Loose ends. [The word is breathed out with a little pinch to Alucard's nose. He hates the term, but...that is what this is. Loose ends. Or else a poor fucking inheritance from his father. The first is preferable.
Sypha and Trevor manage the Hold. It is a thing agreed upon if only because there is a risk that some idiot might try something on Alucard with a piece of silver or something else equally dumb, and then the entire Hold is liable to drown in blood. Trevor's set his terms. It is...irresponsible to risk it.
The study when you're both done. I expect I shall be there for a while.
But after the two depart, Alucard lingers in the hallway. Mutters a few words to at least clear out the sea of blood, and does the only kindness he thinks himself capable of right now. He finds enough linen for a shroud, and he wraps Enid's bones in it as carefully as he can. (So much is burnt. So much is brittle. So much crumbles away.) He'll do this because he failed so horribly otherwise. And because it is right.
And then he goes back into that horrible little room of his, picks up the obsidan black jar that holds the precious few ashes of his father, and goes to the study. Hector is brought up along the way, and there is no doubt about Trevor's assessment. Pathetic.
Within the study, the half a chair is still there. (They both have to take a moment to deal with that weirdness.) Nothing else. Alucard does not go to find a chair, and Hector does not sit. There is no natural light in this place, but Alucard keeps the door open so that when Trevor and Sypha return, they know they are welcome in this place.
This part is so very deliberate, because right now Alucard knows he treads a razor thin edge of patience, of mercy, of rage, of all the contradictory impulses that make up his core. He places his father's ashes underneath his mother's portrait (unburnt, untouched, and maybe this is the more correct set up), then turns to Hector. He is still soaked red with blood. He is still wearing his hair as his mother once did. He is legacy made flesh in every way it could ever be made flesh, and Alucard knows it.
And with that, he begins. (He sees that dog peak around the corner. And trot over to Hector. And isn't that a fine detail?)
Let me be very clear in this moment, Hector, he intones. Any sympathy that I might have had for your situation is outweighed by what has been visited upon me and mine. You know my father's approach to these things. So you will tell me exactly how we have come to this point, and then I will decide what is to be done.
There's no water offered, no time to pause, there is only the bare naked truth of it. How Carmilla dominated his father's own war council, how she obtained a forgemaster (and in that moment Alucard knows that his father's anger was the cause of one thing, and Hector's blind trust is the cause of this situation), and all other things that have unfolded since. There are so many things clarified from the evidence left behind at the Castle that Alucard can piece together a decent timeline of what happened between his father's striking him down to the moment the three re-entered the castle, but...
...but this man is the cause of so many things. Trevor's agony. Sypha's endless worry. His own torture, because there is no way that Carmilla could have brought an army forth like that without this man.
And then it is done. The story is told. And Alucard stands there in terrible, perfect silence, weight of judgement on his shoulders. (Even his mother's infinite love of humanity might waver, just a bit. Just because of what was done to him.)]
no subject
Sypha and Trevor manage the Hold. It is a thing agreed upon if only because there is a risk that some idiot might try something on Alucard with a piece of silver or something else equally dumb, and then the entire Hold is liable to drown in blood. Trevor's set his terms. It is...irresponsible to risk it.
The study when you're both done. I expect I shall be there for a while.
But after the two depart, Alucard lingers in the hallway. Mutters a few words to at least clear out the sea of blood, and does the only kindness he thinks himself capable of right now. He finds enough linen for a shroud, and he wraps Enid's bones in it as carefully as he can. (So much is burnt. So much is brittle. So much crumbles away.) He'll do this because he failed so horribly otherwise. And because it is right.
And then he goes back into that horrible little room of his, picks up the obsidan black jar that holds the precious few ashes of his father, and goes to the study. Hector is brought up along the way, and there is no doubt about Trevor's assessment. Pathetic.
Within the study, the half a chair is still there. (They both have to take a moment to deal with that weirdness.) Nothing else. Alucard does not go to find a chair, and Hector does not sit. There is no natural light in this place, but Alucard keeps the door open so that when Trevor and Sypha return, they know they are welcome in this place.
This part is so very deliberate, because right now Alucard knows he treads a razor thin edge of patience, of mercy, of rage, of all the contradictory impulses that make up his core. He places his father's ashes underneath his mother's portrait (unburnt, untouched, and maybe this is the more correct set up), then turns to Hector. He is still soaked red with blood. He is still wearing his hair as his mother once did. He is legacy made flesh in every way it could ever be made flesh, and Alucard knows it.
And with that, he begins. (He sees that dog peak around the corner. And trot over to Hector. And isn't that a fine detail?)
Let me be very clear in this moment, Hector, he intones. Any sympathy that I might have had for your situation is outweighed by what has been visited upon me and mine. You know my father's approach to these things. So you will tell me exactly how we have come to this point, and then I will decide what is to be done.
There's no water offered, no time to pause, there is only the bare naked truth of it. How Carmilla dominated his father's own war council, how she obtained a forgemaster (and in that moment Alucard knows that his father's anger was the cause of one thing, and Hector's blind trust is the cause of this situation), and all other things that have unfolded since. There are so many things clarified from the evidence left behind at the Castle that Alucard can piece together a decent timeline of what happened between his father's striking him down to the moment the three re-entered the castle, but...
...but this man is the cause of so many things. Trevor's agony. Sypha's endless worry. His own torture, because there is no way that Carmilla could have brought an army forth like that without this man.
And then it is done. The story is told. And Alucard stands there in terrible, perfect silence, weight of judgement on his shoulders. (Even his mother's infinite love of humanity might waver, just a bit. Just because of what was done to him.)]