yes, killed Dracula, saved Wallachia, that whole spiel.” Adrian smiled a little at Jakob’s attitude. “Right, so even before I went and actually fought my father, the vampire courts found it amusing to say I was his exact opposite. Smaller, younger, blond, half-human.” He ticked the traits off on his fingers. “I’ve always worn more white than black, so I’m sure we made quite a picture. They took his name and mirrored it. Alucard is what they called me because they refused to acknowledge my human mother and the human name she gave me. I took up the name myself when I joined the fight against my father, to signal my opposition to his intentions to the courts. Now that he’s not around anymore, there’s no need for Alucard to be around either. I’m just Adrian now.”
“Did you like your other name? I could call you Alucard, if you want?” Adrian made a face. “No, I’ve always hated it.”

Chapter Text

The next day Sypha, Trevor and Adrian showed Jakob around the castle, while they made a list of the order to clean it in. According to Adrian, the castle had looked much better, before. They wanted to clean the rubble away, and fix up some walls, at least. Perhaps Adrian would only need a few rooms for his residence and for guest rooms, but he deserved a castle that wasn’t crumbling where it stood. There were more rooms of metal machines and glass vials. The first one they came across was old, but it looked like it had been cosy, once. The rugs were still soft, and there was a smell of herbs in the air.
“My mother and father were people of science,” Adrian explained, “and these were their instruments. Mother learned to heal people. This entire bookcase here,” he pointed to a bookcase filled with hand-written journals, “is full of what she learned.” The room directly next to it had belonged to Dracula himself. It was also full of machines, and the tiled walls made the room look less inviting than Lisa’s. It smelled of cold air, not herbs. Still, he too had collected shelves full of handwritten notes. Sypha was over the moon.
“Imagine the knowledge in here! Of course, there is the library, and the Hold, but this? This was curated by the greatest doctor and scientist of our time!” Huh? “The Hold?” “Oh! Of course, you haven’t even seen the Belmont Hold yet! Our Trevor here is the descendant of a long line of monster hunters, and they collected all the knowledge on evil night creatures they could. Right underneath the castle is their library.” Trevor looked a little proud. “All the way back to the time of Leon Belmont, some four hundred years ago. Belmont is a noble house, you know. Shut it, Adrian.” Trevor had anticipated a snarky remark by Adrian, probably about how he didn’t really look or act like a noble, and nipped it in the bud. Adrian closed his mouth. “Let’s show Jakob the Hold tomorrow, then.” Trevor agreed.
The castle seemed endless. They couldn’t walk through the whole thing, and categorise the clean-up, in a single day. “But hey,” reasoned Trevor, “if a place is so out of the way it’ll take us all day to get there, it probably won’t need any cleaning, right? I mean, we’re not gonna live somewhere that’s an hours’ walk from the kitchen, and it’s out of the way so it probably wasn’t damaged in the fight anyways.” Sypha nodded along, but wanted to know what Adrian thought before deciding not to clean part of the castle. “Trevor is right. The faraway rooms are probably fine, and will probably stay empty. Let’s focus on the areas we use the most.” They agreed, then.
They narrowed it down further by flipping a coin. They’d tackle the hallways and rooms where they had been living, further into the castle, first, and the main hall and its surroundings later. The Belmont Hold wasn’t doing so well either, said Adrian, but since the roof had been fixed and they didn’t live there, it wasn’t a priority yet. “The books are old and fragile but they’re dry and undisturbed. They’ll be fine,” he said.

They started in the sitting room with the couch. They opened all the windows in all the rooms of the hallway. After making sure nothing lightweight was loose, Sypha blasted the room with wind. All the dust, the cobwebs and the old smell left the room when she was done. Trevor and Adrian were in charge of cleaning all the surfaces with soap and water. Adrian put his strength to good use by hauling rubble and wood outside. One time, he lifted a log of wood with Jakob on it. Trevor could follow the sound of their laughter all the way outside and back, while he scraped his jaw off the floor.
They had told Jakob, multiple times, to ‘sit back and take it easy, or so help me God’. Jakob put himself in charge of disposing of dirty water and cloths, and fetching clean ones. He brought them more soap and water, and got a table out to dump miscellaneous items on, to put them where they belonged later. He beat the stubborn dust out of couch cushions and rugs, outside, so he wouldn’t mess up Sypha’s work. When Sypha was done chasing the spiders out of all the rooms and the hallway, she joined Trevor and Adrian by mopping the floors and cleaning the windows. They had cleaned half the rooms in the hallway when they decided to stop. The rooms sparkled, that’s how clean they were.
They hauled themselves to the kitchen table and sat down heavily. Sypha had expended a lot of energy on all her magic. Trevor had a crick in his neck from the weird positions he’d been in to reach corners and such. Adrian had cobwebs in his hair, and his face looked haggard. Jakob was fine, really, just tired from running up and down the stairs all day. Sypha’s stomach growled. “Question,” began Trevor, “now what do we eat?” They didn’t know. They were too tired to cook. Adrian rummaged through the pantry and cellar. He found the last rolls of bread, dried meat and fish, and some raw fruit and vegetables. They’d deal. Jakob rather liked raw carrots, actually.

The next day they tackled the other half of the rooms, but they paced themselves better. Trevor was in charge of the mopping this time around, to avoid aggravating his neck and shoulders more. Sypha took over his position by dusting off the shelves, mantles, paintings, and everything else, really. Adrian supported them by lifting up couches so Trevor could get the grime underneath, or repositioning a bookcase. One time, Adrian lifted a two-person bed with one arm, the show-off. Trevor’s eyes had nearly bugged clean out of his eye sockets.
Jakob helped get fresh water and cloths again, while Adrian made lunch and dinner. They were tired again that evening, but their strategy had worked. Trevor’s neck felt better, and they had eaten proper lunch and dinner. Adrian had even taken care of the bread supply by baking more. Things were looking good.

They rested the third day, choosing to hang out at the river and laze about. Jakob didn’t really feel like swimming, since autumn was in full swing, but Adrian fished up dinner with his bare hands and reflexes, uncaring about the temperature, or the see-through state of his white blouse. It made some scars on his back and chest stand out, but since Adrian didn’t seem to care, Jakob pretended not to see. He decided that evening that fresh river fish were his very favourite meal.

Up next was the lower hallway, with the kitchen and such. When they gathered in the kitchen that morning, Adrian looked paler than usual. Trevor and Sypha seemed a little worried too, but they wouldn’t say what was going on. This hallway went a lot quicker, because there were far less rooms to take care of. For some reason, nobody opened the room with the bloody sheets, and Jakob didn’t try either.
They had fallen into a routine. Sometimes, the work was actually kind of fun. It was satisfying to beat the living daylights out of a rug, or to dump out the brownish water. They scrubbed the bloody footprints out of the carpet. Even the kitchen and the storage rooms were given a once-over, both to clean them and to check their supplies. Today went a lot easier for Jakob, because he didn’t have to walk so far to get water.
It was after noon that the closed bedroom was the only one left. No-one looked ready to go and open it. Adrian had only gotten paler as the day went on, and now he looked downright sickly. Trevor and Sypha looked uncomfortable, too. Jakob didn’t want to see the bloody sheets. They would only remind him of his parent’s bed, and Matthias on the forest floor. Sypha made the connection too, and told him not to join them in cleaning this room. “This is not something pleasant to see, let alone for someone your age. Go back to the kitchen, or the sitting room, and rest for a while. Adrian?” He looked at her, like he’d been snapped out of his thoughts. “You could join Jakob? Trevor and I can handle this one.” Adrian tried to smile in a reassuring way. “Thank you Sypha, but I feel like I have to do this today, or I’ll never get to it.” The room was probably important to Adrian. He was fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves.
“I’ll go and prepare lunch. I think I’ll be done in an hour, maybe a little less? So when you’re done you can come eat in the kitchen,” Jakob said. Trevor ruffled his hair. “Thanks, buddy. We’ll leave the food to you, then. Adrian? Would you do the honours? We’ll go at your pace.” Adrian hesitated, looked at Jakob meaningfully. He didn’t want him to see the room. Was Adrian protecting him, or was he ashamed of it? Jakob went.

Chapter Text

The room was a mess, as expected. The smell threatened to overwhelm him, but Trevor’s hand on his back steadied him. He snapped out of his memories for long enough to think rationally.

“Let’s burn the mattress. And the canopy, and the rug, the pillows, and literally everything else.” Sypha looked a little worried, and he wondered if he was being hasty. “I’ve taken up temporary residence in a guest room, and I think I’ll select a new bedchamber upstairs. I-“ he sighed, weighed it over, and decided. “I don’t wish to set foot here anymore, if I can help it.” Trevor nodded in understanding, and set about hauling anything blood-stained and made of fabric outside. The silver ropes were ruined, he said. “Cut to ribbons, so to speak. Not that I give a shit about some knick-knack my great granddad dragged out of some shithole God-knows-where. Good riddance, really.” He was probably trying, in his way, to reassure Adrian. “The Hold needed a good decluttering anyhow.”

Sypha and Adrian wiped the blood off the windows and walls, and whatever bit of floor hadn’t been covered with carpet. Trevor wiped down the bedframe with a grim set to his jaw.
The blood had long since dried out and hardened into a stubborn beast. Adrian had to take a break and stand in the hallway when he focused on the sight of it under his overlong nails.
With time and elbow grease, the windows cleared, allowing the sunlight to chase out the ghosts that flickered at the edge of Adrian’s vision. Distantly he was aware somebody was calling for him.

“-drian. Adrian?” His gaze snapped to Trevor, who had raised his hand halfway to his shoulder, to shake Adrian out of it. “We’re done here.” Trevor’s tone bore no argument, even though he knew there was probably some spot of grout they hadn’t cleaned yet, or a streak of blood between the floorboards. It was enough. It was good. Adrian nodded, and Sypha tugged him into the hallway gently. She turned and looked at him, searching his face for something Adrian couldn’t guess at. He looked steadily back at her, tired and wrung out, but lighter all the same.
She appeared satisfied. She wound her arms around his neck and held him tight. The nerve endings in his body sang, much like the very first time she hugged him the night they’d returned, but this time the warmth made him feel safe, instead of overwhelmed. He held her back gently, careful not to use too much force. He sagged against her, the ever-present tension in his body uncoiling somewhat. After a moment, all too soon and far too late, she untangled herself, and led the way to the kitchen.

As Jakob had predicted, lunch took about an hour. Well, only because Jakob started a little late, but no one had to know. He made toasted bread and vegetable soup. To pass time, he even made his own jam, out of forest berries in the pantry. Man, sugar. Just the best.
While he was cooking, he barely saw anybody. Sypha came to get clean water once, and Trevor made a few trips with bloody sheets and a mattress. The smell of smoke carried into the kitchen behind him when he came back inside.
Food done and warm, he didn’t wait for anybody else and tucked in. He was just licking the jam off his fingers when Sypha, Trevor and Adrian walked in, in that order.
They looked horrible. Sypha had smears and smudges of brownish and reddish colours on her face and arms. Trevor had carried the bedsheets and mattress outside and burned them, and he’d gotten soot in his hair for the trouble. Adrian looked a bone-deep kind of tired. His eyes were red, but he hadn’t been outside in the smoke. Jakob decided not to ask any questions, and just dished out their portions of soup and bread.

Sypha smiled at him, tired but grateful. Trevor ruffled his hair again. Jakob worried his hair would stand straight up if he kept doing that. Adrian didn’t look up from the table, but ate.
With the food finished, the kitchen fell silent. “Trevor?” He looked at Sypha. “We should wash ourselves. I feel filthy, and I’m willing to bet I don’t look much better.” Trevor groaned. “But Sypha,” he whined, “I’d have to get up off my seat, and walk all the way to the bathroom to bathe. Can’t I sleep here and bathe tomorrow? I promise I’ll be extra thorough.” He laid his head on the table as he said it. Jakob saw his chance and ruffled his hair, too, before he thought about it. His hand came back blackened. Trevor laughed at his face.
Sypha tried again. “Adrian? You should rest. Take a bath, head to bed. We’ll take care of ourselves.” Adrian thought about it. “I’d honestly rather join Trevor and sleep here.” Trevor was still laying on the table, so his voice sounded oddly muffled. “Do vampires get backaches? Because I’m willing to bet you’ll get one.” Trevor straightened with comically exaggerated effort. He jabbed a finger in Sypha’s general direction, without looking at her. “Fine, but we take the rest of today and tomorrow off. If I have to look at another cleaning cloth I think I’ll just burn it.” Sypha chuckled. “Deal.”

Sypha and Trevor disappeared into the bathroom down the hallway while Jakob settled in the library again. Adrian had to go to another part of the castle to pick up some clothing, and he mumbled he’d find a bathroom while he was at it. Jakob wondered at the architecture of the castle while he thumbed through some books to pass the time. He had remembered to wash his hands, so he didn’t leave ashy fingerprints everywhere he went. Somewhere along the way he’d spread out and relaxed on the couch, and between one page and the next, he fell asleep.

He washed his hair, taking care to let the conditioner sit and work its magic, in an attempt to improve what months of neglect had done to his blond split ends. He also worked at the skin under his nails a little harder than may have been necessary. The clothing he’d dug out of a closet for himself was standard fare; a soft white blouse with a low neckline and long sleeves, and pants made of black leather that creaked a little when he walked. He forewent shoes, and walked a hallway that got gradually less dusty as he approached the kitchen on his socks.
There was nobody else there. He’d seen Jakob asleep in the library, in a position that would almost certainly gift him a nasty crick in his neck, but the child looked too exhausted for Adrian to consider waking him.
He’d walked past the bathroom Sypha and Trevor had entered, and had judged by the lights and the closed door that they weren’t done yet. He hadn’t seen or heard anything but running water, and yet when he sat in the quiet kitchen, waiting for water to boil, he had to put effort into quieting his mind. It kept trying to supply his imagination with.. pictures. Yet again, there was a mood in his belly he did not recognise or appreciate. He was grateful for the whistle of the kettle breaking him out of his train of thought. Something about droplets down shirts and dresses.

He startled when Trevor entered the kitchen, followed closely by Sypha. They had dried their hair properly this time, and he thought he might have been grateful. Trevor’s hair still stuck straight up again, and he couldn’t stifle his laughter quick enough. “Yeah, yeah, I’m aware. Make me some tea, if you’re gonna keep laughing at my expense.” Trevor sat down at his usual spot, and looked at Adrian expectantly. He got up as Sypha sat down, asking, “Tea, Madam Speaker?” Sypha nodded, so he poured water for six people, in case someone wanted more.
Sypha wore a black shirt with short sleeves, which bared the scar she’d received in the fight with Dracula. She had a Speaker-blue skirt on, which seemed impossibly bright in the small kitchen.

Trevor wore a slightly ratty-looking brown tunic and simple white pants. Adrian eyed it with exaggerated disdain. “Where did you even find a piece of clothing this old? Are the moth holes decorative?” Sypha laughed at Trevor’s expense. “Please, this
tunic is by far the youngest piece of clothing in this entire spirits-forsaken castle, and you know it. Where did your blouse crawl out of, the twelve hundreds?” Adrian chuckled at the mischievous look in Trevor’s eye. “Gentlemen, please. You both look quite pretty.” Sypha’s comment snipped whatever Trevor had opened his mouth to say in the bud. “Now, I’m quite sure the water’s boiling. Sir Belmont, would you do the honours?” Trevor gave her a small kiss before he rose and poured two more cups of hot water before the whistle sounded.
The little demon in charge of drafting the schedule for Adrian’s train of thought zeroed in on the kiss, practically chaste as it was, and the feeling of the word ‘pretty’. “All aboard,” it went, and Adrian’s thoughts spiralled somewhere beyond his control. There had been space for him, between Sumi and Taka, because they were siblings and because they had precisely calculated it to be so. Was there space for him, here, and would he survive squeezing himself into it?
The soft thud of Sypha’s mug as Trevor put it on the table derailed him, mercifully.

Sypha caught Trevor’s eye as he sat. Some silent conversation took place between them, in nothing more than the stare they shared, and a twitch of Sypha’s eyebrow. Trevor sighed and grumbled good-naturedly. “Fine, but you’re warming your own feet tonight.” He turned towards Adrian, suddenly serious. Adrian straightened in his seat under Trevor’s gaze. “Adrian,” he began, “we wanted to ask you something. Instead of just barging in and overstaying our welcome, I mean. Adrian, could we-“ he hesitated, “could we stay in the castle with you?” The question left Adrian a little breathless. There were implications here, that he needed to iron out before he got ahead of himself. “How long, Belmont?” Trevor looked at Sypha questioningly, aware the conversation was approaching the extent of his social grace for the month. “For as long as you’ll have us,” Sypha took over. Trevor nodded in agreement. They looked at Adrian expectantly, although they tried not to show it too much. Adrian breathed carefully, to keep himself composed.
The last week or two had been the best days of his life since his only friends left. The knowledge that those days could simply continue, without an ugly tinge of anxiety or worry, was something sublime. The decision was easily made.
“I would like that very much.” He did not hide his relief at their extended stay. He had long since laid out his deepest embarrassments. An emotion like relief need not hide itself anymore.
At his agreement, Trevor sagged in his seat. Sypha, too, relaxed a little. “Thank the fucking stars. You had me on the edge of my seat there, Fahrenheit.” Sypha chuckled. “Hush, you, before he kicks you out.” Adrian played along. “Oh yes, your best behaviour, Belmont. The Hold is cold this time of year.” Trevor rolled his eyes, but he sat a little straighter.

Chapter fourteen: Epilogue.

For a little while, time blurred together a bit.

This was in part because Jakob really settled in to life at the castle, but mostly because his friends were finally happy, and he could stop worrying about them all the time. As Sypha had promised, they made up properly, and they told him this. “We asked his permission to stay at the castle, for as long as he wanted.” She looked thoughtful as they sat at the riverbank. “You should have seen the relief in his eyes. I swear his entire body went limp.” Jakob was glad. “I love living here. It’s good that we can all be happy and stay here.” He thought it over for a second, while Sypha looked patiently at him. “I’ll never find another place like my home, or find other people like my mama and papa. But I think I can be happy anyways.” Sypha ruffled his hair. “I’m glad to hear it, love.”

Chapter Text

There was a simple fact that Trevor had yet to admit to himself;
He was in over his head.

He had been orphaned at twelve, watched his childhood home go up in flames while he heard his family pray, beg and cry. The stink of smoke and burnt flesh had not left his nose for days.
Trevor had weathered any abuses townspeople could fling his way. The general populace didn’t specifically hate him, Trevor Belmont, but they hated what the Belmont name had stood for. The Belmonts were supposed to triumph over evil, and yet there he was, excommunicated, drunk, and very much not triumphing over Dracula any time soon. Besides, the church had done its very best work, trying to convince the people that the Belmonts were secretly making pacts and dealing with the very evil they supposedly fought. Those who didn’t believe Belmonts were supposed to have protected them, believed they were in cahoots with Dracula before they burned. With his entire family dead and unable to defend themselves, Trevor wasn’t exactly a convincing counterargument.

Then, of course, things had changed. He had a friend, and a lover, who stood by him and held him up when he wasn’t able to do so himself. He travelled the countryside not because he had no place to go home to, but because he wanted to. He helped people not because he held the vain hope that he might save his family legacy, one flying demon goat at a time, but because it was right. The people heard his name, saw his family crest, and they respected him for it.
And then there was Lindenfield. A little glimpse at the life before Dracula’s death. The bitter taste of defeat floating in his ale, the smell of disappointment in his clothes. He and Sypha had fought harder than ever, only to fail to prevent the enormous casualties, and to fail to separate friend from child-murdering self-aggrandising cockwart. They left behind a broken village, ruined and smoldering.
He’d kind of expected harpies or boogeymen or demon goats, so bitterly nostalgic was the feeling. Instead, they’d picked up a teenager. Good lad. Adorable, really, and far too sad for his age. Made Trevor want to pinch his cheeks until he smiled.

Speaking of people entirely too sad to be healthy, Adrian was looking better every day.
Trevor’s and Sypha’s indefinitely extended stay at the Castle seemed to have lifted a physical weight off his shoulders. He stood a little straighter with every room they cleaned, every hole they patched up. The Hold got a good spring cleaning. They sorted out the books that lay strewn in the dusty corners, righted upended artefacts and bookcases.
They buried any skulls and bones they found. The vampire skulls were the first to go, laid reverently in a deep hole as the last rays of sunlight cast a rusty reddish glow over the clearing. Jakob had found some white flowers in the forest, and he offered them on top of the disturbed soil. Adrian needed the night for himself, to recover, he’d said.

Next there were werewolf bones, selkie teeth, demon’s nails and kappa fins. There were bundles of hair that supposedly belonged to thousand year-old witches, and feathers of harpies and eyes of forest spirits. Those were buried, each their own little space in their impromptu cemetery. They received anonymous offerings of flowers, berries and autumn leaves, even the demons. Trevor pretended not to notice Jakob’s red-rimmed eyes.

They carved out a thing resembling peace, in the restored and newly cosy rooms in the wing of the castle they all occupied. Jakob picked out his own bedroom, a little ways from the staircase, marvelling at the luxury of owning an entire room by himself, even as he stood in an architecturally impossible castle. Adrian, too, picked himself a room to use. Not a guestroom he happened to claim for a while, but a space to call his own again. Trevor and Sypha relocated a little further down the hall, on the opposite side of the staircase.
They cooked, they ate, they read and they played, and when Jakob wasn’t in the room, they did not comment on the thickening tension. These days, Trevor carried a feeling of waiting for the other shoe to finally drop. He had a nervous feeling in his gut, and it intensified when he watched Sypha gush excitedly over an ancient text with Adrian, when he entered the kitchen to Adrian humming a tune, pitch perfect and a smear of flour on his cheek. Jakob, Adrian and Sypha piled together to read and fell asleep, early evening sunlight falling on their hair and cheeks. Trevor asked himself whether he was watching the light play with red hair, or with blond, and he found he had no answer.

Until the answer became very suddenly, very clear.

He was sat in the kitchen, idly oiling his whip at the table, watching with half an eye as Sypha and Adrian cooked dinner. Sypha knocked something over, a pitcher of water or a bowl of flour, and suddenly they were fighting. Sypha, in an effort to play fair, did not immediately drench Adrian in a summoned bubble of water the size of a bathtub. She only threw water from the sink, or pieces of bread, or an apple. Adrian had no such qualms, and with vampiric speed, peppered her with flour and water, sticky dough clumping in her hair, caught the apple, may have taken a bite before he threw it back.
It was as Trevor watched them, affectionate and light and so precious it made his hands itch, that he realised was watching them both.

Oh.
What was a man to do, when confronted with his feelings? He ran, of course. He was Trevor goddamn Belmont, a man of action. Feelings, not so much.

He might have mumbled something about finding a tree to piss against, but he might have walked too fast to be natural. He stumbled over the clearing in a daze, kept walking until the toes of his boots met the edge of the river.
Of course he knew love, he reasoned to himself as he sat down heavily. He loved Sypha, with all his heart. But as far as he was aware, he only had a single one.
Falling in love with Sypha had been a slow thing. They, though perhaps she was only being considerate of him, refused to name it love until the fifth time they’d shared a bed. She did not pressure him for affection he could not give, and he found he had a little more to give with every sunrise, until he grasped his confidence by the balls and grew a backbone.
This, with Adrian, was sudden. Too sudden. Bubbling, perhaps, since before the fight with Dracula. The actual boiling over of the kettle, the stealing glances, the anticipatory pit in his stomach, that had taken perhaps a month. Trevor did not know how to deal with this. In his defence, Sypha was probably the only healthy romantic relationship in his life.

“God, shit, dinner,” he mumbled to himself. He had the urge to tug on his hair until his scalp lifted off his skull, but in a show of immense self-restraint, he did not. A guy like him, 'ruggedly handsome' as Sypha liked to describe him, couldn’t make a bald patch work.
“Trevor?” Well, speak of the devil. Sypha made sure her steps were loud as the moved through the brush, clearly announcing her presence. “Hey,” he said when she stood next to him. “What a night, huh?” They both watched the sun wink at them as it barely sunk below the treeline.

Sypha lifted her brows as she looked at him. She’d fished the clumps of dough out of her hair, and cleaned her face, but there was still flower and oil on her clothing. Then she did that thing, where she was silent and she didn’t move except for her face, to pull a vaguely disapproving expression, and waited with the patience of the devil until Trevor broke. He did, of course. He always did. “What do I do, Sypha?” Never mind that he hadn’t said a word to explain why he stormed out of the kitchen, he needed to hear her tell him everything was going to be all right, and he would believe it. She sighed.
“You come back inside, you have dinner because you look like you need it, and then you talk to Adrien and me instead of avoiding whatever stray thought materialised in your head before you ran like a baby.” She crossed her arms, daring him to disagree with a word she’d said. Trevor hung his head and sulked, aware he’d lost the battle. “Adrien got to play wolf-boy and run into the woods.” He sounded petulant, even to his own ears. “Adrien was worse off than you and you know it. Come on, big boy, off to the kitchen with you.” She helped him up and held his hand as they walked back, the perfect blending of tough love and gentle kindness exactly what Trevor had needed.

Sypha had to physically pull Trevor into the kitchen, and Adrian watched him pretend everything was fine. For some reason, Trevor’d walked out of the kitchen like something was nipping at his heels. Adrian had shared a look with Sypha that said you deal with this, while also saying, because I haven’t the faintest idea how. She’d nodded, washed her face, and marched outside.
Adrian just made sure dinner didn’t burn while he kept it warm, that Jakob was served and bundled comfortably on a couch upstairs, and that the table was set for three.

Trevor didn’t speak as they ate, steadfastly ignoring the conversation Adrian and Sypha kept up. Adrian prattled on about magic runes, but his heart wasn’t in it. They ate, and they put their dishes on the counter for later. Trevor sat down next to Sypha like a man waiting for his execution. Which, considering they were going to talk about feelings and emotions with Trevor fucking Belmont, it might as well have been.
Adrian dragged Jakob’s empty chair in front of the door into the hallway, propping it against the doorknob to keep it closed. He locked the door to the garden with an audible click. He sat down, ignored Sypha’s shaking shoulders, and looked at Trevor. “So?” “So you’re a prick,” said Trevor. It had none if the usual bite to it. Sypha was actually laughing now, even as she held a hand to her lips to stifle it. Trevor’s eyes were oddly soft as he looked at her. When she finished gathering herself, she held Trevor’s hand. “Trevor, love, we promised Jakob. What bit your ass, hmm?” Trevor groaned as he looked at her. His eyebrows were upturned in an expression of pain, as if talking about things physically hurt him. Trevor did not break eye contact with Sypha, as they waited for him to talk. He opened his mouth, made a small, helpless sort of noise, closed it. He was white as a sheet. He licked his lips, tried again.

“Is it possible to love two people at once?” he asked the quiet kitchen. There was a beat of silence, then another, as Adrian and Sypha rushed to process what he’d said. “You mean.. having friends?” she tried.
Trevor rolled his eyes and chuckled dryly. “No, Sypha. Love. Two. I- at the same time. Promise you won’t be mad?” He’d started his sentence with a wry tone, ended up in something pleading. Trevor kept looking at Sypha, but he glanced quickly at Adrian and-

Oh.
Adrian gripped the table so hard it splintered, just to stay seated. He didn’t know if he felt like running from Trevor’s feelings, or his own.

“Oh, Trevor,” said Sypha. She sounded so gentle and sweet. She sounded in love. “Is that something you want?” Trevor gaped at her. “Something I-. I-. Could I even-“ Sypha interrupted what surely would have become a spiral into panic with a soft kiss. “Yes, Trevor, you can.” She smiled gently at him. He looked shell-shocked, and yet very relieved. Then she looked at Adrian.

He swallowed. He might have been making a deer-in-the-torchlight expression, but he could really only guess as to what his face looked like. “Is that something you want?” she repeated her question. Trevor finally dragged his eyes away from Sypha to stare at Adrian instead. He looked.. Vulnerable was the only word Adrian had. Anticipatory, perhaps. He looked like a man who was in a position to have everything he'd ever wanted, and Adrian was feeling the pressure.
He had to repeat in his head that they were not Sumi and Taka. That they would not leave the space between them in a calculated, premeditated manner, but rather as invitation. “Adrian,” Trevor softly interrupted his increasingly panicked thoughts. Adrian had to focus, just to look Trevor in the eye. Trevor looked defeated now, rather than cautiously optimistic. “I’m sorry,” he said, and it took a moment for the words to register in his brain. “Forget I said anything. I’d rather have you as a friend, than to not have you at all.” Adrian panicked, grabbed Trevor’s hand to make him stop talking. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean-. I need time, Belmont.” At his words, Trevor brightened so much he could have lit the room at midnight. He nodded his head. “Anything you need," he said, with the confidence befitting a Belmont. Trevor said anything, and Adrian knew he meant it.

Sypha chuckled, ruffled Trevor’s hair. “Good for you, love.” Trevor looked at her like he still couldn’t quite believe his luck. “I wonder what having two boyfriends would be like”

They sat for a while, in a loaded but companionable silence.

Chapter Text

“Oh, Trevor,” said Sypha. She sounded so gentle and sweet. She sounded in love. “Is that something you want?” Trevor gaped at her. “Something I-. I-. Could I even-“ Sypha interrupted what surely would have become a spiral into panic with a soft kiss. “Yes, Trevor, you can.” She smiled gently at him. He felt shell-shocked, and yet very relieved. Then she looked at Adrian.
Adrian swallowed. He looked a bit like a deer-in-the-torchlight. “Is that something you want?” she repeated her question. Trevor finally dragged his eyes away from Sypha to stare at Adrian instead. Trevor did not dare hope, only prayed he hadn’t ruined everything.
That prayer turned increasingly desperate, as Adrian did not respond. He looked like he was tying himself into knots. Trevor cursed, long and loud, in the privacy of his own head. He kicked himself for throwing this all out too damn early, while Adrian was still all too fragile. Selfish bastard, he was. Always had been.
He had to do something, so he said, “Adrian.” Adrian looked at him with an effort. “I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. I’d rather have you as a friend, than to not have you at all.” Adrian looked stricken as he grabbed Trevor’s hand. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean-. I need time, Belmont.” At his words, Trevor felt so relieved, it was like a physical weight off his shoulders. He nodded his head. “Anything.”
Sypha smiled, ruffled Trevor’s hair. “Good for you, love.” Trevor looked at her, and he still couldn’t quite believe his luck. That she’d understand, that she’d agree, that she’d want the same thing as he. “I wonder what having two boyfriends would be like.” He chuckled at that, and she smiled.
They sat for a while, in a loaded but companionable silence.

Sypha went to tuck Jakob into bed for the night, and Adrian left for his room. Trevor followed his example and went to the room he and Sypha shared. He lit a candle or two and threw his boots somehwere in a corner. As he thought over their conversation, he fell into bed and did not move again. The pressure of his face into the sheets was rather nice, actually. He heard Sypha enter, but did not stir as she shucked off her boots and sank onto the mattress with a sigh. She’d foregone her skirt and wore her leggings instead. She stroked his hair and asked, “You all right?” He did not have to think it over. “Barely.” His voice was rough, and muffled. “Sometimes I’m glad he staked the bastards.” Sypha sighed in a disapproving way, but she did not argue with him. She tucked her feet under her knees.
“Me too,” she said after a moment. Her voice was a little cold with anger. The bastards were lucky to be dead already, or else they would’ve been alive for Sypha to get her hands on them. “He deserves the world, you know. He never deserved them.” “I know,” Trevor agreed.

There was a knock on the door, which made Trevor’s heart stutter. Jakob wouldn’t knock like that, and there was only one other person in the castle. “Come on in,” he called. He pushed himself into an upright sitting position, and turned towards the door.
Adrian opened the door only a sliver, making the light of the hallway spill into the dimly lit room. He looked haloed by it, his blond hair reflecting the light delicately. Adrian’s eyes were a little too big for his blank expression to be truthful. “I was wondering- I thought. Could I-“ Trevor’s brain was still trying to catch up to the sight he made, so he was glad when Sypha answered in his stead the question Adrian hadn’t asked. She opened her arms invitingly.

“Come here,” she said, softly, as if Adrian were a skittish thing, and perhaps he was. He looked overwhelmed and hopeful all at once, as he closed the door and made his way to Sypha’s half of the bed. He hesitated for a moment, looking at Sypha’s still opened arms and Trevor’s face for confirmation. Sypha shuffled on the bed until her back leaned against the headboard and a hoard of cushions, and patted the space next to her. Trevor quickly mirrored her, to make sure the Dhampir would get no false ideas about imposing.
He climbed the bed gingerly and set himself between them. Their shoulders touched, and there was the ghost of warmth near Trevor’s hip from how close they sat. Sypha leaned her head on Adrian’s admittedly slightly bony shoulder, and that was that. The poor bastard couldn’t possibly escape her now.

Trevor laid his head on Adrian’s shoulder as well, because it seemed like the right thing to do, and because it was easier than to try and put their current mood into words. “I’m glad you’re here,” he attempted anyways. Adrian’s breaths came out slightly shaky, and he held himself stiff with composure. He relaxed slightly when Sypha took his hand and laced their fingers together.
With time, with every exhale, the frantic rigidity of Adrian’s body receded. Slowly, tick by tick, he went boneless under the combined weight of their heads. He leaned back fully on the headboard, peaceful at last. Sypha played with a strand of his hair, and Trevor rested his hand on his thigh. He petted the soft leather, and allowed the ridges and textures take his mind off his thoughts.
Sypha broke the companionable silence after a little while. “Come here,” she repeated. She opened her arms and parted her legs, and looked expectantly at Adrian. Trevor pre-emptively lifted his head and took back his hand, while Adrian went a little stiff again. Adrian was nervous, but Sypha was patient. This was the same Sypha who’d needle Trevor into hauling his ass out of bed and to the nearest source of water, after all.

He rested his back on Sypha’s chest and laid his head on her shoulder. She responded by wrapping her arms around his torso and squeezing, with a triumphant expression on her face. She rested her head on Adrian’s shoulder in turn, and Trevor had to remind himself to breathe. The sight of them languidly tangled in each other made him thankful he had two working eyes.
He positioned himself next to Sypha and worked out the angle, until he could essentially put his head on Adrian’s forehead. It might have been a little awkward, if he wasn’t so utterly at peace.
In contrast to Trevor’s and Sypha’s calm, Adrian was more than a little nervous. When Trevor moved to put down his head, for a breathless moment Adrian had thought he might-. And that raised the question of whether he’d allow it; whether he’d welcome it; whether he’d want to-. Better not to think about that too much, and to relax into Sypha’s steady hold instead. Her breaths fanned over his neck and shoulder, which was a little ticklish. Trevor was moving his hand in circles on his thigh again, and the feeling was nice, if overshadowed by the sheer force of the want that accompanied it. Adrian refused to poke that particular bear, for fear he’d unravel some kind of knot inside himself and he’d have to bolt out of the room.

“Trevor,” Sypha broke the silence again. He lifted his head to look at her, to find she had her lips pulled down in an exaggerated pout, her eyebrows turned up beseechingly. Trevor couldn’t help but chuckle, because she pulled that face whenever she deemed he’d paid her too little attention. “Coming, Madam Speaker.” He walked on his knees between Adrian’s legs without thinking. He leaned over Adrian to plant a kiss on Sypha’s lips. She held them in her pout until he acquiesced and cupped the back of her head with his hand. He didn’t deepen their kiss exactly, aware of their audience, and only nibbled on her bottom lip a little. She looked mighty satisfied with herself anyways, when he pulled back to sit on his haunches.
He couldn’t help but quickly glance at Adrian. He felt a little surprised, and quite satisfied himself, when Adrian looked nothing but interested. His eyes were wide as he looked back at Trevor. Trevor looked back at Sypha for confirmation, who still had a very pleased expression. He locked eyes with Adrian, and lifted his eyebrows slightly in question. Adrian did not react to this, so perhaps he hadn’t understood. In a clearer sign of his intent, Trevor leaned forward a fraction, while he held eye contact with Adrian, who promptly sucked in a breath, but did not turn away.

Trevor continued his excruciatingly slow approach, all the while on the lookout for the slightest sign of distaste or aversion. He found only nervousness and anticipation. He hovered with his face a breath away from Adrian’s. “May I?” Adrian nodded slightly, and Trevor leaned down the last fraction to connect their lips.
Kissing Adrian was nothing like kissing Sypha, who did not generally include the word ‘shy’ in her dictionary. Trevor put every ounce of his self-control into paying attention, instead of sinking into the kiss as the rest of his body demanded. He could not resist cupping Adrian’s chin with two fingers, and was rewarded with a little shiver through Adrian’s body. Adrian did not pull away, or push him, or anything of the sort. Adrian did breathe quicker, and when Trevor leaned back a little, he could feast his eyes on the blush that had spread over Adrian’s cheeks. When he glanced over, Sypha looked like a cat and her lifetime supply of cream. He smiled, and gave her a little peck. A little vixen, she was.

He thought Adrian rather deserved a break, so he leaned down to put his head in the crook of Adrian’s neck, instead of kissing him more. Sypha apparently thought the opposite, because she nuzzled her side of Adrian’s neck and asked, “May I?” Trevor felt the minute nod Adrian gave, and the shiver that followed when Sypha pressed a kiss to his neck. She gave a series of small pecks, and with each one Adrian’s breathing got a little rougher. “Adrian?” Trevor breathed over his ear, his voice a tad rough. Adrian nodded, a little surer now, and Trevor set to work.
He pressed a kiss to Adrian’s earlobe, and took the top of his ear between his lips. He barely dragged the tip of his tongue over the cartilage there, and Adrian made an involuntary little noise. Save for Adrian’s roughened breathing, Trevor could’ve heard a pin drop in the room, so he did not miss the noise, and instead committed it to memory. Sypha paused kissing Adrian’s neck for long enough to nibble the point where neck met shoulder. She didn’t even bite, really, merely pressed her teeth there, and Adrian made a small sound that went like 'mmh', that might’ve been a moan for a person less tightly strung.

Adrian’s head was spinning with the pleasure and the conflicting feelings. A scared bit of his brain wanted nothing more than to extract himself from their embrace and forget about any of it, because he felt vulnerable and vulnerable was dangerous. He felt at home between them, felt desired not for some ulterior motive, but simply because they desired him. They moved at his pace, careful of him, and part of him wished they wouldn’t treat him like spun glass. Rationally, however, he could recognise that only a tad less gentle would certainly overwhelm him, and he had never been more grateful they understood him so well.
Trevor leaned back and Sypha paused. The air touched the parts of him that were wet with their saliva, the cold a sort of pleasure, too. He did not know what Trevor saw when he looked at him, but he approved of whatever it was. He cracked a small grin, swore under his breath. He came closer to Sypha and kissed her, and Adrian could not tear his eyes away. She was supple and bold; his stubble contrasted her orange hair. They made an exquisite pair. Sypha deepened their kiss, and Trevor held her chin as he’d done to Adrian earlier. They were familiar with each other, not so afraid of breaking the other by accident. Adrian had wanted nothing more in his life.

He could not look away from Sypha’s lips when she parted with Trevor’s, a little glossy and reddened. She noticed when she looked at him, and she smiled a little, confident. She came closer to him, and he inclined his head towards her, inviting her as best he could. When she kissed him, he could hear Trevor suck in a ragged breath behind him, but he could not pay attention to it. She touched her tongue to his lips and he parted them after a moment’s deliberation.
She was experienced, and he had never kissed anyone like this in his life. He was very glad it was she he was kissing, gentle with him as she was. She moved her tongue over his, and he copied her, soon lost in the feeling of it rather than the motion.

Trevor was losing his goddamn mind, but silently. Probably. The kiss Sypha and Adrian shared looked artistic in its beauty, and so debauched Trevor’s blood felt heavy and due south. He covered his dumb mouth with one hand, to stop himself from swearing or saying something stupid and breaking the moment. Adrian’s pretty blush was spreading gradually down his neck, and Sypha’s pupils were blown wide when she parted. She looked ravished, and Adrian looked no better.
Adrian laughed a little when he saw the state Trevor was in. He was probably biting his fingers. The laughter quickly became a shaky exhale when Adrian’s gaze travelled downwards, where Trevor was predictably, visibly, aroused. Adrian didn’t immediately look somewhere else, but he did eventually drag his gaze to some far off point in the room. Perhaps Adrian’s leather pants were looking a little tight, but Trevor mercifully refrained from teasing him about it. This time.

Sypha forced her brain to catch up when Adrian kept up his staring contest with the bedsheets. She softly squeezed a hand around one of his arms. “Adrian?” she asked. “Are you all right?” There was a moment’s silence before Adrian answered. “Yes. Yes I-. I’m fine.” He sighed a little, and relaxed against her. “It’s a lot, but it’s good.” “Glad to hear it,” she said. “What do you want to do, Adrian?” She waited patiently while Adrian wrangled his brain into producing a coherent thought or two.

When the silence persisted, she suggested, “Do you want to take your pants off?” They were looking a little tight, actually. Adrian did not have to think before he shook his head. “All right.” She grinned at her next mischievous idea, and continued. “Do you want to take Trevor’s pants off?” The effect was immediate, as intended; Trevor snapped to attention and tried very hard not to look as desperate as he felt.
She watched as Adrian mulled it over. Instead of answering, he reached his hands towards Trevor’s trousers. All three pairs of eyes in the room zeroed in on Arian’s lithe fingers on the buttons of Trevor’s pants. There were three soft pops in the room, and Adrian pulled the trousers over Trevor’s hips. Trevor actually had to sit back to take his pants off properly himself, but that was not very important. He’d only just sat down in his previous position when Trevor fumbled with the edge of his underwear. “Should I-?” “Yes,” came Sypha’s immediate answer. That meant that Trevor actually had to sit back again to shuck off his underwear, but nobody cared.
Not when Trevor’s dick pointed straight at his navel. Two pairs of eyes zeroed in on the weeping head, while Trevor savoured the hungry look on Sypha’s face. Who, bold as ever, reached out and stroked Trevor a little, and he could not help but groan at the sensation. “Do you want to?” she asked Adrian. “You don’t have to,” she added, careful not to pressure him. “I want to,” he said, surprising her.

Trevor tried and failed to stop the swearwords that passed his lips. “Oh, fuck, your hands are colder than a banshee’s tit,” he said. Adrian immediately pulled his hand away while muttering apologies, which was a shame, because Trevor had been enjoying the expression on his face. He rushed to stop Adrian from apologising so much. “No, no stop saying you’re sorry. I wasn’t expecting it, is all. I promise you’re fine.” Adrian did not look convinced, and did not put his hands back on Trevor’s dick. “I swear, I’ll beg you to touch me if I have to,” he said. “He really will,” Sypha agreed, “he’s not above it.” Trevor filed Adrian’s subsequent expression away for later, because Adrian was reaching for him again.

Adrian moved his hand up and down experimentally. He grew bolder when Trevor did not complain again. Trevor actually looked like he felt good, his face pinched and his lips parted. Sypha helped out by covering Adrian’s hand in hers, and moving the both of them the way she knew Trevor liked. Trevor’s breaths came more harshly though his lips.
Adrian moved his hand in time with Sypha’s, who eventually pulled back and allowed him free reign. He used his newfound freedom and slight confidence to explore Trevor a little. He dragged a single finger over the head of Trevor’s dick. A groan came from Trevor’s lips when Adrian accidentally pressed a nail there, which definitely didn’t affect Adrian.
He squirmed a little in Sypha’s hold as he jerked Trevor off, aware of the ever-increasing tightness of his pants. Sypha noticed, of course, and thumbed his belt’s buckle. “Could I take these off?” Adrian nodded, and had to pause touching Trevor to lift his hips, so that Sypha could pull his leather pants off. Trevor helped pull them off the rest of the way.

Sypha, perhaps cautious of his growing nerves, did not ask to remove his underwear. He knew the scars on his legs were on display. They had lightened, but they were still clearly visible. Like the scar his father had given him, they stubbornly refused to fade.
Instead, she laid her hand on Adrian’s dick through the fabric of his underwear, which made him suck in a breath. “May I?” she asked. “Yes,” he answered, voice hoarse. Sypha moved her hand over him, and Adrian’s head fell back on her shoulder. He felt a dip in the mattress, and then Trevor was hovering over his ear. His voice was low and roughened.
“I want to kiss you,” he said, and Adrian swallowed. Then he nodded, and Trevor kissed him immediately. Trevor’s stubble tickled, which would have distracted him if Trevor weren’t such a good kisser. Or perhaps Adrian was simply inexperienced, but the effect remained the same. Adrian moved the way he had with Sypha, and his head swam. Speaking of Sypha, the way she moved her hand made his hips buck involuntarily. She pressed a kiss to his neck, and a noise rose from the back of his throat.

Trevor broke the kiss, and Adrian took the opportunity. “I want-” he began, which cut off into a little moan when Sypha bit his earlobe. He tried again. “I want to-” he couldn’t make himself say the words, but he hooked his thumbs on the hem on his underwear, making himself quite clear. “All right,” said Sypha, and she paused teasing him for long enough that he was able to lift his hips again. Trevor pulled the garment down and tossed it somewhere on the floor. Adrian squirmed, because they were staring.

Trevor physically shook his head in order to clear his thoughts, halfway between arousal and the murder of people long dead. Was it possible to feel smugly superior over dead people? Trevor was about to prove it was. He caressed his way from Adrian’s knee to his thigh and closer still. He looked at Adrian for permission. He nodded. “Please,” he said.
Trevor stroked Adrian’s dick at a slow but steady pace. His hand was much warmer than Adrian’s body temperature, which made the whole thing somehow better. His earlier plea must have broken some internal dam, because a little noise escaped him with every movement. His head fell onto Sypha’s shoulder and she took the opportunity to ravish him. The noises of her tongue were utterly obscene as she kissed and licked his neck and ear. They formed a two-pronged attack on his senses, and embarrassingly fast, he had to take hold of Trevor’s wrist. “Wait, I-“, he tried, and Trevor smiled a wolfish grin. “Sypha’s turn,” he said. Adrian did not fully understand until Trevor sat back against the headboard and patted the space between his legs. He tilted his head at Adrian in question. Who was he to refuse?
He felt a little awkward, because he could feel Trevor’s erection at the small of his back, but Trevor only pulled him flush against his chest.

Sypha did not need anyone’s permisson to strip, shedding her top and leggings as easily as breathing. Adrian’s eyes were wide as dinnerplates as she crawled into his lap on all fours. Despite his repeated exposure, Trevor looked rightfully impressed. She glided her fingertips along Adrian’s arms and shoulders, watched as goosebumps follow her wake. She trailed downwards past Adrian’s navel, all eyes in the room glued to the sight of her hand wrapped around Adrian’s dick. Adrian’s breath shuddered when she picked up Tevor’s earlier pace.
“Watch,” Trevor said lowly in his ear. Arousal put a slight growl in his voice, which made a valiant attempt to turn Adrian’s insides into liquid. Trevor reached out and piched one of Sypha’s nipples softly. He rolled the nipple between his thumb and his index finger, and Sypha’s breathing quickened. Her rhythm did not falter. Adrian had already scarcely believed his eyes when Sypha had undressed. To reach out and touch her body was even better. He trailed his fingers over her breasts reverently.
Sypha paused her work to ask Adrian a very important question.
“Can I suck you off?” Adrian looked a little thunderstruck, but nodded his head. She heard Trevor swear softly.

She ducked between his knees slowly, with a sly smile. She pressed a small kiss to the tip of Adrian’s dick and relished in the twitch it gave in response. A little bolder, she lapped up and down it, paying extra attention to the underside of the head. She closed her lips around the tip and headed down.
Sypha’s mouth was a thing of miracles, Adrian decided. She bobbed her head up and down, while swirling her tongue around his dick, and he wondered how she even managed it. There was ecstacy in the plush wetness of her mouth, and she spared him nothing. Trevor pitched in by nibbling on the crook of his neck. He could not help the wanton moans that escaped him with every one of Sypha’s movements. “S-Sypha,” he warned her, hands flying to her hair in desperation. Sypha made eye contact with him, and pointedly sank her head down again, agonisingly slow. He needed scarcely a moment more before he involuntarily tightened his hold on Sypha’s hair. He groaned her name as his hips bucked, his eyes screwed shut.
“Shit, sorry,” he said, when he came back to himself. He released his grip on her hair, and she straightened herself with an obscene popping noise. She smiled when he swore. His erection stubbornly refused to go down. Trevor’s was leaving a wet spot on his back.

Sypha finally thumbed her underwear, and Adrian could not have looked away from the line of her arousal that trailed between her underwear and her pussy. She was, quite literally, dripping wet. He swallowed thickly, hearing Trevor react much the same. He was only distantly aware that Trevor was gripping his thigh with what would have been bruising strength for a human.
She tapped her finger to her lips in an exagerrated thinking pose, while she mainained her balance on her knees. She was quite aware of her audience, and she would not rob her boys of the sight of her so quickly. Her boys had a nice ring to it, she thought. She walked on her knees into Adrian’s lap, her legs all the way next to Trevor’s. The spread of her knees brought her hips downwards, towards Adrian’s still erect dick. She would probably have sore inner thighs tomorrow, but the downright hungry look on Adrian’s face was more than worth it. She made eye contact with Trevor, who looked only aroused and curious. She looked at Adrian, and waited.
“Are you sure?” he asked. She nodded. “I want to,” she said. He swallowed hard, and fisted the bedsheets until his knuckles turned white. He nodded. Both men stared at her pussy as she lowered her hips, slowly.

Inside Sypha was like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and the best thing in the world. She sank down on his dick agonisingly slowly, dragging the moment out. Adrian vaguely registered the sound of fabric tearing to shreds. Someone was groaning like a dying man. She was breathing heavily, and she was a vison. A pretty blush sat on her cheeks, complimenting her tan skin and red hair. Her eyes were a little glassy with pleasure, which made him glad and a little proud.
A low noise, an open-mouthed moan, his body vocalised without his input when she bottomed out. Sypha chuckled, Trevor swore. Adrian’s head fell back on Trevor’s shoulder, and he watched with rapt attention as Sypha lifted her hips. When she sank down again, quicker, they both moaned. Sypha’s voice was airy and filled with lust.

He watched Sypha as she set a pace she liked, dragging Adrian along for the ride. Poor sod (lucky bastard), his eyebrows turned up and his mouth open. It ocurred to Trevor then, just how much he loved her, and just how easily Adrian completed them both. It also occurred that right now wasn’t really the time to get sappy. Luckily for him, Trevor’s brain could barely form the thought before a noise of Sypha’s thouroughly derailed him. She dragged her fingers through his hair while Trevor thumbed her nipples, and Adrian groaned when she tugged on his hair a little.
“Sypha,” said Adrian, the word low and desperate. He put a hand on either side of her waist. “I need- slower, Sypha.” Trevor watched the rhythm of her hips change according to Adrian’s plea. She moved slowly, which might have been an awful tease for anyone else, but only served to work Adrian up more. His eyes were wide open, focused on Sypha swallowing him up. He was babbling nonsense, and Sypha wondered if he was even aware he was doing it. “God, you’re so- ah- I can’t even- hah- fuck, it’s so good. So good. Oh, Sypha, please,” he said. He clutched on to her hips for dear life when his hips bucked, but Sypha did not falter, and Trevor had the distinct pleasure of watching a man get fucked through his orgasm.

Adrian leaned against Sypha’s shoulder while he caught his breath. He had to wait for the blood rushing in his ears to subside before he regained the presence of mind to stop squishing Sypha in half. He would’ve apologised, if he’d been able to form the words. He blinked his eyes back into focus instead. Trevor dragged his nails down his back, which made him shudder, which made him hiss when he accidentally jostled Sypha. She pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. He felt a little like he might cry of happiness, but he decided to try and prevent that. He swallowed thickly and kissed Sypha instead. “Where should I go, before my bones give out?” he asked no-one in particular. She chuckled and pointed at the available pillows next to Trevor. “Just enjoy the show,” she said, and she pushed him gently in the right direction.

With Adrian well and truly fucked silly, she was able to devote all her attention to Trevor instead. He grinned confidently at her as she approached, uncaring of the mess she was dripping over the sheets. “Round two, Madam Speaker?” Sypha positioned herself above him. “Quite right, Sir Belmont,” she replied. She sank down without the gentle hesitation that Adrian had required. She and Trevor were long since confident and knowledgeable about each other, so she focused on setting the pace she liked. She wasn’t able to hold it for nearly long enough with Adrian, but she could never begrudge him this. Trevor gripped her thighs and lifted her when she moved upwards, aiding her in approaching her orgasm.
She kissed him messily, hungrily, always nearing her peak and chasing it. Trevor, bless him, peeled a hand off her hip to rub circles over her clit. As Trevor knew, the added sensation would have her seeing stars before long. After all, fucking Adrian had her more aroused than ever.

She bit Trevor’s neck at the spot under his ear he liked as her hips stuttered and eventually halted. She shuddered with the force of her release even as Trevor began moving around the bed. He lifted her gently and laid her on her back, putting his arms next to her head. “Bear with me a moment, love,” he said. She grinned up at him, boneless. “Gladly.”

Trevor moved his hips slower than Sypha had, mindful of the sensitive state she was in. Her vagina was still spasming and fluttering around his dick, and he groaned low. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and drank in the view as he moved his hips. She was a vision, and he knew Adrian was watching them and thought the same. Somehow, sharing the pleasure hightened it. He still had his hands on her waist, because he relished in the way that looked. A bead of sweat fell down his forehead and rolled off her breast, and he was gone. His hips bucked in the aftershocks of his orgasm, and he moaned, to which Sypha made a very pleased expression.

When Trevor fell down onto the mattress, Adrian wasn’t there anymore. He’d dragged himself off the bed and to a corner of the room, where he dug through Sypha’s bags until he found a clean towel she’d have used on the road. She took it from him gratefully, and she cleaned herself up a little.
Adrian got back on the bed, suddenly uncertain. Trevor made the decision for him by rolling onto his back. “Over here, Tepeș,” he said, and Adrian laid his head on Trevor’s chest. Sypha joined him, and he basked in their nearness like a cat in the sun. Trevor wrapped his arms around the both of them in what would have been a bear hug, if he had any strength in his muscles.
They breathed together, and Adrian dozed off.

Breakfast was a lazy affair of warm bread and jam. If Jakob thought anything of their sleepy eyes and tangled legs, he didn't show it. If anything, the kid just continued to babble his latest discoveries about Latin names for owls. When Sypha asked, cautious and gentle, he said "I never believed the Bible much anyways," and that was that.

Chapter Text

I really like the idea of Jakob exploring cooking/baking as a pasttime, now that he has free access to a kitchen and flour and sugar and such. I think he would like providing for people, and that sense of control that baking has, when you weigh everything nice and precise.

Continuing that thought, I think my universe's Trevor would end up with an inevitable dad bod. That is to say, he'll stop needing to kill night creatures at some point, as their numbers decrease to pre-Dracula levels, and the general populace re-leans to skewer their own demonic flying goats. So, Trevor finds himself with lots of free time, a drinking habit to kick, and an almost-adopted-boy who just keeps fucking baking. Anyone would put on a little weight if they ate more sugar without all that desperate, life-threatening exercise, and I think Trevor especially deserves to, even. I think after a horrible youth and a rough adolescence he deserves the kind of domesticity that has you put on weight. You know how people in happy, healthy relationships put on weight? Yeah.

I think Jakob grows out his hair to about his shoulders, and he asks Sypha to put it up for him. I envision a simple low ponytail that he might stick a pretty leaf or flower into.

Speaking of Sypha, I bet she would rock some pants. That's it, that's the theory, folks. Sypha, in trousers. They're comfortable and I think she would like them.

I also believe Sypha would cajole the boys into adopting some kind of pet, like a hurt fox they nurse back to health, that keeps reappearing every autumn to check if all its favourite humans are still alive.

I think Jakob might like to tie his hair with bright blue ribbons, and I'd bet good money that half his wardrobe ends up dyed Speaker blue. The other hal ends up mended with blue thread.

I think Adrian would like someone to prattle against. You know how explaining things to someone makes you understand it better? I think he'd like to work on things like chemical formulas (like for dyeing clothing blue.. hmm), and that he talks to nobody in particular while he does it. I think Jakob would like that kind of background noise.

I think the whole gang will do a little road-trip. Nothing heavy, nothing far, just four people and a cart, seeing the countryside now that it's peaceful and recovering. I love the idea of Jakob telling Adrian all about the different trees, the flowers, the bunnies, and Adrian would listen to him talk the way Jakob listens in the lab.

I think Jakob is the kind of boy to want to travel for himself, especially after Belnades and Belmont's harrowing tales of adventure, and I think he would visit his old village again. He visits the dead house, not a home any longer, the hole in the roof even worse than all those years ago, since none of the villagers decided to waste resources repairing a house for a dead family. He leaves Mattias' axe on his parent's bed, the handle of it long since too small for his hands, the blade clean as the day it was made. He leaves a little bouquet of wildflowers next to it, as he had done for the vampires and demons buried in the castle's front yard.

I loved the little village in front of the castle in season four of the show. I think Sypha might extend her hospitality to any and all Speakers wiling to take her up on it. Soon enough, the word spreads; Speakers looking for a place to set up camp, to regroup, to exchange goods and people, all find themselves welcome at 'The Castle'. Adrian dislikes the hubbub on a bad day, but is willing to tolerate the noise and the people for Sypha's genuine joy at helping her people like this.

Jakob writes down the stories he told Mattias into his own children's books and hides them in bookcases all throughout the castle. Sypha and Adrian stumble on them whenever they root through the array of tomes collected here and there.

Adrian's white wolf from becomes a local legend amongst townspeople, and they tell each other stories of a great white beast killing the weasel that ate their chickens, or scaring off the wild fox that kept trying to steal new-born lambs.

I think Jakob will grow into a very well-read boy. He already likes reading, even when he barely understands what he's looking at, and he has two scholars to teach him and Trevor to encourage him. Trevor, by the way, is smart when he wants to be. You don't get taught bestiaries and magics for half your life and not pick any of it up.

I'm ending this on a good one;
They do end up making room for four in Adrian's little vegetable patch.