/ULETAY/
Summary: Events of the battle at Lindenfeld take a toll on Trevor and Sypha. Both lick their wounds, only wishing to come back home; they rescue a woman from the clutches of the Inquisition, and together they stumble on yet another horror on the doorstep, as Alucard hadn't exactly had it easy, himself. Together they will have to pick up the pieces and try to find some normalcy again, as happiness seems... too much to ask.
Timeline: Post season 3 of Netflix Castlevania series. Wallachia, 1477.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slice of life. Fix-It Fic
Pairing: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades, later on Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades/Alucard Tepes.
Rating: M, MA even
Warnings: Some drastic views at the beginning of the story, as seen in the finale of season 3; references to violence, torture and abuse; a lot of swearing; alcohol abuse and withdrawal; medical stuff, if you don't like blood, don't read it; nudity, some heterosexual action here and there, eventually threesome so that everyone can finally be happy. One invented character I pulled out of thin air, but apart from that - everyone is pretty canon.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Castlevania. I'm just fangirling over it.
Author's Notes:
1. It's all because of the self-quarantine and binging on the show 4 times in a row, who of thou is without blame shalt throw the stone.
2. See bottom of the page for explanations of words in parenthesis. Title means "fly away" and comes from "Prince Igor" by Aleksandr Borodin. It inspired me to imagine a whole new world of acceptance and comfort to our favorite soft vampire. Season 3 broke me
CHAPTER 1
"Is this… what I think it is, or... ?"
Trevor kept staring at the entrance to the castle, his eyes squinted in effort as his sluggish, alcohol-infused brain supplied him with a morbid view. Just next to the huge doors, on both sides of the terrace atop the stairs, there were two stakes. Bloodied wood was sticking out obscenely from the mouths of the victims, a man and a woman, nothing more than rotting corpses now, dried in the sun, weathered by the wind, spreading horrible, putrid smell all over the place. Trevor couldn't stop staring. He couldn't believe his eyes. His whole perception of it must have been wrong; it couldn't, just couldn't be what he was seeing.
"No. Delirium tremens. It can't be." He said somberly.
"You said that man was your friend."
There was a woman sitting on the driver's seat next to Trevor. Her eyes were just as wide, just as terrified, at the grotesque sight in front of them.
"He is."
"No shit." she said in a panicked voice. "No, Trevor, this is just insane. Let's turn around before she wakes up. Just… let's get out of here. Now."
"No." Trevor swallowed thickly, shaking his head slowly and glancing briefly at Sypha, sleeping in the back of the wagon. "No. I have to know what happened."
He tossed the reigns to the woman and jumped down ungracefully. "What are you going to do, huh? Just… knock at the front door? Trevor, kurwa, just stop! Think!" the woman hissed at him. "What if he decides that he would much rather stake us three next to them motherfuckers than invite you to tea? You're not alone here! I'm no good in a fight, and Sypha, she's just… she's in no shape for that!"
"Look, I don't know! But it's not like him, something must have happened!" Trevor began to walk towards the castle. "Take the cart back to the ruins of the estate. I'll find you there," he said.
He didn't need to say it twice. The woman departed immediately, urging the horses to a trot with a sharp hit with the leather reigns. She shot a couple of terrified glances around her; the forest was silent, which wasn't unnatural for such an early hour, but in her mind it almost thickened with the very purpose of engulfing their wagon. The darkness didn't really make it easier, every shadow and every crooked tree looked suspicious now; it was barely starting to dawn. The horses were agitated, difficult to get control over. Sensitive to magic, they must have felt unnerved by the mere vicinity of Dracula's castle. The woman took a deeper breath; she had to control herself. The ominous structure was just a building, nothing else. Even if there was a spell on it, they never approached it close enough to be affected. We're getting out of here, she thought, giving the horses another sharp rush, reaching with her right hand to the floor of the cart. She picked up a small axe and put it on her lap.
She knew very well that if a vampire wanted to attack her and Sypha an axe would be absolutely useless. But the cold and heavy feeling on her lap was oddly comforting.
She could feel the hair on her nape rise in dread as goosebumps covered her skin. It was probably just the cold gust of wind, nothing more. She could feel eyes boring into her back, following her every movement. But it was probably only her imagination.
As the ruins of Belmont Estate loomed closer and the sun begun to rise, the shadows relented for a bit. The forest started to stir. Birds awoke with the cacophony of completely natural, unabashed chirping, and as the wind moved the branches, it brought in ordinary scents of herbs and grass and mold, but nothing else. The cart turned to enter a clearing in front of the charred carcass of the imposing structure of what had once been a mansion.
The cold dread made way for a shred of hope, as the woman saw that there would be a suitable place among the ruins to make camp. The wagon bumped on the road, as the horses were directed towards what was left of the building and entered a more uneven ground. The sudden movement woke Sypha, who stirred behind the driver's seat and elicited a faint moan out of her.
Finally the wagon stopped. The sun appeared in all of its golden glory, bathing the clearing with comforting, warm rays.
The woman sighed with relief; somehow it was harder to imagine a vampire attacking them in the bright of day.
"Ksenia…?" Sypha moaned from the wagon, rising to a sitting position. "Are we there yet…?"
"Yes, darling, we have just arrived," the woman said, climbing onto the wagon next to Sypha. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," she answered, rubbing her eyes. "Where's Trevor?"
"Not far. Are you dizzy? Nauseous?"
"No," Sypha answered. "I'm fine, Ksenia."
"Can I see your leg first?" the woman asked, and Sypha nodded sleepily, pushing aside the blankets and cloaks to show the gash on her thigh, once bright red and bleeding, now reduced to just an abrasion. "Looks good. I think we can safely discard the bandage now. Just remember to keep it clean and dry."
"Why have we stopped here?" Sypha asked, looking out of the wagon. "Why not at the castle?"
"Trevor went there to investigate a little," Ksenia said, preparing a couple of packages to unpack. "He told me to bring the wagon here. He'll be back in a minute."
"So… Alucard didn't come out to meet us…?" Sypha asked, disbelieving. "I… I better go check."
"Wait, Sypha. Let Trevor do this. Why won't you…"
"No, I need to see Alucard," Sypha said and brushed unruly hair out of her eyes. She grabbed her cloak and clambered out of the cart.
"Sypha, stop!" the woman called after her in that strange, sharp accent she had. "Stop! Look, just help me down first," she mumbled. Sypha stopped in her tracks, came back, and grabbed the woman's waist to provide her with extra stability as she was jumping from the wagon. The woman's right foot was injured, wrapped heavily in rags to stiffen it.
"Are you going to be ok?" Sypha asked, making sure the woman can stand.
"Yes, thank you. Look, don't go. I don't think it wise to split up like that. Let's wait for Trevor to come back. And you can help me with setting up the camp."
"But we don't need to set the camp. We'll be staying in the castle."
Ksenia's look was weird. Sypha suddenly felt a sting of unease.
"What… what did you see there? What's wrong with the castle?" She asked worriedly, trying to catch her eyes and dissect some truth. "Why are we making a camp?"
"I'm just not entirely sure it's safe here," Ksenia answered evasively.
Sypha made a small, impatient sound. "Look, Alucard is our friend. You really don't need to be afraid of him. We wouldn't bring you to a place we didn't think was safe, not after what happened to you," she explained. "You don't need to to set up the camp. I'll go check on Trevor, he has probably found Alucard already and... and I just need to see him," Sypha patted Ksenia's shoulder fondly, threw her Speaker cloak around her and all but sprinted in the direction of Dracula's fortress, deaf to any pleas. Ksenia shook her head and moaned in frustration; the gruesome sight that is going to greet her there will probably shatter her poor heart, and Ksenia did not look forward to nursing her back to health again after she loses consciousness and refuses to eat or speak for days straight. She kicked the back of the wagon in anger.
It probably was not the wisest thing to set the horses free or start unpacking. They may yet need the wagon to be ready to go.
But ready to go where…?
/*/
Trevor came back with Sypha hanging from his arm, in a state of immobilized shock fluctuating into sudden bouts of hyperactivity, where she wanted to run and search for Alucard calling him by his name, or go back to the castle and forcefully burst the doors open with explosive force to be able to investigate the interior. Trevor's hands were shaking more than usual, and the first thing he did upon return was reaching for a bottle from the back of the wagon, sitting heavily in the middle of the fractured, tiled floor of the ruined building and spitting out the cork.
"Home sweet home," he muttered, taking a solid gulp. "Fuck my life."
Ksenia grimaced at this, but trying to hide the alcohol or dispose of it wouldn't really work on Trevor, as she has already pre established. "Are we staying?" she asked the question that seemed of key importance.
"Yes," Sypha answered, turning to her. "We are not leaving until we see him. We are not leaving until we know what happened." Ksenia nodded, acknowledging her agitation, but glanced at Trevor in need of a second opinion.
"We're staying," Trevor rasped. "We'll make camp here."
His face was carefully blank, but she could see the aggravation in his eyes. They were clouded with worry and anger, and something else, something darker, something like his own personal demon as he swept a look around the rubble surrounding him. He gulped down a third of the bottle in one go and grit his teeth so hard that she could hear it.
Ksenia sighed heavily, bringing a hand to her forehead. Alright then. Camping.
"I suggest we should sleep in there, it still has a roof and is secluded enough," she said. "I'll take care of the horses first. Is there any source of fresh water?
Trevor nodded.
"There is a stream behind the house, in the forest. You'll see the path."
"Am I safe to go there, though?"
Trevor didn't answer for a longer while.
"You should be."
Ksenia sighed and stared at the blue sky above her, visible through the charred beams and metal rods, spreading from the blackened walls of the Belmont estate like ribs. She considered her options.
"Very well." she said and settled for making camp.
Neither Sypha, nor Trevor moved an inch as she started working. They sat far away from each other, not looking, not talking; each had their own lot to process. Their suffering was almost palpable in the air, so Ksenia just settled for taking care of the horses first, unable to watch them, quite upset herself. She took comfort in the presence of the two animals, and with some relief she noted that they were now completely unaffected; all of the effects that the dark castle had on them evaporated, and fond of being free of the rig, they trotted happily towards the greener grass of the meadow to nibble on it.
Sypha moved finally and stood up to gather some firewood. Her face was sullen, but at least she stopped panicking and moving around in frightened patterns of a cornered mouse. Ksenia welcomed the assistance and was glad that Sypha picked the task which required more walking. Her foot was throbbing with stinging, disturbing, hard to endure pain.
Soon they conjured a small pile of fuel and a bonfire, set up a kettle over it and started to go through the provisions to determine if any dinner was in sight. It didn't look grim, but it didn't look great either.
They needed water.
"Look, Sypha," Ksenia started. "I absolutely hate to leave you like this. But I need to take a better care of all… this," she gestured to herself and Sypha immediately nodded, knowing that Ksenia had some injuries as well, which she has been treating on the road to the best of her ability. "And we need water, both to drink and for some soup later on. If we're camping, we can just as well eat something proper and get some rest."
"Maybe I should bring the water from the stream," Sypha said quietly. "Your foot…"
"But I need to clean it up, dear. I'm gonna be a while." Ksenia sighed, reaching for Sypha's arms to give them a reassuring squeeze. "Tell me how you feel. Are you going to be alright?"
Sypha sighed and turned around to take a look at Trevor, who finished the bottle and curled on the parquet, asleep or dozing off. She gave Ksenia a brave nod, even though her eyes were full of defeat.
"He's gonna come to, you know." Ksenia said. "I've seen it so often, it's a bender. It's gonna stop eventually. Once it does, we're going to make sure that he never touches liquor again. The two of us."
Sypha just stood there, her arms dangling defenselessly at her sides. "I… I cannot get through to him," she whispered. "He's not listening. And I cannot find Alucard. I can't do a single thing right."
"You can. You do. It's going to be alright. Trevor is going to come to his senses. We are going to find your friend." But do we really want to find him, that's the question. "Were you able to establish anything back there? Any of what happened?"
"Well…" Sypha shuddered. "There were cuts on their throats, identical, left by the same kind of tool. Probably a sword. It could have been the real cause of death, not the…. Trevor says they were put on stakes afterwards. Like a… like on display, as a warning sign not to approach. The castle is closed. We couldn't get in. Maybe he is in there… we were calling. If he heard us, he didn't want to come out" she recounted.
"I see. Well, regardless of what actually killed them, it is obviously a warning sign." Ksenia hesitated. "They are not that badly decomposed… They couldn't have been there very long."
"Trevor says the same. Something happened to Alucard, and it was not long ago." Sypha wrapped her arms around herself, her shudder deepening. Ksenia reached out to pull her into a hug.
"Don't think about it now, you'll just make yourself go crazy. We don't know what happened; it could be anything, maybe it was not your friend who spiked them in the first place. Maybe he is simply not here, maybe he had to run. Maybe all this happened in his absence, and… shit, what if there is another vampire in the castle?"
"I highly doubt that," Sypha said seriously. "Alucard is powerful. I don't see him losing to another easily. But if so..."
Ksenia grimaced. "If so, we are safe in the daylight. And we're going to have to infiltrate the castle at some point. But now just try to rest. We're no good like this, travelling like madmen, no stops for eight days straight. And he needs to sober up," Ksenia pointed a finger to the mess that used to be Trevor Belmont. "I'll bring you some ice cold water which you can personally dump on that idiot. How's that?"
Sypha let out a huff of humorless laughter.
"Sounds good."
"I'll be right back, Sypha. It's going to be alright, you'll see."
Sypha just nodded and squeezed Ksenia's hand briefly. She moved to add fuel to the fire, and Ksenia hobbled towards the small path she could see leading behind the Belmont Estate and into the woods.
/*/
The feeling of icy cold water of the forest stream was soothing. At least that was working as planned.
Ksenia cursed under her breath. She was standing stark naked with one foot in the stream - the foot with massacred toes, which needed cleansing and tending to - and the other foot on the ground, still in a tall boot that Trevor stole for her. She was trying to clean up and tend to the wounds on her body in a more proper manner, removing the makeshift bandages, haste wrappings and other half-measures she had to apply on the road, and in that task the clothes were only a hindrance, so she simply got rid of them altogether. On the bank of the stream she had a hard lump of lye soap ready, laying on a more or less clean shawl, which meant to act like a towel.
She was irritated beyond herself at the only thread she could find and an old fish hook, slightly more blunt than she would have wanted, which she was using as a needle. She was trying to stitch the gash on her left side, just above the hip bone, still open, bleeding and painfully ripe. She simply could not keep quiet through a painstaking and utterly unpleasant process of stitching herself up.
"A niech cię cholera weźmie(1)," She cursed again in that strange, foreign tongue, louder, as her fingers slipped and she hurt herself. "Just… fucking work, you useless thing." Her hands were trembling and she grunted with effort, trying to shift her weight to a more comfortable position without slipping on the slick, polished pebbles in the stream.
The birds above her, in a green canopy of sparkling sun-drenched leaves, were singing and whistling in a symphony of spring. It was warm. At least she wasn't uncomfortable spending so much time naked in the open air. She sighed and looked back down on the gash, irritated red and swollen, itchy beyond belief.
She wiped the blood that trickled down her buttock and thigh with a rag she was holding under her arm. She cursed again at the pain of tightening the stitches.
"Kurwa mać." She mumbled, making the last stitch and pulling the hemp thread through her flesh on both sides of the gash. "Ooooh. I just fucking… hate… this. And priests. I swear I'm never going to look at one without spitting, ever again."
She finished the stitch, tying it off; irritated at her shaking hands and the lack of composure, she threw her fish hook and thread away on a pile of things and braced her upper body on her thighs. She felt lightheaded and weak. After a while, she sighed, wiped angrily at the tears that spilled from the corner of her eye and turned slowly, trying not to put too much strain on her wounded side. She glanced over her shoulder to find her reflection in the shallow water; looking at her back she saw a net of scabbed criss-crossing marks, red welts and lacerations that were, in places, still seeping plasma and blood. She cursed, shaking her head, kicked off the boot and went into the stream fully, wincing at the cold, but knowing she has to clean herself up properly.
A big, white wolf approached warily through the bushes and stopped, unmoving, at the edge of the clearing.
"Oh, hello", Ksenia said in a strained voice. "Look at you, a visitor. Where is your pack? Are you lost?"
She did not seem to be afraid of the creature eyeing her carefully, nor did she freeze in an anticipation of an attack. She sighed and skimmed her palm over a burn on her forehand, not really able to do anything about it beside sticking it in the cold water. She reached for the soap.
"You're just gonna stand there, huh?" she turned to the wolf. "Either run along or drink, I won't do anything."
The wolf sit down. He did not even blink, still looking her straight in the eye. She had a strange accent.
"Audience, then." She sighed. "Well, fuck." Splashing the water when trying to get more comfortable and sit in the stream, she started hissing and snorting at how cold the water was. Even if it was doing wonders for her inflamed foot, the rest of the body did not appreciate to be frozen so and her skin immediately covered in goosebumps. She decided to be quicker about it all. She reached for her ankle and started palpating it. Swollen, strained, in need of proper setting and stiffening the foot.
"You... wanna know… what I… oh, kurwa… What I think?" She asked the wolf behind her, manipulating the tender, aching foot.
"I think the Priest of Sybim is a pig-fucker, shit eater and a nasty fat cockwart", she hissed in the water, abandoning the ankle and lathering her arms quickly. "He likes altar boys. He would also eat everything that doesn't run, that fat pig. And he has the most disgusting breath."
The wolf was listening passively. He lowered his muzzle a little, trying to catch her scent. She shifted in the water, having washed her upper body, trying to get a better look at the rest of her legs. Bruises, mostly. But she had to man up and set the foot. She shook her head.
"He wouldn't be satisfied with just whipping me. He wouldn't stop at the fucking Spanish boot, kurwa jego jebana mać (2). No. He had to gather a fucking congregation of priests, that old, deaf prior even, to 'assess for the Satan's mark' on me when I was strung on the rack. All my joints are just… oh, fuck it hurts… just… useless," she grunted, leaning down and pulling her ankle down to pop into place, and it did, with a dull sound mostly swallowed up by the water. The foot was now at a more normal angle, but the swelling was still substantial.
"I hate the Spanish," she mewled, lifting up her foot and looking closer at her bloody, mangled toes, which looked like one big, ragged wound. "Why would they even invent a device like that."
She splashed the foot back to the water. She sighed, looked back to spy for any slippery or potentially sharp stones, and leaned back slowly, allowing the flowing water to clean her back and the inflamed side she has just stitched. A hiss, a sigh and a curse escaped her.
"And that acolyte. The, you know, the fuckin'… that bald one." She continued, having propped herself up on both elbows and allowing her head to drop back. " Oh, that one was really friendly. Real, real friendly. Liked to play with fire, that blunt dick. Melted wax and the like. Romantically inclined, you see. What an absolute lad" she sighed, and it sounded more like a sob; as if the brave facade was leaving her, as if she was close to crying. But no more sounds came forth; she just sniffed quietly after a while of blank staring and turned her gaze at the wolf.
"You must have been drawn here by the scent of blood, weren't you."
The animal shifted. As if uncertain whether to stay or run away, it stood up and just sniffed for more of her scent. Then it started coming closer, looking at the scattered things on the ground. Bloodied bandages.
"I am disturbing your stream, I know. I'm sorry," the woman said quietly. "Please don't be cross with me. I just wanted to be... clean. For once."
The wolf threw his head to the side and started approaching, as if he decided upon something. He came really close. Almost to the bank of the stream. Ksenia frowned; it was a weird encounter from the beginning, but now the animal's behaviour was plainly strange.
She saw weird marks on the wolf's fur. As if it were criss-crossing, thin, but widely spaced strips of bald skin, or maybe still pink wounds. Did it fall into snares or something? Ksenia wondered.
"Aren't you a peculiar wolf," she whispered. "Are you sure you are… a wolf?"
Ksenia slowly lifted a hand from where she held it beneath the water surface and steadily, gently moved it toward the animal. Her face was concerned, her eyes compassionate, but in that instant the wolf snapped at her angrily, turned away and in one fluid motion disappeared into the foliage.
"Mhm," she hummed to herself. She should tell Sypha about this.
/*/
"Alucaaaaard!" Sypha called, running through the sparse forest surrounding the Belmont estate. "Alucaaard! Please!"
She did realize the chances of finding him like that were slim to say the least. She was running chaotically, without any plan or pattern, just to cover some ground, just to spring into action, just to do *something*. It didn't matter what, at this point.
She understood that in his wolf form he could, in theory, be a mile away by now. She realized that valuable time passed from the moment Alucard had shown himself to Ksenia and her getting back to them, limping back from the stream to the ruins of Belmont estate, where Trevor moved the rubble away from the middle of the only standing structure which would give any shelter and started a small fire. Sypha realized all that, and also other things. Her yelling like that - Alucard would hear her before she had any real chance to see him and run in the exactly opposite direction. If he did not want to talk, then he wouldn't. She couldn't force him, she could not reason with him. She realized that she's just mechanically trying to tire herself, to force her body into stillness after a frantic, hysterical search mission which would bring no result. Sypha just *had* to go through the motions.
"Alucard!" She tried one more time, her throat sore by now. "Alucard," she complained, feeling her voice breaking. "Alucard, please. I just want to see you. I need to know you're alright."
He probably was not alright. His *not* being alright here was evident, but she did not *know* the extent of what is not right with her friend and it frustrated her to the core. Was he hurt? Physically? Was he in pain? Why did he decide to roam the forest in a wolf' skin, why did he abandon the castle he said himself cannot stand empty? How long would it go on for? Could he even regain his human form? What exactly happened?
Sypha jumped over a log. She couldn't stop, all the frantic thoughts spurred her on, forced her to go faster, to yell louder, to plead and call to him in desperation.
Nothing. Just the forest. Regular forest, full of sounds, birds, musky in the humid air.
She growled and turned left, deeper into the thicket. Now she couldn't run anymore, her robes tangling in the branches, her hair catching on small twigs. She settled for a trek, calling Alucard every other while, trying to look around, to spot anything white, bending a lot to avoid bigger branches.
"Alucaaaaard!"
Sypha thought she heard something, and whipped around in place, trying to see if she was right. But no, nothing happened, it must have been a loose twig falling to the ground. She looked down, thigh deep in shrubs, and shook her head at her own stupidity. A wolf would not choose a path so thickly overgrown, she should return to the previous route. Trying to get out from the shrubs, which kept pulling at her Speaker robes with a nasty set of thorns all of a sudden, she finally stumbled in her efforts and earned a hit to the eye with one stubborn, flexible branch she pushed aside with too much fervor. Pain exploded in her face as she fell to the ground, and it was all that was needed to send her spiralling into an angry, exhausted and frustrated fit of crying. She wept at it all, the inability to locate her friend, who obviously was in anguish, the inability to get out of this fucking bush, even. She cried and cried, her small lithe body wracked with sobs, her small fist connecting with the ground in helpless, messy hits. She felt like throwing a fireball. She felt like screaming, like incinerating this whole forest, if only it would help her spot a white wolf somewhere. She felt like wreaking havoc and terror, or turning the whole structure of Dracula's castle into a pile of stones, of rubbish, of nothing.
It went on for a little while, Sypha feeling more and more lost in this powerful feeling of anger; but slowly her sobs quietened, leaving only a strong, terrible tremble at her shoulders. She went still on the ground, sniffling and trying to shut her eyes at all of the surroundings. Alucard was gone. Nowhere to be found. Hurting. Alone.
Why, oh why did they leave him then.
It was all her idea. It was her who wanted to go on an adventure.
She mewled quietly, curling on the ground in a little ball of sadness.
"Adrian…" she cried. "Adrian. Please. Adrian."
Nothing.
Sypha squeezed her eyes shut.
"I'm here", a quiet voice responded. Sypha whipped her head up and saw Alucard leaning on a tree trunk, a little too far away from her, as if he was deliberately trying to put some distance between them. Relief flooded her mind first; he responded, he was here, Alucard, her friend. She called his name again, desperately trying to get to her feet and failing, the accursed thorny bushes still catching on her robes. With a scream of pure annoyance she conjured two flames from her hands and cut the offending bushes away from her legs, destroying a wide sweep of foliage as she did so. Alucard did not react. She got out of the thicket and was about to literally throw herself over him, but he raised a single finger in a gesture of warning, stopping her in her tracks.
He did not wish to be touched.
"Adrian", she whispered, taking in his appearance. He did not look good. His clothes were filthy. Smears of mud and dirt staining his pants, his usually impeccable shirt. Hair matted, without their usual sheen, in a disarray of tangled strands down his back. His eyes were red and puffy. Lips chapped. He looked positively white, unhealthy, and thinner than she remembered.
"We were looking everywhere for you," she said quietly, staring. "We were worried sick."
"Why are you here?" was the only response.
Sypha blinked rapidly. "We told you we will be back…" she said quietly. Alucard did not move. "Adrian, we were always intending to come back, you know that. And… we decided… oh, we just wanted to be home again."
The forest fell strangely silent after the vampire appeared. Alucard was silent himself. He didn't say a word, he just kept looking at her from his spot, never letting her eyes avert, searching for something in her gaze. Sypha could tell something is definitely not right. But it was Alucard. Her friend. There was no reason why she should be wary of him. She shook her head and sighed, regaining her composure. She took a decisive step forward, but Alucard flinched and lifted his hand in a stopping gesture.
"Sypha, do not come closer."
She could only stare back in shock. "Why?!" She asked, truly hurt. "Are you afraid of me, or are you saying it is me who should be afraid of you? Why cannot I even greet my friend? Why are you running around the forest as a wolf? The castle is empty and there are two stakes in front of it! We are worried, we came back after everything, everything, EVERYTHING went wrong and I cannot even hug my friend! What is going on?!" She yelled at him, waving her hands in the air. "Adrian, please!"
Alucard stared back. Frankly, he didn't expect an outburst like that. Something stirred in him, a feeble, fleeting urge to change the way it was playing out, to comfort her as he saw her tremble, but he decided otherwise and kept to his tree. He lowered his challenging gaze, though.
"Adrian, talk to me." Sypha said, in a calm voice this time. "Please, talk to me. I'm gonna stay here, if you want, but just… just say something."
Adrian sighed. It was Sypha. It was wrong to act like that with her. It was Sypha, after all.
"What happened on the road?" Adrian asked, moving from his spot and coming a little bit closer. He was tired. Movement seemed like an unnecessary politeness, but he understood that Sypha expected some form of reaction. Her face fell.
"It… couldn't have gone more wrong," she said quietly. She wanted to focus on him, but apparently that was not happening, so she would gladly open first if that made the dhampir reconsider, or at least prolong the conversation. She let her arms hung defenselessly down her sides. "For a while life was great, we had adventures, we were fighting the night creatures and helping the villagers. But then… we stumbled upon a small town. Lindenfeld. We… I, actually… because I talked Trevor into it… I…" she hesitated, her voice wavering. "I bit off much more than I could chew. Because of our failure all of the town is dead. All of the people. Everybody, just wiped out. And then this Judge…" Sypha's hands suddenly started trembling, and as she lifted them to her face to wipe off the cold sweat, Alucard could see it clear as day that she is really, really upset. His hand twitched as if to reach out for her.
"The Judge of Lindenfeld was a perverted, sick psychopath, he was… the true monster. Even worse than the one we fought. Worse, because he was human. And I will never… unsee it. I will never forget it. I'm… I'm… Oh, God. I just wanted to be somewhere safe. Somewhere good. And… Trevor has nightmares. He's drinking again. I… I don't know what to do. And you... " she sobbed. Alucard felt a sting in his chest, like a pang of guilt. She's gonna cry, he thought.
"And you… and you… Alucard…" Sypha sobbed, covered her face with her hands and fell to her knees, crying. Heavy tremors wracked her small body as she wept, in terrible spasms, and Alucard just stood there like an idiot because he had never, ever seen Sypha cry before. This powerful magician who would not back off in the face of the greatest vampire overlord, who was tossing mountains of ice and conjuring walls of fire on a whim was now weeping like a hurt, scared, young girl that she was.
Adrian was speechless.
He finally moved in his stupor, wiped his brow with a sigh and gathered all the remaining bits and pieces of his patience to force his body to act. It was Sypha. It was his friend. Dear, good Sypha, crying, expecting him to get together and *help* her.
Somehow this was a comforting thought. *He* certainly was hurting himself, and desperately wanted *them*, to care, to be here, to help, but once Alucard has seen Trevor and Sypha travelling through the land and approaching the castle, it was suddenly so unimaginably harder to accept their attention than he previously thought. So when it was Sypha who turned to him for help instead, he found it easier.
He sat down next to her on the grass and hesitantly put a hand on top of her own.
She stirred and lifted her teary face up from her knees. She looked very fragile, tired and spent, she looked as if in pain. Alucard wordlessly gripped her hand a bit tighter, his face still blank.
But his eyes were a shade warmer now. He cared.
Sypha sniffed loudly and bit her lower lip in distress.
"You don't want us here. You don't want us to be back." She said finally. A statement, not a question.
Alucard sighed. "I *do* want you here."
"Then why won't you talk to us? You did not even show yourself."
"Sypha…" he started, but trailed off. He wanted to bring up the disturbing notion of two dead bodies rotting on pikes in front of his door, and what they must think, and what commentary Trevor must have made, but somehow he couldn't. He wanted to blurt out: 'you left me here', but couldn't bear to cause her any more anguish. Her face crumpled in another wave of tears anyway.
"They came to harm you, right? They attacked you," Sypha sobbed.
Alucard did not know what to say. Oh, how foolish of him. She must have seen the wound on his wrist. She just added two and two.
"...yes." he said with exertion.
"We never should have left," she whispered, lowering her face again. "We should have stayed with you. Longer. Or just simply stayed. It's all my fault. It's all me.. Trevor wanted to stay… He didn't know what he wanted… It's on me," she mewled.
Alucard's heart skipped a beat when he heard the remark about Trevor, whose reaction he dreaded the most. Not because he was afraid of the confrontation itself; rather of the consequences. He dreaded the accusing look on his face, the words he would spit out at him, the retreating figure of a man whom he valued and considered a friend, but who would rather put him down than stay after seeing the two stakes. Alucard expected hatred, fear, or rage. What he saw instead was Sypha crying, desperately trying to search him out, inquiring about his wounds, regretting leaving him, admitting a mistake. And she just told him that Trevor originally preferred to stay with him, but got convinced not to. A part of him was screaming to not let himself be deceived again, to just leave, to push the humans away in self-preservation, which surely must be smarter, but his hands moved on their own accord.
He grabbed Sypha's wrists, pried them away from her face, and helped her stand. Steadying her gently, he let out a small sigh.
"Sypha, please. Stop crying. I cannot see you like that. I just can't… I can't take it. Please, Sypha."
She did her best to calm down, nodding, wiping away the tears which still kept flowing. She was so distraught, her face red and puffy, lips quivering, swollen. She gave him a sad, dispirited look.
"Sypha, I won't lie to you. I am not alright. I cannot offer you a lot in terms of consolation. I wouldn't know how." He hung his head, trying to search for words. "But… if you wanted to come home…"
"That's all we wanted," Sypha whispered, "home, and you. Us three together again. Safe."
It sounded like a child's rhyme, almost. Unconscious list of nouns that constituted an idea about what they wanted, what they needed the most. Alucard clenched his teeth and swallowed hard; maybe he was lost in his own pain. Maybe he underestimated how his friends were affected, too - by unknown factors, unknown assailants. Maybe instead of running from them, he should consider finding out what has happened to them. Do what Sypha just did.
"Come," he said simply. "We should… join Trevor. You need to calm down, and you both need some sleep."
He moved to turn around and go towards the castle, but Sypha did not budge; his outstretched hand was kept firmly in her small, warm, wet hands. He looked at her.
"Adrian, if you want us gone, just say so. We came with hope to be home again, but if you need space, if you feel bad with us here, if we…"
"I told you it's not the case."
"We don't want to hurt you," she stated bluntly. "We don't want our presence to be a burden. If we are just that, a burden, or guests, then I…"
"Sypha, just come with me please. I'm exhausted."
She fell silent at this revelation. Her lips were pressed together in a thin, trembling line.
"I do want you to stay. Stay. It's just… things happened, and…" he couldn't bring himself to finish.
"Just stay." he said finally.
Sypha wiped the tears away from her face and moved to level with him. They walked in silence.
/*/
The camp loomed before them. It was dark already and Sypha could notice a weak gleam of orange light coming from a fire, casting a warm glow around the remnants of the walls and blackened beams of the mansion; Trevor and Ksenia have done some work in terms of setting up a small space to sleep. They also took care of the horses, who were unstrung from the cart, walking lazily in some vicinity of the camp and nibbling on the fresh grass. The caravan they have travelled in was unloaded, acting like another wall and at least some sort of wind protection. The pleasant smell of a meal reached them. Ksenia must have been cooking something. They could see her moving around, mixing something in the kettle over the fire and reaching for various things from the wagon.
Alucard sighed. He dreaded the encounter to come.
Soon he noticed that a big, huddled figure rose from the ground and started to stumble in their direction. He recognized the dirty fur collar of Belmont's cloak. Sypha didn't stop to talk with Trevor; she let go of Alucard's hand and passed Trevor by, without so much as a glance in his direction. The man stopped in front of Alucard and swayed a little.
Alucard took in his appearance. Trevor was barely standing, obviously drunk. The offending smell of digested alcohol hung wrapped around him like a cloud. He was absolutely filthy, not only with typical dust and dirt from the days of travelling, but also from old blood staining his clothes, which he didn't even bother to change. He looked at Alucard, putting an effort to focus his eyes, swayed on his feet again.
"...You look like…" they both started at the same time. Alucard trailed off, and Trevor gave out a short, bark-like laugh, shaking his head.
No further words.
"I look like shit, I know," Alucard offered finally. "You, on the other hand, smell like one. With an awful lot of moonshine."
Trevor sighed, his head hung down. "Trouble sleeping," he mumbled. "Pay no attention. Hey, I saw your house decor. Gotta say, it's rather… On point," he said, turning away from the dhampir and hobbling back towards the fire to sit ungracefully on the weathered bedroll. Alucard just stared.
Sypha shook her head at him but did not comment, obviously too tired to care by now. She sat close to the fire too, encircling her knees with her hands and trying not to look at Belmont.
"Alucard, this is Ksenia," she said quietly, turning to introduce the woman they had saved to Adrian. "Ksenia, this is our friend, Adrian Tepes."
"We have met," the woman said casually, leaning down to pour a portion of thick soup to a bowl, using a wooden ladle. She handed the bowl to the dhampir, looking him straight in the eye. "Though it's nice to finally be able to greet each other properly." She smiled.
Alucard hesitated, but accepted the bowl. The soup smelled very nice. He realized he did not have a morsel of real food in his mouth for days.
The woman reached for another bowl from the wagon, limping heavily and avoiding her bad foot. Alucard noticed she had stiffened the leg with torn strips of fabric and pieces of wood; yet regardless of obvious discomfort, she moved around efficiently, pouring another bowl and handing it to Sypha, who accepted it gratefully. She inhaled the scent with a small smile.
"You're amazing," she said quietly. "How did you manage this?"
"I shot a pigeon," Ksenia said simply, pointing towards a bow hanging on the side of the wagon. "Not much in terms of meat, but it should make a perfectly palatable soup. We had some root vegetables too and I found nettle in the forest. Even baby sorrel."
"Nettle…?" Sypha muttered, a bit surprised.
"Yes," Ksenia prepared a third bowl. "It's great for many things, tea, soup, medicine. Eat, my dear. You look like you need it."
The third bowl went into the tight grip of Belmont, who was staring at the burning fire absentmindedly. Ksenia handed him a spoon non-too gently and in clear wording ordered him to eat. He looked like in a haze, but he listened to her and his hand started to move in a steady pattern to and from the bowl and into his mouth. Sypha shook her head, drowning her hurt look in the depths of her own meal.
They were eating in silence for a couple of minutes. Alucard chanced a look at the poorly stiffened foot again, which did not go unnoticed; Ksenia covered her legs with a wide skirt promptly, and settled in with her bowl to eat.
"So, the horses are tended to. Trevor unpacked the wagon. After we eat this, I suggest to find some rest for today," Ksenia said quietly to Sypha, who was blowing air on her spoon. "Do we set up a watch for the night or…?"
"I don't think we need it," Sypha said. "Alucard? Should we set up a watch?"
Dhampir stirred.
"...Nno," he said quietly. "People do not come close to my castle."
He expected a remark about how it might have something to do with the two bodies on display in front of the fortress, but nothing of the sort happened; neither from Ksenia, who focused on her bowl with an agreeing nod, nor from Trevor, who was unnaturally quiet. After a short moment of scrutiny Alucard came to the conclusion that he is simply asleep.
"Is he sleeping?" he muttered quietly. That stirred the two women, Sypha letting out a small, tired gasp at the sight. Ksenia lifted a hand closer to Trevor's face and snapped her fingers.
"Trevor. Eat your soup. Now," she demanded, and he started lifting the spoon again to his mouth, as if torn from a trance or a stupor. Sypha sighed and moved to stand up, but Ksenia stopped her gently. "Eat yours first. Then you'll help him. Think about yourself a little," she said.
Trevor's spoon stopped in mid-air. He gave Alucard a long, intense, but mostly absent stare, as if he was looking over him rather than at him. Adrian suddenly felt very uncomfortable, seeing Trevor like this.
"It's good to see you," he said in a hoarse voice. "I missed you, you vampire bastard."
Alucard realized that Belmont must be much more drunk than he previously suspected; and to say something like that with a straight face he must have been indeed full as a boot. Alucard felt cold dread creep up his spine. He shot a glance at Sypha and the other woman. Sypha didn't say anything, just put down her mostly empty bowl and stood up to help Trevor with his meal. She took off his ridiculous coat for better access, and stroking his back and cooing gentle words made him turn to her and focus on supplying his body this little amount of nourishment it really needed. He hiccupped loudly and obediently started eating, not looking at Alucard anymore.
The dhampir shot a shocked look at Ksenia. She shrugged and returned to her soup.
They were silent. The night above them unfolded into a beautiful, starry sky; the chill crept up at them little by little, but the merciful fire kept it at bay, shedding warmth and light around the camp. Trevor finished the bowl and Sypha put it away. He leaned over her helplessly, pillowing his head on her chest, gathering her to himself possessively in a bear hug. "I love you," he muttered incoherently, drooling a little. "I'm sorry, Sypha… I'm so sorry."
She sadly muttered that it doesn't matter, that everything is fine, that he should catch some sleep now while he can. She nestled him on her lap, his big, empty palms grabbing mindlessly at her dirty blue robe. Reaching for his cloak, Sypha planted a small kiss on top of his head, and covered him tightly with the dark wool. Alucard felt like an intruder, like a nasty voyeur, seeing a moment which was obviously not meant for anyone to see, but nevertheless it was there, blatant and heart wrenching; he realized he is wearing a look of shock on his face, bordering on pity, and he quickly turned away, hoping no one noticed. Suddenly there was a hand next to his, taking a bowl from his hand, pouring a second serving into it and passing it to him again. Ksenia.
Alucard didn't even realize that he wolfed down his portion in no time. The soup was indeed tasty and he apparently needed it. Small wonder, provided that lately he has developed a habit of preparing food for himself, but not consuming any of it. Then, as he started to run around the forests surrounding the castle in the form of a wolf, his only nourishment has been raw meat and tepid, fear-infused blood of his small animal victims.
He looked at the contents of his bowl. It smelled nice, smelled inviting. He sighed and accepted with a small thank you whispered under his breath. Ksenia nodded; her gaze lingered a second too long on Alucard's wrist, where the injury from the magical silver cord was visible from under the white sleeve. Alucard pulled at it angrily and covered the wrist in an instant. She did not comment.
"If you don't mind, I have to lay down," Ksenia said to Sypha, who looked at her and nodded, never stopping to rock Trevor in his sleep like a child. "You should do the same, my dear."
"I will, soon." she whispered back, stroking Trevor's filthy hair.
"He will be alright. Just let him sleep. Tomorrow will be better."
"I know, Ksenia. I know."
The woman's look was concerned, but she turned away to get a spare bedding from the back of the wagon. She dragged the bedroll closer to the wall, opposite to the fire, and made to take off her belt and the thick outer blouse. When she was pulling the fabric over her head, the bones and joints in her shoulders cracked in a cacophony of sounds. She winced, threw the blouse on the wagon, and knelt down on the bedroll. Reaching up to her head, she started untangling a piece of string from her hair, and after a minute or two a thick, heavily plaited length of hair fell down her nape and on her lap. She had an impressive braid of dark brown colour, a bit similar to Trevor's. She massaged her scalp a little and tossed the braid behind her. Before wrapping herself in a blanket tightly she inspected the wound on her side, pushing the thin cotton shift up; the bandage was stained with blood, but she apparently decided to change it in the morning, because she let the shift fall down and over her skirt, she kicked off the too-big, muddy shoes and laid down. She curled herself into a foetal position and murmured a tired "goodnight" to everyone.
Alucard was absentmindedly curling the wooden spoon in his fingers, watching all this with peripheral vision. Sypha's eyelids began to droop. She moved gently to disentangle Trevor's hands from her robes, planted a kiss on the top of his head and eased him down on the ground so that she could get up.
She prepared her bedroll close to where he was laying, and added some more fuel to the fire. The small hearth burst into life and greedily engulfed all of the dry branches and an offered log.
"Are you going to sleep here with us?" Sypha asked quietly.
"I… am not sure," Alucard muttered. In fact he did not want to go anywhere. Even if he felt uncomfortable seeing his friends in this state, even if he felt alien, out of place and left out, a mere thought of sleeping in the empty castle with nothing but ghosts of the past around him made his stomach revolt. Vision of a blood-stained bedroom flashed underneath his eyes and he knew full well he will not be coming back there any time soon. "May I stay?"
"Of course, Adrian. Take my bedroll, I'll just settle next to Trevor."
"He stinks."
Sypha scoffed. "That he does," she said.
"Why are you tolerating this, Sypha?" Alucard asked on impulse. "He's drunk like… like he's really back into it."
"Don't judge him, please. He's in pain."
Alucard shook his head, rolled his eyes and threw the spoon away in disdain. "I understand the need to expiate, or the desire to dull the pain, but… his behaviour is not only harming him. It's affecting you, Sypha. It makes me angry."
"I literally have *just* asked you not to judge him." Sypha sighed.
Alucard found a longish stick in the grass and poked at the fire. He glanced over to the bedroll on his left; the strange woman was already sleeping, apparently really tired. He could tell that she's asleep judging from the regularity of her breaths and her slower heartbeat, which to his vampire ears were easily detectable and plain as day.
"Who is she, anyway?" Alucard asked.
Sypha was silent for a moment.
"On the road from Lindenfeld… " she started, uncertain. "Well, we had to stop to replenish our supply. There was scarcely any more food, not for us, not for the horses. We were beat down and we needed medicine. So we stopped at a small town, it was called… Sybim, I believe."
Alucard nodded. He heard that name from the woman before.
"We were almost unable to get anything, as the streets were empty. Scarcely any merchants left. It was almost noon, so… it was strange. Apparently everyone was on the city square, where some…" her voice broke. "Where something of importance was taking place. It was an execution. A witch trial."
Alucard was looking at the curled figure laying next to the wall. He suddenly understood where this story was going and he swallowed hard against a lump that rose in his throat.
"The stake?" He asked with an empty voice.
"Nnno," Sypha muttered. Her face was white, unnaturally so in the fire glow. She looked like she was about to throw up. "Worse. It was just… oh, Alucard. It was just pure, unabashed cruelty. A show. For the mob to enjoy. She was beaten, she was whipped, she was... choked. They were… The hangman was about to tear at her breasts with hot pincers." Sypha shuddered. "It was absolutely barbaric. Horrible. And those people were cheering, yelling, spitting… a brainless, soulless mass of… of evil."
Alucard wanted to stand up and leave. He did not want to hear one more word. This story made him remember things he shoved down, deep down into himself, in order not to go mad. His heart clenched and an iron clamp settled around his stomach. But Sypha did not say anything else. She just gave out a strained sigh and returned to stroking Trevor's hair.
Finally, after an enormously long pause, Alucard made a sound.
"So you two rescued her."
"It was mostly Trevor," Sypha said, studying the face of the man. "He just… snapped. He snapped. One second he was standing next to me, and the next he was up there, on the gallows, swinging the Morning Star and… and suddenly heads started flying off, and the mayor was there, with his guts filling his hands. And once I saw two men swinging at Trevor, I jumped on there too, and, well… I incinerated a couple of them. We took her with us… and we ran."
Alucard was slowly digesting the information. He looked at Sypha; she looked exhausted. Trevor was asleep with his brow furrowed and stormy; Alucard could remember him being always vigilant and a light sleeper, but this time he was completely unmoving, without so much as a twitch.
He glanced at the woman sleeping wrapped tightly in the brown blanket. He could see a thick, brown cord of her long braid scattered on the ground sloppily.
"What's her name again?"
"Ksienija," Sypha said. "Ksenia. She's not from around here."
"I can tell. Sypha, listen… you sway on your feet. It's time to sleep. There will be plenty of time to talk tomorrow."
She nodded and made a move to lift the bedroll from the ground, but Alucard shook his head and in a spare, effortless motion morphed into the wolf. The animal made two circles in the spot where Alucard was previously sitting and laid down, pillowing it's shapely head on it's long front paws. Sypha smiled weakly, watching him for a moment; then she pulled the blanket over herself and cuddled to Trevor's back, her small body all but hidden behind the man's powerful frame.
(1) polish for : "let the disease take him", "would he die of cholera".
(2) polish for "his mother is a woman of questionable repute".
(3) I created the character of Ksenia in utter frustration at the lack of slavian representation in certain other Netflix show, one that I was really hyped for, and it turned out... meh. To explain: if the action takes place in Wallachia 1477, and if we are to rely on the map pictured in the show itself, "Kingdom of Poland" at that time is quite vast, so I took some liberties and the colorful language, custom, dress or other folklore elements are going to be taken from the region that is geographically more than just Poland of today, but rather slavic in general.