Chapter Text
It was early in the morning when Trevor woke. Slouched against the headboard, Ann rested on his side. Trevor stared at her fingers. They were clutched into his tunic, even as she slept. Sighing softly, he straightened, wincing slightly at the crick in his neck.
The open window covered the room in a swath of orange and purple. It fell over them, a warm blanket, and Trevor inhaled, shakingly.
When Ann twisted into herself, a simple action of rest, Trevor extracted himself from her grip, placing his pillow upright to replace him. For a moment, he watched her. Her messy brown hair covered half of her face. Lips quirking at her small snore, Trevor turned to face the heat he felt on his back.
The colours of sunset stretched as far as he could see. He stood there, in its touch and warmth, feet bare and head heavy, and left his room quietly.
He’d only just rested his hand on the doorknob of Adrian’s room, feeling the cold metal when it twisted under his grip, and he blinked, hand resting over nothing.
Adrian did not wait. He was pulling him in, fingers interlacing between his hovering hand and curling himself over him.
The excess of noise left his mouth, a half part Adrian’s name and another half of desperation, and he embraced Adrian, arms around his waist, face buried against his collarbone, the fall of golden hair shielding him.
“Trevor,” Adrian murmured his name. “Trevor.”
He exhaled, lips scraping against skin. His scent of lemongrass and ginger was faint, but it grounded Trevor, a tether of comfort to a better time.
He stilled at the sensation of fingers running through his hair, suddenly reminded of the same touch when he vomited earlier, and it was the memory of it, the shame, that made him pull away.
His mouth automatically worked, but Trevor couldn’t apologise. He couldn’t cover up his feelings here, not with Adrian.
Watching their interlaced hands, Trevor inhaled shudderingly. “I…” Adrian twitched. He knew he was watching him intently. “He’s gone.”
But it didn’t sound like a statement. He drifted, uncertainty and fear covering the words. It was more a question. Impossible, unfathomable and real.
A cool touch grazed his cheek and he blinked, meeting Adrian’s stare. When their eyes met, Adrian’s hand pressed and settled.
“We’ll bring him back. I promise.” When he said nothing, Adrian’s hand slid from its point, fingers shifting hair and holding him from the back of his head. “Trevor, we will bring him back. All of us.” Fingers tightened. The metal of his ring pressed cold. “I’m here for you.”
Something in him twisted. “You are,” he whispered, staring into eyes he’d never forget. “You’re here and I—“
His heart beat unfathomably fast. His head was dizzy and senses dull, so practically vulnerable when he shouldn’t be. If it were a hunt, the monster would have killed him.
But the vampire in front of him watched him carefully. His husband brought him forward, eyes fluttering shut as their foreheads touched.
Time stretched endlessly, the air between them warm and God, Trevor felt.
When Adrian shifted back, leaning a few nail lengths away, his head jerked to follow.
“How are you? Really.” Adrian asked softly.
He struggled to respond, wanting to lean into the press of him as long as he could. But he forced himself back, enough that when he breathed, he felt Adrian mimic the action.
He didn’t know if he was referring to his vomiting session or his feelings. “Better,” he said for both. “Ann helped. A lot. Thanks for the food.” He huffed, softly. “Thank you for bringing me back. I… I didn’t want them to see me like that.”
“I understand.” Adrian’s fingers tightened in his hair. “This is… a trying time,” he settled on.
He grounded himself under the pressure, sighing softly. When he opened his eyes, Adrian was watching him.
“Adrian, I’m…” He brought their intertwined hands up, pressed it to his beating heart. “I don’t think I can take it,” he admitted, “if anything happens to him too.” He said what he could not say to Ann and he raised his eyes hesitatingly. “And you can’t promise anything. I know you want to but you can’t.”
Trevor knew that all too well. He never made any promises when he visited an asking town, responding to their pleas to not rid a monster but to save their taken.
Sometimes, it was just too late.
Adrian looked devastated. His hand had tightened to Trevor’s like steel. “I know,” he admitted in a whisper, “but I can try my best. I always will.” His expression tightened. “Please, don’t—“ he broke off, collecting his words. “I know it is selfish of me to ask, but please don’t allow your mind to wander. Stay here with me.”
Its cowardly but he curls back into Adrian, his hand at Trevor’s head and another around his waist, and takes his time to breathe.
“I can.” He said. “I can do that. It’s part of the job. I’ll… always be focused.”
He shook his head, pleading. “That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.” And Trevor inhale the warm air, watched the dust mites under the sun’s light and pulled himself together.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t.”
He scoffed lightly. “Alright.”
Adrian watched him closely, and he knew he’d seen the change but he didn’t push him and Trevor wondered how he ever lived without this.
“What would you like to do now?” He asked, giving Trevor whatever control he could have.
He struggled, feeling the sun’s heat at his back.
“I…” Adrian waited for him to put his words together. “Go to your father’s study. Help them.”
He nodded. “The Matron witch and her coven are here.”
Trevor blinked, leaning back. “Really?” He looked around, half expecting the old witch to pop out from inside the walls. “Where?”
“A different wing of the castle. Father put up some wards around our rooms and theirs, making sure they wouldn’t wander.”
He hummed lowly. “Right.” He wanted to stay here longer, wanted this shield, but of course, he can’t. “ Then we should—”
A click sounded. Trevor placed it immediately from the fact that it was behind him and how Adrian’s eyes widened.
And when Adrian’s hand untangled itself from his hair, settling back to his side, his fingers twitched with the urge to reach for it again.
They both quickly stepped back, their hands brushing.
“Ann,” he greeted, smiling wryly at her unruly hair and trying to push everything else back in. “Sleep well?”
“Not bad.” Her eyes slid to Adrian before returning more urgently to his. “What about you? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Really.” Stepping next to her, he ran his fingers through her hair, trying to flatten it against her head. “I’m more concerned about this nest.”
She snorted, crossing her arms. “You try to handle longer hair, Trevor. You struggle as it is.”
“Mine has charm.” He smirked, looking back at Adrian, the memory sparking. “You once asked me if I even brushed it.”
Adrian smiled, expression full of warmth as he tilted his head, inspecting them. "Yes. I see now it’s a family trait.”
“Yes,” Ann surprisingly spoke directly to him, but her eyes shifted after a second. “It’s what we’ve inherited from our ancestors. Bad hair and an innate ability to hunt monsters,” she jested.
Trevor was thrilled. Ann was making a joke to Adrian.
It was more than he ever expected, especially after their stunt previously when he'd held Adrian close in front of them all. It sparked something warm in his chest. He knew it what it was. He wanted them to get along.
After everything that happened, Trevor wanted this one thing.
Not wanting to miss the opportunity, he theatrically widened his eyes, indicating eagerly with his head. But he supposed it was too much for Adrian, who would respond to Trevor’s humour with dry wit and sarcasm. Ann was uncharted territory.
The silence was loud, and Trevor leaped in.
“Ann likes the plumbing here.”
Her eyes were wide, and Adrian looked between them, blinking. Trevor gave him an urging look and smiled when he replied.
“Ah. Yes, it’s highly convenient.”
When Ann was silent, he turned to her and gave an urging look.
“Yeah… we… Sometimes we heat up water using magic, but it can be tiresome sometimes. Especially if you’re not gifted with it.”
That caught Adrian’s interest. “Are you?” He wasn’t addressing Ann.
“Not really.” Trevor said. He thought about the Hold. “I can do basic incantations if I can recite them right. That’s a Belmont thing that we can all do. But no, I’m not with the gift.”
“I see,” Adrian stared at him intensely, and Trevor wondered what he was thinking, but didn’t ask.
“Me neither. I don’t mind, though. Sure, it’s handy, but it just makes you lazy.”
He smirked. “Sounds like something someone without magic would say.”
“Hey!”
He talked over her. “Adrian has magic.”
“Really?”
“I’m practised in traditional sorcery, yes. My father’s blood makes it only natural.” He paused. “My Damphir nature also makes me more sensitive to psionics. I have great ability in telekinesis, as Trevor has seen.”
“That’s… actually very interesting." She frowned. “Fine, I admit it would make life easier if we had it.”
“Didn’t you say you were going to practise it?”
“I tried to copy Sypha’s instructions, but it’s apparently easier for people with dispositions to it.” She sniffed and muttered something about unfairness.
Trevor smiled at her, turning to see Adrian watching him. He offered a smile, and Adrian softened.
“Where were you going?” Ann asked.
Trevor stumbled. “To Dracula’s study.”
She nodded steadily, undeterred. “Well, let’s go.” Taking a determined step, she stopped, turning around sheepishly.
“I don’t know the way.”
“Please, follow me.” Adrian stepped past them, his hand brushing Trevor’s. They obediently followed, Trevor between Ann and Adrian like a shield before he stopped again, voice urgent.
“Trevor, your feet.”
They stared at his exposed toes.
“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.”
“You—“ Adrian struggled. “You may catch a cold.”
“That’s the least of our worries,” he shrugged off Adrian’s worried gaze, overtaking him as he wouldn’t move himself, and pretending he couldn’t feel his frown.
As they made their way down a staircase, Adrian spoke, “Sypha’s caravan will be arriving today. They’re tidying up a few things with the Church and are hoping they can find something, a lead, there. The forgemaster Ignis and her group will come along in two days.”
“What about the vampires?” Ann asked.
“My father plans for them to be here soon. I don’t…” Adrian looked tense. “I don’t know who specifically will be coming.”
Trevor caught his train of thought. “Anyone we should watch out for?”
His expression was grim. “All of them.”
Ann stuttered, “but I thought the pact–”
Adrian cut her off. “It’s different for them. They’re immortal…They have more years of hatred than any other.” He stared at them intently. “Many of them will seize this opportunity for what it is, an attack against the Church. Others… I don’t trust them all.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep peacefully here,” Ann muttered.
“My father will put up precautions within the castle. Some groups may choose to stay outside–”
“Like our family.”
“ – but the vampires will have to stay inside. He’ll certainly limit where they can go.” He sighed. “I may simply just be paranoid.”
Trevor shook his head. “We shouldn’t let our guard down, even amongst the other groups.” He scowled. “You know, other than the Speakers, our family has had issues with all of them.”
Adrian smirked. “Maybe you’re the issue.”
Ann let out a sound of indignation, but Trevor waved her off. “Yeah, maybe. My father got into a fight with a Speaker, once.”
“Speaker’s fight?”
He and Ann laughed at his expression.
“Belmont’s tend to bring out the animal side of people.” He remarked casually.
“...Yes,” Adrian said quietly. “I suppose you do.”
He perked up at the strange tone, twisting to meet his gaze. But Adrian didn’t keep it, and when his eyes fell away, Trevor noticed them stop downwards at his neck.
He suddenly remembered the hard press of Adrian’s body over his, the spit wetting his skin as it dripped out of his panting mouth.
The press of fangs aiming to break skin.
His heart thudded, and he cursed himself for it because Adrian could hear it, expression stricken, and no Trevor wasn’t scared.
And he didn’t care that Ann was there, it was the most insignificant thing he’d even considered.
“Adrian,” and he was reaching for him, hands twisting into his shirt. “I didn’t mean—“
“I know.” Adrian took a steadying breath, holding his hand over Trevor’s.
But he didn’t think he did, not really, but Adrian was already speaking.
“My father just left his study.” Head tilted, he was obviously listening to something within the castle. “I will call him back.”
He turned to Trevor, a fleeting, uncertain glance that made him want to scream. Trevor opened his mouth to protest, but the line of red had left and settled.
Adrian was already gone.
He stared at the empty space, unable to wrap his mind around what had happened.
Ann peered up at him, confused. He supposed he was making this more dramatic than it seemed to an outsider. But Trevor has been pulled raw since he came to the castle. His armour has shattered, especially where Adrian was concerned, and he’s… different.
He tried to put on the same armour as he had when his father died, to coil the whip tightly. Judging by Ann’s expression, he doesn’t do it too well.
“Come on,” he murmured. “Dracula won’t wait long.”
When they reached his study, the door was ajar. The room smelled of old parchment and ink. Dracula sitting behind his desk, fingers clasped while Adrian stood beside him. Dracula's expression was hard to read. Trevor had not spent enough time with him to even begin deciphering what he was thinking.
A map covered the surface of the desk and Trevor immediately peered at it, fingers hovering over Târgoviște.
“Adrian has informed you of yesterday's actions?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, pointing a clawed nail at Tarogviste. “Your family’s distance mirror showed a great deal. The Guard is already stationed at the Church steps. Patrols of Churchmen are double what they used to be.”
“As expected.” He thought carefully. “What about wards?”
“There are some minor ones, but I assume once the blood moon begins, they will cast one quite… large.” He stared at him. “Are you aware how magic operates once the blood moon begins?”
He nodded. “The spells get stronger, obviously. But for a moment, they fade.”
“Yes. The magic can’t immediately hold the weight of the moon’s power, and for a few seconds, all spells will falter.” His next words were sharp. “Even any wards.”
Realisation crept over him. “We’ll enter during that time?”
“In a perfect world. But if all their forces are at Târgoviște, we’ll need to lure them away.” He paused. “This is also where a problem arises.”
“What?”
“As soon as our presence is detected, and it’s known we have not abided by the Bishop’s rules, it is likely they will kill Zacharias.”
“What?” His sudden movement jerked the map.
Dracula held up his hand. “That is why you and Adrian will approach the Church before the moon is full.”
He blinked, chancing a look at Adrian who looked as surprised as him.
“But you just said—”
“Two men are different from an army.” His voice lowered, eyes burning. “The Bishop is arrogant. He will not be able to resist you both at his doorstep, not when his Church blesses him and his Guard protects. He will invite you in.”
Slowly, Trevor nodded. That could work. They’d need to work on specifics, but it could work. It had to.
“And the others?”
“Once the Speakers arrive, I shall begin council.”
Frustration built in him. “You should start now. The Matron’s coven is already here, you should—”
“I am currently waiting on information from the Speakers, Hector, and my other spies. I will not waste time basing a plan on nothing.” His eyes bore into his. “Calm yourself. The days will pass quickly, and you cannot cloud your judgement.”
“It’s not clouded,” he spat, and he was going to tell Dracula what exactly he thought when a smaller hand gripped his.
Ann stared at him, worried. His heart clenched at her expression, the deep furrow between her brows.
“Ann?”
Her voice was quiet and uncertain. “I think he’s right. It’s better to wait. We… there’s nothing else we can do.”
He wanted to immediately protest. But she stared at him beseechingly, and he recalled her quiet, scared voice last night.
Instantly, his stomach clenched, “I…” Adrian stared at him worriedly.
But Trevor couldn’t do nothing. He had to but he couldn’t.
Whirling, he stepped towards the door, ignoring the exclamations behind him.
“Trevor—”
“Could you give Ann breakfast?” He asked without looking back. “She’s hungry.”
She hadn’t said it, but Ann always had a big appetite. She’d eat a full meal, wake up a few hours later, and be able to eat it all again.
He didn’t wait for a reply as he left.
— — —
Adrian hadn’t come after him.
Trevor paced through the hallway, unable to focus on a single thing. He knew that Dracula made sense, he knew that, but he couldn’t sit here, in this furnished and warm castle, while Zach was in chains.
Why couldn’t anyone understand that?
He stared out a window, hoping he’d see a band of caravans on the horizon.
“Belmont.”
He swiftly turned, hand at his whip, at the unfamiliar voice.
A familiar old woman, cloaked in rich red and glittering jewels, held up her hand. “No need for that.”
Trevor watched her for a moment, looking around at the hallways and realising that, in his turmoil, he’d walked far.
“Matron?”
“Hello, Belmont.”
He rolled his eyes. “Hello, Matron.”
“Better.” The old witch stared at him. “You’re looking fitter than I last saw you. Certainly better than at your home.”
The manor was still burned, and his father's death was still unbearable then. Of course he looked like shit.
She frowned, joining him at the window, looking uncharacteristically grim. “I was sorry to hear about your brother.”
“He’s not dead,” he gritted out.
But the Matron witch said nothing, holding her hand out and shifting her fingers between the sun’s light. Trevor watched the glittering rings over gnarled fingers. He wandered, almost inexplicably, where she'd gotten each one.
His own ring felt heavy on his hand. A piece of his family that was returned to him, and now another taken away.
Why? Why did it have to keep happening?
“He’s not dead,” he repeated, softer this time, about to turn away when she stopped him.
“When my daughter died," the Matron said suddenly, "I looked for her body an entire week. At first, it was the fields and the rivers, the neighbouring covens, because I could not fathom how—“
Her fingers curled into her palm, and they both stared at it. At nothing.
“What was her name?”
“Eliana,” her voice broke. “She used to play in the sun from dawn till dusk. Her skin was so warm, she would say she had the power of it contained inside of her.”
Her expression did not change and Trevor listened quietly, chest tightening. He knew about her daughter.
“It was lovely. It was a fantasy. But I never broke the illusion. I let her believe as all mothers desperately want to… and I was foolish to.”
“That’s not true.”
But she shook her head. “No matter how much she played or believed, she had no magic. The gift was not passed down to her and…”
Her hand pressed felt to the window.
“The sun was shining when the Church drowned her. I’m sure she realised the lie then.”
Trevor's hands shook. He clenched them into fists. Trevor wanted to tell her to stop, that he couldn’t bear another story of loss when his own was still unraveling, but the words stuck.
”None if that was your fault. You can’t blame—“
“Just how you do not blame yourself for Zacharias’ capture?” Trevor froze. “I will blame myself until my death, something that, since then, I always hoped would come sooner rather than later.”
“Matron.”
She spoke over him. “But I’ve changed my mind. I cannot die until the children are safe. I cannot die until the sun shines on laughter and not bodies." Her voice softened. "And that is not now.”
He was shaking. Trevor’s feet felt suddenly cold, and he turned himself towards the window, halting when the sunlight hit his face, warm and heavy. But the action left him feeling small, the choke of grief dousing him.
He could imagine Eliana’s last glance at the sun. Tainted.
And Trevor could not handle the thought of it, the grief of the Matron too much to bear. It was unfathomable that he could feel so much.
Trevor’s voice was small. “I don’t… I think they have him in the dark.”
“Then we will bring him into the light.” Her eyes shone when she looked at him. “Waiting is the worst part, boy.”
“I know.” He murmured.
“Yes,” she said quietly. “I suppose you do.”
The sunlight through the window shifted and dust floated between them like ash.