Title: Night Reader

Rating: T/M

Pairings: Eventually Krolock/Alfred

Genre: Drama/General

Summary: What if Alfred met Krolock before the story began? AU

A/N: There I was, finishing Aphelion, and thinking: "This is it. This is the finale of my last Krolock/Alfred -story."

But here we are. This is another attempt of mine at this pairing, but this time with a slightly different starting. It has lived in my mind for a while now, maybe even when I was telling myself I'm probably not going to write another Tanz story. But when there's so little Krolock/Alfred in the world, what can one do?

I hope you enjoy, and if you got time, let me know what you think!

Alfred had never felt such bitter cold.

It seemed to go under his skin and into his bones, chilling him under even his heavy winter coat. The season was rarely so harsh back in Königsberg; the vicinity of the sea kept the weather moderately mild. There was more snow than he had ever seen in his life, glittering dimly in soft moonlight. Tall firs reached up to the sky like giant fingers. He supposed it could have been a very pretty picture, almost as though from a story book, but in his current predicament Alfred could hardly appreciate it.

"Professor!" he called for his mentor once more, though his voice did not ring as strongly anymore. Where was the old man? It felt like Alfred had been looking for his companion for hours now; in the quiet, moonlit landscape time seemed to have lost its meaning. Every smallest shadow flickering in the woods roused his hope, and then he would dash with renewed vigour, though it was only to see that his eyes had deceived him.

The young student did not know which he wanted more: to cry or to curse. It was so like the old man to get lost in this foreign Transylvanian wood! Common joke back at Königsberg was that Professor Abronsius could lose his way in his own library. Oh, why had Alfred thought it would be a good idea to follow the eccentric old academic to a distant land neither of them had ever visited before! Right now, he could be in his own room back at the house of his parents, feet stretched towards a nice fire while he read a book on this strange land! Right now, it seemed like the closest he wanted to acquaint himself with Transylvania.

"Professor!" he tried again, but his voice cracked in the middle of his desperate call. His mentor was not going to hear such a pathetic whimper. The bad thing was, he wasn't sure how long they had been separated. The way he often did, Abronsius must have seen something that had caught his attention, and so he had stayed behind while Alfred unwittingly went on... eventually, the young student had realised he was alone, and so he had tried to follow his own trail back, but it availed him nothing. The Professor had vanished as though into thin air.

He knew the village should not be far now and there he could have got some help, but he had already lost his sense of direction. They had consulted maps before embarking the last leg of their journey, but in the dark, snow-clad wood every tree and every stone looked the same.

Hot tears were beginning to pool in his eyes – the only thing that still felt warm in his body. Was this to be the dismal end to the journey they had started with such great expectations? How the Professor had managed to convince him that they were going to make history with their breakthrough research on creatures that modern science regarded as nothing more than myth? How naive and foolish he had been! But then, Alfred couldn't deny the idea had enchanted him... he had been so sure this was his chance to prove his worth – to show everyone he deserved more from them than an absent afterthought.

What a bitter end would it be, if he perished in this wood, utterly forsaken and forgotten by the world!

Alfred trudged on. His feet felt so heavy and his arms moved stiffly when he tried to lift his hands to rub some warmth and life into them. Still he kept calling for his mentor, though his voice grew weaker and weaker. How nice would it be to lay himself down under a tree and rest for a bit... but he couldn't do that. It was the surest way to die tonight. And he had to find the Professor. Abronsius was not so young anymore – he was even more likely to freeze to death in this dismal forest. If he already hadn't...

Suddenly, there was a howl in the woods. Alfred jumped and yelped in alarm. Wolves! Of course there would be wolves here, too! And it couldn't be more than a mile away from him... he remembered asking the Professor in concern if the wolves would be a problem, but the old man had just shaken his hand dismissively and told him the beasts had even less interest in the two of them than they had in animals. Now Abronsius' reassurances did not seem so convincing anymore.

He tried to move faster, but his body was numb with the cold and this made it even more difficult to fight his way through banks of snow. There was another howl and it was closer than before. Was it his imagination, or were there gleaming eyes staring hungrily at him in the dark?

They were closing in on him. Howls now seemed to be sounding all around him, though he still could not see any glimpse of the animals. Maybe, if they were after him, it would give the Professor a chance to find some shelter?

Now he was sure he could see movement in the dark. Canine shapes were circling him, growling and yapping. Though he was exhausted, fear gave him wings, and in one last desperate attempt Alfred leaped at an ancient fir, grasping at its mighty branches in the hopes of getting to safety. Tears ran freely down his cheeks, burning his cold skin. He was going to die here...

There was a snapping sound just behind his heels. Alfred hauled himself upwards, but the branch was slippery, and snow fell on the back of his neck. He cried out, while in his mind he chanted his mother's favourite prayer... Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee... maybe, if he had shared the depth of her faith, he would have pursued a less prideful and ambitious path...

Suddenly the growls became frightened yips and whimpers. There was the strangest sound, the kind Alfred had never heard... like something great and terrible was flying through the air and covering the night with a shadow that would send even hungry beasts to a terrified flight. Sounds of paws running away followed, and Alfred heard a strange, low hiss... no animal he could name would make such a threatening noise...

His grip finally gave in and Alfred fell on snow with a low thump. With a trembling hand he wiped snow-melt from his eyes and looked around... and saw he was not alone.

There, some six feet away from him, stood a man. He was tall and lean and his pale, gaunt face implied it was a while since he had last enjoyed a hearty meal. This didn't seem to make sense, for his fine, elegant clothing suggested wealth that could easily provide his table with such delicacies as were wholly unknown to Alfred. The man was dressed in black from head to toe and a long flowing cloak streamed down his shoulders. Dark stones flashed in his bare, bony fingers. His hair was long and dark, with first streaks of silver like freshly fallen snow. In moonlight it was impossible to tell what colour his eyes were, but Alfred did not miss how piercing, how very strange they were. No other man he had met had such knowing, deep eyes. And his face... he might be handsome if his cheeks were not so hollow, and his expression of one who is enjoying a private joke that is not particularly nice. If the stranger had not stared at Alfred so intently, with strange fire in his gaze, he would have looked more dead than alive. The young student felt like a mouse hypnotized by the gleaming eyes of a viper.

He shivered, but this time the sensation had nothing to do with the cold. Had he... had he somehow found what he and the Professor had come to look for?

"Are you lost?" the man asked. His voice was rich and soft and pleasant, but with a strange, powerful undercurrent. He sounded gentle and amused and not at all surprised. A faintest smirk played about his mouth, like nothing could please him more than finding a half-frozen student from Königsberg stumbling around in the woods.

"P-p-professor... I c-can't f-f-find him..." Alfred stammered. His tongue was stiff in his mouth, as though it was frozen, too.

"You will find nothing but your death if you are left in the cold for much longer", said the stranger softly as he took a step closer to Alfred.

"P-p-please", said the young man as he tried to get up on his feet. They did not carry him far. "P-please..."

The stranger's white face betrayed no emotion and his eyes only glimmered as he studied the young man. Over the course of past few months, Professor Abronsius had spoken much of the undead, but most of his theories began with the assumption that vampires were cold, soulless creatures... that whatever intelligence they had was of an animalistic kind. However, this man, this thing, regarded Alfred with such clear, thoughtful eyes that it was deeply unnerving. Could it be the Professor was wrong?

"I admit I am curious to learn what brings you to this wood", the tall man said softly, holding Alfred down with the stare of his eyes. "But perhaps we should first get you warm... make sure there's more blood in your veins than ice."

Once more Alfred shuddered. The choice of words did not reassure him and it was entirely possible, if this man was what he suspected, that he would be warmed up only to so that he could be used for some nefarious purposes. On the other hand, what else could he do? He would not survive much longer in the cold and obviously there was no one else left in these woods willing and capable to help. He could not do anything for the Professor if he froze to death. Maybe he could find a way to escape once he was recovered... sometimes, one only has a few bad alternatives.

"H-h-h-help", he whimpered. His limbs felt like lead and he fell back in the snow.

"Shh, young one", a soft voice murmured, and then a pair of arms snaked their way under his armpits and knees. He was lifted so quickly and effortlessly that he was alarmed; he had not expected this finely dressed stranger to be so strong. The edge of the cloak was pulled around him, but the material was too light to provide much warmth. Even so, the soft velvet felt reassuring against his cheek.

"P-p-professor", Alfred stammered and tried to move, but he was so tired, and the arms held him tightly.

"Don't you worry about him", a soothing voice murmured, pulling a sweet warm haze around his thoughts. Alfred was too weary and cold to resist it.

He must have passed out then, for the next thing he knew was the glow of warmth against his face. His cheek was against some kind of a coarse, tangled fur and around his body, blankets were wrapped so tightly it felt like a restraint.

Alfred opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the source of heat: a great fireplace was lit with what almost looked like a proper pyre. He was lying before it on a large animal skin – bear, he judged by what had once been its head. As many things he noted subsequently, the blankets on him were ancient, but they looked like they had been the finest you could get at the time.

As soon as he shifted, a cool hand suddenly appeared to lift up his head. Then the edge of a dusty glass was pressed against his lips.

"Drink this. It will warm you up", a voice murmured softly, urging him to drink. Alfred, being in no physical or mental state to refuse anything, instinctively opened his mouth.

Some brandy slithered down his throat like a rope of fire. Unaccustomed to strong spirits as he was, Alfred coughed and sat up sharply. Once again water pooled in his eyes, but in the pit of his stomach, there was now a ball of warmth that was slowly radiating to the rest of his body.

Now he was able to pay attention to his surroundings. Immediately, his eyes were fixed on the person kneeling by his side: it was the man from the woods, resting himself against one knee and staring down at Alfred. The warm glow of fire had brought no colour to his white face and in this light, the young man could see the strange contrast of pale skin to the ruddy shade of his mouth. Still the most unnerving, most hypnotizing, were his brilliant blue eyes. Alfred had never seen such a vivid shade. The flickering light of fire and play of shadows it created made those eyes look even deeper than back in the woods. It was like staring into a deep icy lake in the middle of winter...

He must be staring like some kind of an idiot, for one corner of the red mouth lifted in a crooked smile that made his already menacing features look positively wicked.

"How do you feel?" the dark-haired man asked. His voice was surprisingly friendly – especially if he was what Alfred suspected. If only the Professor was here! He would know what to do...

"I'm fine", he said, sitting up straighter when he remembered his old companion. "The Professor – he's still out there! I got to go and help him-"

Alfred would have leaped up from the pelt, but a bony hand pressed him down again. There was startling strength in that hand, and it was much greater than his own.

"I'm afraid it is too late to help your professor", said the strange man softly. His eyes held Alfred captive just as much as his hand did.

"What do you mean? I can't just sit here while he -" he tried again, pushing against the hand, but it did not give in one bit.

"He was found dead. I'm sorry", said the blue-eyed stranger softly.

"No! No, it can't be!" Alfred exclaimed and searched the face of his rescuer in desperation, hoping to see a sign that this was some kind of a misunderstanding. However, the man regarded him seriously, and nothing about his expression implied a faintest chance that Professor Abronsius was alive.

Tears were rolling down his cheeks before he even knew it. With a broken sob, Alfred covered his face with his hands. Poor old man! What a ghastly end it was, dying all alone in these dark woods... freezing to death because his hapless assistant couldn't find and help him! The Professor had been so excited about this journey, about finding vampires and telling the world about them, and how dismally it had ended! How could Alfred ever show his face back in Königsberg now? What was he even supposed to do?

The grip of the hand that had been holding him down now changed. Its touch became gentler, and suddenly it moved to rub his back in a gesture of comfort. Against the side of his shoulder, Alfred felt the man's chest pressing... he leaned against it, sobbing inconsolably, and never minding the fact this was hardly what your ordinary nobleman would do. And it was even less what Alfred himself would do.

"My condolences", said the tall man softly, so close it was like his voice was directly in Alfred's ear. For a while, neither of them said anything more. Alfred was preoccupied with trying to calm down, and the stranger remained by his side. The strong, bony hand still rubbed against his back in slow, round motion. The solid support of the man's chest was surprisingly comforting.

After a while, the man pulled back, and Alfred was surprised to feel so much dissatisfaction at it. His helper spoke once more.

"I understand you must be quite upset right now", he said, quiet but not unfriendly, "But even so, might I know the name of my guest?"

"A-Alfred", stammered the young man. His voice was thick and hoarse from crying and he was sure his face was red and puffy; truly this was not the most dignified introduction. He tried in a steadier voice, "It's Alfred."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Alfred", came the smooth answer. "As for me, I am Count von Krolock, the lord of this castle and lands about it. You are most welcome to stay under my roof."

"T-thank you", Alfred mumbled and stared down at his hands. He wasn't sure he was able to face what he would surely see in the tall man's eyes. He swallowed, "Is it absolutely certain? The Professor really is... dead?"

"I am afraid so. My servant found him in the woods", said the Count gravely. His hand remained against Alfred's back.

The dark-haired man went on, "Worry not over your companion. I have given orders to deliver his body to a village nearby. The people there will look after him as is proper."

Alfred couldn't help it: the words had him sobbing once more. At least, the bout was shorter this time, and by the end of it he felt exhausted both physically and emotionally. So this journey was one big failure, his mentor was dead, and all it proved he was just as incompetent as he had always feared.

"It was not your fault", the pale-faced aristocrat said suddenly, and Alfred looked up in tearful wonder. Piercing blue eyes met his own and the soft, friendly voice continued, "It is very easy to get lost in those woods, even for one who has lived here all their life. Your professor holds the blame alone, my young friend... he was your elder. He should have known better."

Alfred stared at the Count with wide eyes. He couldn't say the man's words weren't exactly what he wanted to hear, although he could not fully believe them. He still held himself responsible. He should have insisted them to get a ride, or buy better winter gear, or...

"It is very late", Count von Krolock said and stood up once more, towering above Alfred like a great tree. "A room has been prepared for you. I suggest you go and get some rest. All things will seem clearer once you have slept off your weariness."

"Thank you, Your Excellency", Alfred answered a little awkwardly and he stumbled up on his feet. A strong, bony hand was steadying him by elbow before he even knew it... it gripped him tight for a second and a shiver went down his spine. Some strange current went between them right then. He did not dare to look into the eyes of his helper.

"My pleasure, young Alfred."