The Future is Today
Disclaimer: Castlevania belongs to konami, not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic; it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Alucard... then he'd be mine.
Rating: PG-13
Part: one of three
Setting: Post the animated series
Authoress note: Daddy's home.
Italics = thoughts and flashbacks
Chapter One
Greta knew who Dracula was.
She knew the old stories, and she had lived through Dracula's descent into madness. The night the castle had crash landed barely 20 miles from her village, she had thought it was the end for her and her people. The monster had come to their home. But she was wrong. Nothing came.
After that night, she heard stories of how Dracula and his hoard had been put down by heroes, a Belmont, a speaker and a vampire. She later heard more from travellers who had ventured close to the castle, stories that someone still lived in the castle. The Alucard had remained behind.
Typical, she had thought, the blood sucker stays behind. She knew vampires, the way she knew Dracula. They were malicious. Vampires weren't just predators; they took glee in the slaughter. Like cats, if cats were big enough to play with humans as their prey.
But, no harm had come to the village, though stories from the travellers became more concerning, especially when bodies turned up outside the castle in a very clear 'Fuck off' message. Greta had no problem following the request to stay away.
At least until the night hoard came again.
She had reached out in a last-ditch hope and it had rewarded her. Her people survived and now they prospered, living inside and just outside Dracula's castle.
They lived in Dracula's-freaking-castle.
Some days, it would hit her just how insane this was. That each day she'd wake up in a plush bed, a sort-of-but-not-really vampire snoring next to her, and wander the halls, which were warm now, comfortable and cosy. She'd read books on any and every topic she could think of, find art work squirrelled away in nooks and crannies and help her people build a new life for themselves.
All the while being in Dracula's-freaking-castle.
It was the contrast that was hurting her. She knew who Dracula was; he was a monster, larger than any man could be and unknowably powerful. Capable of destroying the world if left unchecked. He was mindless, brutal and terrifying, more a force of nature than a man.
She'd been corrected of part of this assumption by Alucard, Dracula was not mindless, he was a polymath, which meant he was impossibly clever. But that just made him more frightening to her, something so powerful and clever. How could it be defended against? But she'd hidden her fear and acted impressed. She wanted Alucard to know that she knew he was not his father; she wasn't afraid of him. Hard to fear someone who you regularly watch playing with children.
Alucard was not Dracula, she knew Dracula, Dracula was not a man. He was a monster.
Then she found a book on the geography of rivers.
The villagers were looking to expand the land around the castle to use it for farming and so they needed to get water from the river to the new farmland. Alucard had mentioned building an aqueduct, and used words like irrigation and a pipe-system. She wanted to understand things better, so she'd gone looking. She'd found a dusty tome, worn out and clearly well read. It was odd to think that Dracula had had an interest in rivers and how they function, how they might be persuaded to move to better suit the surrounding populace. But clearly, he had read this book more than once.
Then, on page one hundred and six, she found something that made her realise that maybe she didn't know Dracula as well as she thought she had.
There were doodles in the margin.
She had, once or twice, found chicken scratch notes in the margins of books. She'd even found a notebook but hadn't been brave enough to read it. But this was not notes, they were doddles. Little cats littered the entire margin, and when she turned the page, there was a much larger doddle of a cat. Someone who had never drawn a cat before clearly did it.
She had shown it to Alucard, who had laughed, then on seeing her confused expression had pulled out several books and find pages with silly little doodles in the margins. Greta learned something about Dracula then that she would never have guessed at, that he could not draw and seemed to like cats.
It was enough that when the first letter from Alucard's mother arrived; she encouraged him to write back and had asked to hear stories about his childhood.
A few weeks passed, and she listened intently to Alucard's stories from his childhood, the time he and his mother had hidden dead fish in his father's study to force him out of the room to play with them. The instance when Dracula had tried to teach Alucard to change his physical form and had remained in his own wolf form for two days at Alucard's behest because he wanted a dog.
The stories made her brave enough to risk reading the notebook she had found.
She had expected tales of horror, or at least something that might revolt her. Instead, she found musings of someone who both hated people and hated being alone. It was uncomfortable reading, at least until she turned a page and found notes regarding a woman, in particular her hand and finger size. Then on the next page a ring design, drawn terribly, but still clearly a ring design. Several pages later, notes on what they might need for a wedding. Then further still, pages and pages of baby names, nursery room designs and lists and lists of things a mother might need to nurse a child. Throughout these notes, there was an energetic excitement that bordered on giddy.
Oh no.
It was adorable.
He'd been so excited and had clearly channelled that energy into providing far too much for his wife and son. If he'd even made a third of the toy designs in this book, Alucard would have been utterly spoiled.
Greta gave Alucard the book when she'd finished it. He'd thanked her and had gone silent for several days afterwards. She'd ended up recruiting the children to bombard him with games and questions which seemed to distract him out of the misery.
Greta changed her opinion on Dracula, or rather expanded it. He was still a monster who had tried to end the world, but he was also a man. A man who had been terribly sad and lonely and then giddy to where it was almost cute, then furious. He was nuanced, much like most people, and she accepted that.
Until a fucking dragon landed on the front lawn.
A literal dragon.
It was enormous and loud. The wing beats alone had been heard when the beast was miles off out of sight; they grew louder until the entire village was out looking for the source of the disturbance. Someone saw it. Great didn't know who, but when one cry of alarm went up and many followed it. There was a monster in the sky and it was getting bigger. On automatic, she started barking orders and felt relief when the Belmont disappeared to fetch his weapons. Sypha gave her child to one of the other mothers and started organising getting everyone inside. Alucard tumbled out of the castle, fighting against the river of people desperate to get in.
"Stop!" his voice was lost under the shouts of fear from the villager. "Bloody stop!"
"What?" she called back as he fought to get to her.
"Stop panicking." He put a heavy hand on her shoulder, catching his breath. Greta just pointed at the creature descending rapidly on the castle. "Trust me."
And she did. She really did, though it was hard at times like these. With literal monsters baring down on their home.
"O.k." she forced the words out around a lump in her throat. Was she about to get everyone killed? "Calm down, relax. It's not a threat." The villagers ignored her mostly, continuing to race inside the castle. Greta looked to Sypha who looked no more convinced than Greta felt. But the look of pleading on Alucard's face had her slumping against the fear and calling out words of calm.
By the time the dragon landed hard enough to shake the ground, most of the villagers were inside the castle. They hadn't been able to stop people from running, but they had stopped anyone losing arrows at the beast.
It was huge, long-necked and covered in a myriad of way to kill. Claws long that a cart, tail spikes longer than pikes and many times as thick, many teeth that came over its own bottom lip and smoke billowed from its nostrils. It was a monster designed to kill as much as possible as fast as possible, and they were just standing here.
They were so fucked.
Greta glanced at Sypha. Had she just killed the young family? She glanced back at the castle, the hoard of faces peering out of windows in fear. Had she just killed all those children?
Had she just destroyed everything?
"Hello!"
The voice was female and enthusiastic. Greta watched as the dragon slowly and gently lowered itself to it's belly. When it's chin was on the ground, Greta could see a woman riding it.
Someone. Was. Riding. The. Dragon.
"Mother!" Alucard jogged forward, effectively ignoring the dragon, clambering up over it's front legs, and jumping up to it's neck. He lifted the woman and jumped down.
"You could have just changed back. That would have been so much easier." The woman grumbled at the dragon as Alucard put her down. "Come on, change." She gently kicked the dragon, who made a show of ignoring her and turning his head away. "You can't stay like that. What will people think?" Still, the dragon ignored her. "You can't fit through the door!" still nothing. "Don't be shy, I'll hold your hand."
The dragon visibly blustered and with a cacophony of sound and sudden heat, the dragon burst apart in smoke. Greta coughed and shielded her eyes. When the air cleared, Alucard was still standing next to his mother. Next to them was a man, a very tall man with black hair and very pale skin.
Oh fuck.
"I'm not shy." Greta heard him mutter and a bubble of hysterical laughter escaped her, making all three look at her. Alucard took his mother's hand and pulled her over.
"Mother, this is Greta. Greta, this is Lisa, my mother."
"So you're Greta." The woman, Lisa, took her hand and shook it enthusiastically. "You're beautiful!"
"Um, thank you." Greta managed; her mouth bone dry.
"I see you running!" Lisa released her hand and turned. She was right. The man who had to be Dracula was actively trying to escape. Lisa stepped back and grabbed his hand hard enough that her knuckles went white.
"I thought maybe best that-" Dracula started and Greta saw him glance at Alucard.
"Shut up." Lisa said cheerfully. "I'm in charge and you're staying put." She looked at Greta. "I think we should go inside. There's much to discuss."
Greta wasn't sure how she did it, but Lisa hustled everyone outside towards the door. The Belmont deliberately put himself between Sypha and everyone else, glaring fiercely. Lisa ignored him, held her son and husband's hands and walked them all towards the door.
They crossed the threshold into the hall under the watch of hundreds of terrified eyes and the doors shut behind them with a terrible finality.
Dracula was home.
They walked through the entrance hall. Lisa boldly walking with an air of someone out for a lunchtime wander. Her husband and son walking straight-backed and shaking beside her. Lisa reached the steps and turned plonking herself down with a big smile and dragging her husband down beside her. Greta could see what she was trying to do, both by manhandling him and by making him sit down. But Dracula did not look any smaller sitting down.
"So," Lisa smiled, and Greta saw her façade crack just a bit. The tension in her voice was audible. "Tell me, how did you all come here?"
"I told you, in my letters," Alucard said. He looked tense enough that Greta suspected she'd hear his tendons snapping any moment.
Greta looked around. The tension was hard enough that you could have cut it with a knife. No one was moving, no one was speaking, hell she had a hard time hearing if anyone was breathing.
Then out of the corner of her eye she saw the butcher, standing in front of his family, cleaver in hand. He was trembling but ready to fight and she realised that that was what everyone was doing. They were terrified, but ready to fight if they had to. There were too many men in here with their terrified families cowering behind them. It was going to go very wrong soon.
Shit.
Then there was movement. At her feet was one of the village cats. An aged mongrel tom with a torn ear and a limp.
Greta acted without thinking. She lifted the tom-cat and stroad forward until she was in front of Dracula. Christ, but he was still so bloody tall, even sitting and obviously trying his utmost not to look tall. She swallowed and dropped the tom-cat into his lap.
"His names Petro." Her voice came out squeaky. "He lives in the hall."
Petro seemed oblivious to the danger she'd just put him in and behaved in the manner of cats everywhere, by accepting that he owned this person now. He arched his back, brushing against Dracula's chest, let out a low rumbling purr and started nosing at long fingered clawed hands.
Greta felt heat flood her face when she saw ginger fur littering the expensive-looking waistcoat. She glanced at Dracula's face as he reached out and put a long clawed hand on Petro's back and slowly started petting.
"I've always liked cats."
End Chapter One
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