Warning: Castlevania season IV spoilers
Timing: post-Castlevania season IV events
Pairing: Alucard/Greta
Moving into Mature territory with this short. I expect this to have around 2 chapters.
Trevor glanced up at the red-tinted leaves, brightened by the glow of the great bonfires lit in the wide area surrounding the castle. "Am I the only one who finds it strange to hold a harvest festival here?"
Alucard looked at the scene unfolding ahead. The weather was mild as evening settled, and people already gathered together, their faces tired but relieved and carefree for once. "I know what you mean."
Sypha shrugged, her head falling against Trevor's shoulder. She sat between the hunter and Alucard, nursing a cup of tea. "Things change. The dark legacy of this place might also fade with the ages."
Alucard made no comment, glancing at the tall structure that held both his dearest memories and foulest trials.
The three of them lay sprawled at the foot of a thick oak tree at the very edge of the clearing, whose lowered branches twined above their heads. Sypha was smothered in blankets and cushions, while Trevor and Alucard rested on the ground.
"So anyway," Trevor cleared his throat. "They did that, huh. Alucard that's… messed up," he rubbed the back of his head, "whichever way you turn it." He pondered, and as Alucard said nothing, a smirk changed his face. Even his scar was smiling. "On the other hand, if you think about it…"
Alucard closed his eyes. "Please don't make me regret telling you."
"Having a threesome for a first time…"
"There it is," the dhampir groaned, covering his face with his palm.
Sypha glared at the hunter, and Trevor cringed. "Alucard, that is horrible." She reached and took Alucard's long hand in hers. "I'm so, so sorry you went through that. If only we had known," she added, and when Sypha looked at Trevor again, she saw the same thought clearly written on his face, despite his jabs and utter lack of tact.
"Right," the hunter feigned indifference, though his eyes stayed dark as he propped his head against the tree trunk. "What she said."
Alucard sighed. He looked ahead of them, where a group of children ran circles around one of the larger bonfires. "The saddest part of it all?" he raised his gaze to the gold and red oaken crown. A slight breeze shivered through its boughs and feathered over his skin as he breathed the lingering autumn scents. "It was all completely avoidable."
Sypha rested her head against Alucard and they all fell silent, staring at the folk gathered to celebrate and share stories, music, and foods drawn from crops that came to maturity around this time in the season. The air was rich with the wholesome scents of cooked vegetables and nuts, melding with the aroma of freshly baked bread and simmering stew.
"Where's... Greta?" Trevor asked after a while.
"She was exhausted from the return journey. Resting, probably," Alucard murmured. "We said we'd meet here."
The hunter leaned forward, gazing at Alucard. "You have no idea where she is, do you?"
Alucard pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your point?"
Trevor looked at Sypha with a raised eyebrow. "Pardon me, prince of darkness, but weren't you two…" he made a swirling gesture with his hand.
Alucard rolled his eyes. "I know I'll regret this, but to answer your poorly knitted question… Somewhat. Why?"
"Well, uh…" Trevor looked at Sypha again in supplication, but all she gave was a shrug.
"You defeated Death, but I see linking words together is still a challenge," Alucard needled him.
"I think," Sypha smiled kindly, "Trevor is simply worried for you, Alucard," she grinned, taking pity on her tongue-tied partner. "He thinks you might be… reluctant to let go, to live."
"Speaker, for God's sake…" Trevor moaned, becoming smaller against the tree.
Alucard frowned, looking at his hands. "I don't want to rush things."
"Look," Trevor said, "none of my business, and punch me if you like, but… is it because of what happened with those shits?"
"Excuse me?" Alucard froze. His eyes narrowed and a sliver of annoyance coursed through him at the memory, and the assumption. He felt Sypha's slender hand gripping his; it mellowed him, and Alucard breathed before shooting Trevor a sidelong glance. "No, it's not." He slowly rose from his spot. "I think I'll go get myself a drink. The wine is supposed to be delicious, I'm told."
"Alucard," Sypha called softly as her friend gained his feet.
Alucard gazed down at her.
"We only want you to be content, you know that."
The music of drum and fiddle reached them from afar, where others shared in lively dance, and they heard the stomping of eager feet deep in revelry.
"I know," a faint smile brimmed on his angular features. "I am." With that, he nodded a farewell, and turned away. "I'll see you later."
When Alucard was out of sight, Trevor sought Sypha's gaze. "That went well," he muttered.
"I think he simply needs time," Sypha murmured. "We all do."
Trevor grumbled in agreement.
"We shouldn't have left," she said, pulling at the sleeve of her thick tunic. "We should never have left."
"You know what? You're right." Trevor's arm bound around her, bringing Sypha closer.
"I'm always right, Trevor Belmont."
Trevor scoffed, and a silly smile changed his sharp, craggy features, making him look rather childlike. He nuzzled closer and placed a gentle palm to Sypha's middle. "But we're back here now. Better late than never, I suppose. Either we've been very lucky, or we did something right." He glanced at the castle and the partly erected settlement around it. "This is Home now."
Sypha kissed his temple and ruffled his messy hair, then placed her hand over his, clasping tightly. "Yes. This is Home."
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Alucard neared the long tables laden with food and drink, took an earthenware cup and poured. The wine was dark and rich, and he took a good long sip, watching the village folk enmeshed in their evening revelry.
As the alcohol softened his muscles and the tension in his jaw, Alucard had a bitter remembrance of other nights spent in solitude, lurking in whatever room of the castle his feet had led him to, near stark mad and drinking himself half-blind.
It had taken over a week for him to dispose of the savaged sheets after the failed attempt and death of his apprentices, before he'd actually gotten around to spiking their bodies and cleanse himself of their blood. Even now, when loneliness was a thing of the past, and his days were so busy with rebuilding and coordinating efforts, there was no relief for him through the forgetfulness of sleep - many nights still brought vivid, renewed nightmares where the ghosts of his past mingled, where the disembodied voices of his parents echoed endlessly before being torn asunder. A breeze sifted through his hair and Alucard shivered, only then noticing his skin had pricked from the chill of memory.
Frowning, he shook his head.
Was Belmont right?
Maybe he was not ready for more, not yet.
Let them get used to you, and you'll get used to them.
Greta's words had some sense to them now that he thought about it. But could he?
Even now, when all seemed right for once, his mind saw fit to replay the cycle his life had followed until now - the struggle, the fight, the loneliness - all mashed together in the grinding mill of destiny. All he'd ever known.
Alucard focused back on the present, his hearing attuned to the young woman seated by the closest bonfire, her voice an interesting mesh of high and low notes. Folk gathered around, drank, and listened, the glow of the flames lapping at their faces. A sad flute accompanied her layered voice, but Alucard had lost the first part of her song. If you could stop drowning in your mind for once. The simple, heartfelt melody still lifted him from the nether as he stared into the fire that burned high against the night sky.
"Enjoying the ballad?" came the question uttered close to him.
Alucard blinked - how ridiculous, to be caught unawares like this - then a smile curled his lips, and he inhaled the scent that had an odd effect not dissimilar to the wine; there was that decisive, unpretentious tone that emanated trust and honesty. "Bewitching voice," he said. "I was nearly swept away."
Greta stood at his side, closer, and despite the consuming thoughts and the downward spiral of his thoughts, Alucard felt a foreign thrill, and a curious stab of thirst. Not the vampiric kind, but the plain, very human flavor of excitement and need. It was an unfamiliar sentiment, one seemingly enhanced by her nearness. "What is it about?" he asked, frowning at his own changing state now she was here. His mouth was dry, and Alucard downed the rest of his wine, then placed the cup aside.
The woman said nothing at first, and he turned his head to gaze down at the one who'd taken more of his thought space than he thought possible - or wise.
"Betrayal," Greta said, watching the minstrel. The flames danced in her eyes.
The word had been blunt, spoken matter-of-factly. Her face in the golden-red light of the fire looked otherworldly, as chiseled in the likeness of a forgotten chthonic deity. Still watching her, Alucard marveled, not for the first time, at those delicate features, the long, swan-like neck and lithe limbs, all in contrast to the savage strokes she dealt their enemies in battle.
"I see," he mused, looking back ahead. The irony was not lost on him as words soared from the singer's lips like an aria of sorrow. "Is there a happy ending?"
Greta smiled and finally looked up at him. "No."
Alucard felt the touch of her fingers, coarse and warm, her thumb grazing his knuckles. He grinned. "You people have strange concepts of merriment, then," he quipped, prey to a change of mood. He felt lighter.
"We must not forget our grief," Greta said. "It's perpetual. It's who we are. Return from it, live, but honor its teachings."
Alucard closed his eyes, swallowing as her fingers drew soothing motions into his palm, trailing up to his wrist. Greta had been gone on errands for over a week, and they agreed Alucard would oversee the community needs in her stead. This was the first time they had a moment, an actual moment together, since her return. "You're basically telling me humans are a sad lot."
Greta chuckled, pulling at his hand, and Alucard faced her; his breath caught. Her usual attire was gone and instead she wore a white, knee-length shirt fastened by a slender linen belt, dark leggings and soft linen shoes.
"Where's your hammer?" Alucard asked, watching her with the shade of a smile.
Greta crossed her arms at her chest. "Where's your sword?"
"Touché." He grinned, fangs glistening as he reached and tucked a strand of hair behind her rounded ear; on impulse, his finger lingered and grazed the delicate shell. The corner of her lip twitched. "Walk with me," Alucard said, offering her his arm.
Greta obliged, fingers eagerly binding around his forearm, and they walked in silence until they came to a more secluded place amid the trees that bordered the clearing.
"Where are we going?" she asked after some time, sounding amused.
"I... don't know," Alucard replied. He smiled at her soft snicker, but the woman said nothing else. Truth be told, their destination was the last thought on his mind as Alucard tried - rather unsuccessfully - to ignore the way she leaned into him as they walked. Greta was warm, her body so frail compared to him, though Alucard knew well the raw strength and power that coiled within that human frame. His own body was drowning in sensations he never even knew existed, and Alucard found he needed more of this - more of her.
Music, laughter and conversation dimmed, and he felt the tentative pull on his arm. Greta urged them to a halt before a large, sheltering tree. "Here," she prompted.
Alucard discarded his coat and spread it on the ground. The woman descended to a seated position and made herself comfortable, her arms outstretched, beckoning him down with a secret smile.
The absence of light did not affect his vision in the least, and Alucard caught the flush on her face, slithering down her neck, and the sheen of her parted lips; the way she watched him. At her gentle insistence, he sank down to his knees, and before he knew it, the dhampir was lying on his back with his head resting in her lap. He sighed, content, inhaling the addictive sweetness of her scent; it enveloped him, lingering on her skin, her clothes, in her unbound hair.
The long muscles in her thighs tensed beneath his head as Greta shifted her position slightly, and leaned closer to his face. Her gaze was intent. "Tell me."
Alucard looked up at her, raising a questioning eyebrow. "... What?"
"There's something you want to talk about, isn't there? You forgot - I told you, I'm very clever."
"Ah, yes," Alucard groused, feigning annoyance. "And you're always kind enough to remind me of said fact." Her body shook against him when Greta laughed, and for some reason, his mouth watered.
"Tell me," she insisted, leaning over him and taking his face in her palms. There had always been a familiarity to their interactions from the very beginning. It was all new to him, but Alucard found it was also very simple with her. Simple and direct. Her honesty burned like a bright flame through the canvas of his odd, barren life.
He bit the inside of his cheek and cleared his throat, then began in a facetious voice, "Fine. First, I'm glad you're back." He raised his hand and his fingers skimmed the skin of her cheek and neck, drifting to the loose collar of her shirt. She had unfastened it at the front, revealing slender collarbones. Alucard sighed and looked away, shaking his head. His hand fell back over his chest. Her heart beat faster now, and a part of him was pleased to know he affected her so strongly, if the aroma of incensed blood spoke truth - and blood always did. "I don't… know how to properly do this," Alucard admitted. His smile turned bitter as their eyes met again.
Greta placed a warm, seeking palm to his chest and ran a soothing, circular trail over the tense muscles there. "Try?"
Alucard opened his mouth, then closed it, and laughed deep in his throat. His heart leapt beneath her touch. Was he afraid, as Belmont hinted? Ridiculous. And yet. "Did you mean it?" he asked, a pulsing dizziness taking over when the woman curled closer, her dark hair tickling his temples and cheek. His eyes closed.
"You'll have to be more descriptive than that, Adrian," Greta said. Her amber eyes were on his lips, her searching fingers gentle as they ran over him, reaching down to his abdomen; at his compulsive swallow, she followed a slow retreat up along his torso.
It felt so good, Alucard barely kept from arching into her touch like some starving stray. He opened his eyes to see the woman grinning in mischief. Annoyance flared, but soon paled compared to the rising heat in his blood. He'd... missed her? "Did you mean it when you said you were here to - what was it?" an unwieldy grin crept across his face. "Teach me how to live my life?"
Greta laughed again; a careless, gratifying sound. Her fingers threaded through his hair, fanned about him in her lap. Slowly and languidly, her caress charged him with lightning through every stroke, every graze of her nails against his scalp. Remnants of weariness bled away under her skillful touch.
"It's not that difficult a task, now that I know you better," the woman teased, both hands playing in his hair now. "But that's not what you're asking, is it?" She brought her face closer to his. "You're actually asking if I'll stay. With you."
"You are clever," Alucard slurred. His nerves were again on a peculiar edge, pulled taut from her closeness and another surprise posed her hands, which had dealt death with unwavering surety and determination; now, they touched him with a gentleness that shattered his knees, and Alucard doubted he'd be able to stand if the situation demanded it for whatever reason. He relinquished any thought of fighting it.
"I told you!" she pulled at his hair, not enough to hurt but enough to tip him over the edge; his eyes were dark as Alucard slowly rose, an arm wrapping around her waist and drawing her in, ordering her into his lap. In a rush of movement, Greta straddled him, her thighs gripping his hips as his hands trailed up the sides of her waist.
Now this was better. "Answer me, then," Alucard breathed, his hand roaming up her back, feeling the dents in her straight spine. He had to know. Being close to her was like being swept away by a flood of need, emotion, and desire. Bursts of chaotic sensations speared him, pumping through his senses like a maelstrom.
Her chest heaved, and the tips of her breasts peaked through her soft shirt. Alucard considered she had not expected this of him, but her face soon regained that charming, assertive air he knew.
He gasped when she rolled her hips, pressing down on his; he felt himself hardening, and the harder he became, the more she teased; his eyes flared red as his hands shot to grasp her hipbones, to steady her. It was still strange to accept being needed like this; it brought out a side of him that Alucard never thought would see the light of day. But she unraveled him with such ease it was confusing, frightening and no less thrilling. He brought her closer until Greta was lined against him, her breasts flattened against his chest.
"Yes," her answer shivered in his ear; she pressed her face to his neck.
Elated, his heart rebelled up his throat, pounding all the way down to the filling arousal twitching beneath her. Stupid with desire, Alucard kneaded the soft flesh of her thigh and groaned softly, his other hand raised to cup the back of her head. He gripped her hair tightly and pulled, forcing the woman to meet his gaze.
"Look at you…" Greta licked her lips, watching him with a fascinated gleam in her deep amber eyes, catching the flare in his red-glazed irises. She dropped her gaze to his mouth; her thighs clenched around his hips. "But maybe, there's..." she paused, breathless as Alucard dipped his head and ran his straight nose along the side of her exposed neck, his wet lips parting to suck on the sensitive skin, "... something you can teach me."
"Stranger things have happened…" he rasped against her throat, lost to the delicious drum of her life and a hot, incessant demand for fulfillment. Alucard nipped at the side of her jaw, his hand still caught in her hair to keep her still. He enjoyed this taste of power, the way she yielded in his hold, the implied trust. He kissed the tip of her chin, his grip becoming possessive as his mouth finally ghosted hers. Alucard drew away for a moment, wanting to see her eyes.
"Adrian…" Greta all but moaned his name. "Let's…"
Her thoughts mirrored his, and Alucard slowly rose to his feet, still holding the woman fast as her limbs circled around him. His smile was dark, hungry, and full of promise. "Let's."
Next chapter: more of this (sorry)