Something in Common
By The Unseen Watcher
Castlvania doesn't belong to me. Nor does Vampire Hunter D. I'd have to have been seriously depressed to come up with them, so I can't claim any credit. Just thought it would be interesting seeing how they might meet. Please don't sue.
Chapter 2 -----------------
The rune wavered again, this time disappearing altogether. As he broke the chains, D could make out the muffled complaints and groans of what sounded like pain from his left hand. {{That was it? That was the big clue? Whose horrible idea of a joke was that?! I've heard better material from a drunk on a four-day binge! Latrines have better written on their walls! They must have had an even worse sense of humor than YOU . . . wait a second; did you just say dhampir?}}
Lefthand's voice trailed off as the last of the chains gave way to D's deceptively slender fingers. He too was curious. The relatively simple puzzle had revealed to him what his senses had been trying to tell him all along. The unique smell/feel of human and vampire blood mixed together grew from a trace to a dominant scent as he shoved the lid aside.
*
Inside lay a man of slightly above average height. Long, white blond hair framed a pale aristocratic face. His lean frame was covered in dark clothing so old that they almost seemed to crackle with age as the air from the room hit them. His eyes were closed in sleep.
D studied the other dhampir. His features looked familiar, but he dismissed that as the usual trait of one with vampire blood. If you searched back far enough in the family lines, you would find that all vampires are related in some way.
Turning his attention away from the other's face, he searched for . something. He found it, just as he had suspected. His senses were drawn to a certain amulet around the reclining dhampir's neck. To his vision, it pulsed with malevolent power.
Reaching out, he carefully passed his hand inches above its' surface. He felt a small shove as the power of the thing pushed his hand away from it. So, it was an Amulet of Holding; a powerful one, even after all this time. It held its prisoner immobile, and its power did not end there.
Concentrating, D extended his senses toward it and outward. There. It appeared that it was connected to the very foundations of the castle. It was why the old place hadn't crumbled into complete ruin long ago. If he removed it now, there was little doubt that the old structure would come crashing down around his -their- ears.
D studied the talisman carefully. The only way to remove it safely would be to know the Words of Release. Unfortunately, they could be anything. Probably something trite, if the lid puzzle was any example. Reaching out, his hand hovering well above the amulet, he ordered "Come off." Nothing happened, which wasn't much of a surprise.
{{Maybe if you asked nicely. . .}} Lefthand said snidely, some of Its' old attitude coming back. D hesitated. Well, it had worked so far. In a move too fast for most beings to follow, his right hand snapped out, seizing the amulet in a viselike grip. Power erupted under his hand, sending a red wave of pain up his arm.
Hissing slightly, he managed to inch the resisting artifact up until it was level with its' pale captive's face. Grunting with effort, shunting the agony away to the back of his mind, D struggled to move his arm against a growing tide of resistance. It was getting harder and harder by the moment to simply hold on.
His teeth were gritted in a snarl, his sharp canines bared as he pushed magically as well as physically. His eyes once more blazed a bright blue, the pupil and whites disappearing, making his eyes look like slashes of azure light. His own power blazed down his arm, blue clashing with scarlet. There was a distant sound, like a voice protesting and threatening him with total annihilation for daring to challenge it. He mentally snarled in answer, and brought the full power of his birthright and the awesome strength of his will against it.
The sound faltered, and D was unaware of his surroundings as he gave one convulsive heave with both mind and body. So absorbed was he that he didn't notice that he had an audience. The captive's eyes were open, watching. Then there was a roaring in his ears, and then nothing.
**
D awoke what felt like only moments later, stretched across the chest of someone, the top of his head brushing against the side of a hard surface. Disoriented, his survival instincts took over, banishing the still beckoning embrace of unconsciousness. Battle-honed senses had kept him alive in more disorienting situations, though even if he were able to think clearly he would be hard pressed to remembering being in one to top this.
He was facedown on top of someone, the other's steady heartbeat clear in his ears, his torso and legs dangling over the sides of the coffin. This was worse than that time father had gotten him drunk. His head spun and his hand throbbed in time with his pounding heart. Dimly, he could hear his own ragged breathing.
D shifted his arm to the edge of the casket, trying to prop himself up. He had risen only a few inches when his arm gave out and he nearly screamed at the agony, muffling the sound in his new pillow's coat. He'd have to use the hand with the Entity. He started to maneuver it into position, but stopped as he felt a pair of strong arms close around him.
Mustering the effort, D shifted his head to his left. Blue eyes met gold. *
The coffin's former solo occupant was awake and looking rather calm for someone who'd just woken up with a stranger looming over him. Curiosity warred with wariness in his eyes; feelings that mirrored D's own. They stayed like that for a few more moments.
Then the white-haired man braced himself, sitting up with the hunter still in his grasp, showing little sign of the effort of using only stomach muscles that must be stiff from disuse for the task.
Almost gently, the strange dhampir pushed D up until the hunter's feet were firmly planted on the ground and able to support him. D stood there, his left arm cradling his right as the other clambered out of his prison. Standing, he barely came to the vampire hunter's shoulder, but showed no unease about his lesser height.
They stared intently at each other, each assessing the other like wolves who have met on a forest trail. Finally the white hair broke the tense silence.
"Who are you?" He asked, his tone and the resonance of his voice even lower than D's own. What was interesting to D was the fact that he spoke in Old Romanian. He was about to respond when a sudden shock wave shook the floor, causing him to sway slightly to keep his balance. Looking up at the ceiling, he could see cracks forming, and heard the popping of ancient mortar as it crumbed. The place was coming down.
D turned to the other, intending to suggest they take the conversation elsewhere, but found him rummaging quickly in the coffin for his belongings. Taking the few pouches and a short sword, his face grimacing slightly at the small weapon, he turned back to D and jerked his head toward the door. D nodded curtly in understanding, pointing toward the floor and its still possible dangers. It would not do to be burned to ash even before the stones had a chance to crash down on them.
Golden eyes looked down, widening slightly at sight of the deadly tiles. D turned, still cradling his arm, and hopped back across his earlier path, knowing the other would follow. It was strange how confident he felt in his unexpected companion's abilities. He didn't have to worry about him slowing them down or getting into trouble. The white-haired dhampir, he was sure, could take care of himself.
D didn't bother to look back as they bolted through the disintegrating ruin and out into the waiting night.
They stopped several yards away. D noted absently that the other wasn't even breathing hard. He had been among humans so long he had expected a limitation that this man obviously didn't have. D turned and began to walk in the direction where he had tethered his horse.
**
The white-haired dhampir stood there for a moment, looking after the receding back of his rescuer. When Alucard had come out of his trance-like sleep to find someone standing over him he had been alarmed, reaching for his weapon. He had then realized that he couldn't move a finger. The amulet, that cursed amulet, still held him in its grip. That was when he noticed several things.
The first was that the stranger seemed to be trying to push the amulet over his head with sheer physical strength. Alucard had marveled that he had gotten it as far as his head. The next was the sheer power he sensed, raw and half-trained, surging from his obvious would-be rescuer. Most startling of all were the signs of a vampire heritage.
The captive half-breed had looked up into a face twisted in strain, eyes glowing like blue flames. His fangs were easily recognizable as his lips were peeled back in a snarl of effort.
Then the stranger had suddenly ripped the thing from his neck, taking a few hairs with it, not that he cared. He was free. He could feel the control of his limbs returning to him. When his rescuer had collapsed, Alucard had remained still, making sure that he wasn't going to attack him next. He didn't know why this man had gone through so much effort to free him, but he really couldn't see what his ulterior motives could be.
This close to him, and with his perceptions trickling back after their long disuse, his sense of smell confirmed what he had seen. There was vampire blood in this one, but what made his eyes widen was the equally obvious smell of human about him. He was a dhampir. He could hardly believe it. He had always viewed his existence as an accident of nature. Apparently it was one that could be repeated.
When the strange dhampir stirred and failed in his attempt to rise he decided to return the favor, taking hold of him with the intention of helping him up. Then the dark hair had turned to look at him. Alucard had met intense eyes the deep blue of the sky at twilight. The air of age and power in them was slightly shrouded by exhaustion, but nevertheless struck him with its depth. They met his steadily, and something in them seemed to strike a cord in him. An unspoken pride, almost an arrogance that he couldn't hide, that marked him as highborn as surely as his features. Features that looked disturbingly familiar.
That's when he had remembered to move, exerting the effort to sit up, and helping the man to come more easily to his feet without his having to ask.
Now as he looked after the taller dhampir, Alucard felt again that flicker of curiosity that had seized him when he realized that the other was a half- breed like himself. Deciding he had nothing better to do, he followed.
**
D returned to his camp, trying not to show how tired he was. His arm was healing, but not nearly fast enough to quell the throbbing pain. Magical wounds tended to linger more than those caused by ordinary weapons. He was glad that he'd thought ahead and gathered a plentiful supply of firewood. He didn't think he could bend over at that moment without falling, much less pick something up.
With an almost audible thump, he sat down next to the pile. Now he just had to light it.
D hadn't realized that he had been staring at the wood for some time before a pair of pale hands entered his line of sight and began to rearrange it. He didn't have to look up. He knew who it was. He had felt him follow, and had been silently impressed that he made no sound audible to even his sensitive ears.
When the newcomer whispered a spell, casting a fireball from his cape that quickly set the wood ablaze, D raised an eyebrow, something that from him would have been the equivalent of a normal person jumping in surprise. He hadn't seen that trick in a while. Few vampires even knew of it. Fewer still had the skill to use it. Jus how far back did this young-feeling-one hail from?
D realized that his mind was wandering. He was exhausted, in pain, and hungry. Very hungry. Using magic always seemed to increase the bloodlust, which was one of the reasons why he used it so seldomly. Now with his reserves of strength lessened by the difficult struggle with the magical artifact the familiar craving returned with a vengeance.
"You're hungry." A voice stated nearby. Finally looking up, D met his new acquaintance's eyes, glowing slightly red in the firelight. Looking more deeply, he felt a faint smile curve his lips. "So are you." He said, noticing the telltale gleam. He didn't blame him. He'd be absolutely starving if he had been locked in a box for as long as this man must have.
**
D blinked, realizing that he had almost nodded off. The need for sleep was presently greater than that of food, but he resisted. He was wary around others, not liking the vulnerability of sleep when in company. Constant vigilance kept you alive in a profession where lowering your guard for a moment could mean your life or worse.
But the tired part of his mind argued for sleep, reminding him that the Entity in his hand would wake him if it thought it was in danger. The idea of trusting his life to the capricious being didn't sit well with him, but he realized that he would have to sleep voluntarily or just fall over.
The other dhampir's voice cut through his mental haze, causing him to rouse slightly and turn his attention toward him.
------------------------------
Keep in mind that most of my knowledge comes from reading other fanfiction and playing Symphony of the Night. Also, this was written before I saw the second VHD. I think I'll ignore the red eyes and impossibly long teeth. I'm in my own little dream-world and I like it just fine thanks. Oh, and I've heard varying accounts on Alucard's eye color, so I just decided to go for my favorite. I know D seems a bit out of character, but this is a strange situation even for him. I bet you anything he was really *ahem * hot-blooded in his youth.
By The Unseen Watcher
Castlvania doesn't belong to me. Nor does Vampire Hunter D. I'd have to have been seriously depressed to come up with them, so I can't claim any credit. Just thought it would be interesting seeing how they might meet. Please don't sue.
Chapter 2 -----------------
The rune wavered again, this time disappearing altogether. As he broke the chains, D could make out the muffled complaints and groans of what sounded like pain from his left hand. {{That was it? That was the big clue? Whose horrible idea of a joke was that?! I've heard better material from a drunk on a four-day binge! Latrines have better written on their walls! They must have had an even worse sense of humor than YOU . . . wait a second; did you just say dhampir?}}
Lefthand's voice trailed off as the last of the chains gave way to D's deceptively slender fingers. He too was curious. The relatively simple puzzle had revealed to him what his senses had been trying to tell him all along. The unique smell/feel of human and vampire blood mixed together grew from a trace to a dominant scent as he shoved the lid aside.
*
Inside lay a man of slightly above average height. Long, white blond hair framed a pale aristocratic face. His lean frame was covered in dark clothing so old that they almost seemed to crackle with age as the air from the room hit them. His eyes were closed in sleep.
D studied the other dhampir. His features looked familiar, but he dismissed that as the usual trait of one with vampire blood. If you searched back far enough in the family lines, you would find that all vampires are related in some way.
Turning his attention away from the other's face, he searched for . something. He found it, just as he had suspected. His senses were drawn to a certain amulet around the reclining dhampir's neck. To his vision, it pulsed with malevolent power.
Reaching out, he carefully passed his hand inches above its' surface. He felt a small shove as the power of the thing pushed his hand away from it. So, it was an Amulet of Holding; a powerful one, even after all this time. It held its prisoner immobile, and its power did not end there.
Concentrating, D extended his senses toward it and outward. There. It appeared that it was connected to the very foundations of the castle. It was why the old place hadn't crumbled into complete ruin long ago. If he removed it now, there was little doubt that the old structure would come crashing down around his -their- ears.
D studied the talisman carefully. The only way to remove it safely would be to know the Words of Release. Unfortunately, they could be anything. Probably something trite, if the lid puzzle was any example. Reaching out, his hand hovering well above the amulet, he ordered "Come off." Nothing happened, which wasn't much of a surprise.
{{Maybe if you asked nicely. . .}} Lefthand said snidely, some of Its' old attitude coming back. D hesitated. Well, it had worked so far. In a move too fast for most beings to follow, his right hand snapped out, seizing the amulet in a viselike grip. Power erupted under his hand, sending a red wave of pain up his arm.
Hissing slightly, he managed to inch the resisting artifact up until it was level with its' pale captive's face. Grunting with effort, shunting the agony away to the back of his mind, D struggled to move his arm against a growing tide of resistance. It was getting harder and harder by the moment to simply hold on.
His teeth were gritted in a snarl, his sharp canines bared as he pushed magically as well as physically. His eyes once more blazed a bright blue, the pupil and whites disappearing, making his eyes look like slashes of azure light. His own power blazed down his arm, blue clashing with scarlet. There was a distant sound, like a voice protesting and threatening him with total annihilation for daring to challenge it. He mentally snarled in answer, and brought the full power of his birthright and the awesome strength of his will against it.
The sound faltered, and D was unaware of his surroundings as he gave one convulsive heave with both mind and body. So absorbed was he that he didn't notice that he had an audience. The captive's eyes were open, watching. Then there was a roaring in his ears, and then nothing.
**
D awoke what felt like only moments later, stretched across the chest of someone, the top of his head brushing against the side of a hard surface. Disoriented, his survival instincts took over, banishing the still beckoning embrace of unconsciousness. Battle-honed senses had kept him alive in more disorienting situations, though even if he were able to think clearly he would be hard pressed to remembering being in one to top this.
He was facedown on top of someone, the other's steady heartbeat clear in his ears, his torso and legs dangling over the sides of the coffin. This was worse than that time father had gotten him drunk. His head spun and his hand throbbed in time with his pounding heart. Dimly, he could hear his own ragged breathing.
D shifted his arm to the edge of the casket, trying to prop himself up. He had risen only a few inches when his arm gave out and he nearly screamed at the agony, muffling the sound in his new pillow's coat. He'd have to use the hand with the Entity. He started to maneuver it into position, but stopped as he felt a pair of strong arms close around him.
Mustering the effort, D shifted his head to his left. Blue eyes met gold. *
The coffin's former solo occupant was awake and looking rather calm for someone who'd just woken up with a stranger looming over him. Curiosity warred with wariness in his eyes; feelings that mirrored D's own. They stayed like that for a few more moments.
Then the white-haired man braced himself, sitting up with the hunter still in his grasp, showing little sign of the effort of using only stomach muscles that must be stiff from disuse for the task.
Almost gently, the strange dhampir pushed D up until the hunter's feet were firmly planted on the ground and able to support him. D stood there, his left arm cradling his right as the other clambered out of his prison. Standing, he barely came to the vampire hunter's shoulder, but showed no unease about his lesser height.
They stared intently at each other, each assessing the other like wolves who have met on a forest trail. Finally the white hair broke the tense silence.
"Who are you?" He asked, his tone and the resonance of his voice even lower than D's own. What was interesting to D was the fact that he spoke in Old Romanian. He was about to respond when a sudden shock wave shook the floor, causing him to sway slightly to keep his balance. Looking up at the ceiling, he could see cracks forming, and heard the popping of ancient mortar as it crumbed. The place was coming down.
D turned to the other, intending to suggest they take the conversation elsewhere, but found him rummaging quickly in the coffin for his belongings. Taking the few pouches and a short sword, his face grimacing slightly at the small weapon, he turned back to D and jerked his head toward the door. D nodded curtly in understanding, pointing toward the floor and its still possible dangers. It would not do to be burned to ash even before the stones had a chance to crash down on them.
Golden eyes looked down, widening slightly at sight of the deadly tiles. D turned, still cradling his arm, and hopped back across his earlier path, knowing the other would follow. It was strange how confident he felt in his unexpected companion's abilities. He didn't have to worry about him slowing them down or getting into trouble. The white-haired dhampir, he was sure, could take care of himself.
D didn't bother to look back as they bolted through the disintegrating ruin and out into the waiting night.
They stopped several yards away. D noted absently that the other wasn't even breathing hard. He had been among humans so long he had expected a limitation that this man obviously didn't have. D turned and began to walk in the direction where he had tethered his horse.
**
The white-haired dhampir stood there for a moment, looking after the receding back of his rescuer. When Alucard had come out of his trance-like sleep to find someone standing over him he had been alarmed, reaching for his weapon. He had then realized that he couldn't move a finger. The amulet, that cursed amulet, still held him in its grip. That was when he noticed several things.
The first was that the stranger seemed to be trying to push the amulet over his head with sheer physical strength. Alucard had marveled that he had gotten it as far as his head. The next was the sheer power he sensed, raw and half-trained, surging from his obvious would-be rescuer. Most startling of all were the signs of a vampire heritage.
The captive half-breed had looked up into a face twisted in strain, eyes glowing like blue flames. His fangs were easily recognizable as his lips were peeled back in a snarl of effort.
Then the stranger had suddenly ripped the thing from his neck, taking a few hairs with it, not that he cared. He was free. He could feel the control of his limbs returning to him. When his rescuer had collapsed, Alucard had remained still, making sure that he wasn't going to attack him next. He didn't know why this man had gone through so much effort to free him, but he really couldn't see what his ulterior motives could be.
This close to him, and with his perceptions trickling back after their long disuse, his sense of smell confirmed what he had seen. There was vampire blood in this one, but what made his eyes widen was the equally obvious smell of human about him. He was a dhampir. He could hardly believe it. He had always viewed his existence as an accident of nature. Apparently it was one that could be repeated.
When the strange dhampir stirred and failed in his attempt to rise he decided to return the favor, taking hold of him with the intention of helping him up. Then the dark hair had turned to look at him. Alucard had met intense eyes the deep blue of the sky at twilight. The air of age and power in them was slightly shrouded by exhaustion, but nevertheless struck him with its depth. They met his steadily, and something in them seemed to strike a cord in him. An unspoken pride, almost an arrogance that he couldn't hide, that marked him as highborn as surely as his features. Features that looked disturbingly familiar.
That's when he had remembered to move, exerting the effort to sit up, and helping the man to come more easily to his feet without his having to ask.
Now as he looked after the taller dhampir, Alucard felt again that flicker of curiosity that had seized him when he realized that the other was a half- breed like himself. Deciding he had nothing better to do, he followed.
**
D returned to his camp, trying not to show how tired he was. His arm was healing, but not nearly fast enough to quell the throbbing pain. Magical wounds tended to linger more than those caused by ordinary weapons. He was glad that he'd thought ahead and gathered a plentiful supply of firewood. He didn't think he could bend over at that moment without falling, much less pick something up.
With an almost audible thump, he sat down next to the pile. Now he just had to light it.
D hadn't realized that he had been staring at the wood for some time before a pair of pale hands entered his line of sight and began to rearrange it. He didn't have to look up. He knew who it was. He had felt him follow, and had been silently impressed that he made no sound audible to even his sensitive ears.
When the newcomer whispered a spell, casting a fireball from his cape that quickly set the wood ablaze, D raised an eyebrow, something that from him would have been the equivalent of a normal person jumping in surprise. He hadn't seen that trick in a while. Few vampires even knew of it. Fewer still had the skill to use it. Jus how far back did this young-feeling-one hail from?
D realized that his mind was wandering. He was exhausted, in pain, and hungry. Very hungry. Using magic always seemed to increase the bloodlust, which was one of the reasons why he used it so seldomly. Now with his reserves of strength lessened by the difficult struggle with the magical artifact the familiar craving returned with a vengeance.
"You're hungry." A voice stated nearby. Finally looking up, D met his new acquaintance's eyes, glowing slightly red in the firelight. Looking more deeply, he felt a faint smile curve his lips. "So are you." He said, noticing the telltale gleam. He didn't blame him. He'd be absolutely starving if he had been locked in a box for as long as this man must have.
**
D blinked, realizing that he had almost nodded off. The need for sleep was presently greater than that of food, but he resisted. He was wary around others, not liking the vulnerability of sleep when in company. Constant vigilance kept you alive in a profession where lowering your guard for a moment could mean your life or worse.
But the tired part of his mind argued for sleep, reminding him that the Entity in his hand would wake him if it thought it was in danger. The idea of trusting his life to the capricious being didn't sit well with him, but he realized that he would have to sleep voluntarily or just fall over.
The other dhampir's voice cut through his mental haze, causing him to rouse slightly and turn his attention toward him.
------------------------------
Keep in mind that most of my knowledge comes from reading other fanfiction and playing Symphony of the Night. Also, this was written before I saw the second VHD. I think I'll ignore the red eyes and impossibly long teeth. I'm in my own little dream-world and I like it just fine thanks. Oh, and I've heard varying accounts on Alucard's eye color, so I just decided to go for my favorite. I know D seems a bit out of character, but this is a strange situation even for him. I bet you anything he was really *ahem * hot-blooded in his youth.