Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hector had to admit that he still felt nervous having the two vampires around. Sure, they had kept so many of Carmilla's surviving forces after the takeover, but it was different with Morana and Striga. He was well aware that they could use their help – they really could – but in the end they had been part of what had been done to him. And even after more than two years it was hard to forget.

With a sigh he looked into his manuscript. Yes, having Morana teach him in the ancient languages was useful to his writing. And still… He could not help but feel anxious.

He was not even sure why he was writing the book. It had become an end of itself. But there was the simple fact that from what he could tell studying both the library of Styria and the bits and pieces from Dracula's library he had gotten his hands on, it was nothing anyone has ever tried. Uniting the knowledge of vampires and the knowledge of humans.

He knew his manuscript was at times quite rambly. He would probably end up rewriting the entire thing once it was done, but… writing it felt still good.

Outside the sun was setting, which meant that inevitably parts of the castle would now rise.

Hector enjoyed those afternoons he had mostly to himself, sharing them only with the humans now living here – well, and those night creatures that kept around as guards. Isaac would now rise as well. Even after all the time he had not shook the habit of rising with the vampires – at least as long as there was no human business to attend to.

With a low sigh, Hector closed the book. This was probably all the writing he would manage this day. He tidied up his workplace, though he had taken to the habit of keeping the books he was currently working with, out. Even though he had a nice room by now, he preferred to keep to the library for his work. It was just more useful. This way he had immediate access to other books if he needed to look something up. And nobody dared to touch his stuff while he was not working.

Starting on his way to his room, he was wondering how to spent the evening. Even he would stay up until past midnight and in return only rise around noon.

It was in the corridors that he met Isaac. It was still strange to see him smile, though he held his body in the same upright posture he had always known him in. “Good evening,” Isaac greeted him and Hector could not help a slight grin.

“Good morning,” he countered.

“You have finished your work for the day?” Isaac asked.

“More or less,” Hector replied. “I at times doubt I will ever truly be finished with it.”

This made the other man's smile broaden once more. “I am sure you will, sooner or later.”

“Rather later than sooner.” Hector shrugged.

“Care to join me?”

“On, what? Your regular evening stroll?” Isaac had taken up the habit to inspect the castle on every evening, talk with some of the guards – including the vampires. He was – well – dedicated to this entire project. Making this work. All of it.

“Something like that, yes.”

Hector could not help a sigh. He still felt rather insecure to be around other people. They tended to be hard to talk to. Isaac was not, most of the time. Though it was also not easy conversation they were having. Still, he knew how long it had taken for him to come around to something like this. So maybe…

“Sure,” he replied and managed a smile for himself.

Isaac had changed so much in those last three years. There was not much left from the quite aloof man, he had once met in Dracula's court. Isaac just like him had avoided human company for the longest of times. It was maybe the one thing they had had in common – both with each other, as well as with Dracula. By now, though, it had become clear to Hector that it had been much more of an active choice for the other man, than it had been for him. Hector often felt exhausted being around other people. It was a lot, trying to keep up with their thoughts – and with their emotions as well. It might well be, that it had been this fact that had made him so attracted to vampires. Vampires, well, they tended to be less emotional than humans and in a weird way easier to read.

Isaac had become somewhat easier to read with time. He was not kidding himself, though. It was mostly that by now he – Hector – had a good feel for the kind of person Isaac was. He was thoughtful and would not act rash. Much to Hector's surprise he was also caring. He actually cared about the people of Styria – and weirdly enough that seemed to include Hector as well.

When they stepped outside into the courtyard, Hector could not help but shiver a bit. It was winter, after all, and winter in Styria – especially up in the alps, where the castle was located – was icy cold. Especially at night. It had snowed for most of the day, but by now the temperatures had fallen enough that even snow would not fall.

Strangly enough Isaac rarely seemed bothered by it. He held himself upright, just as he always did, looking out over the mountains.

“Sometimes I have to wonder whether you are not a vampire very good at hiding it,” Hector muttered, getting the other man to smile.

“What makes you think so?”

“You barely seem to feel the cold.” And as Hector well knew: Vampires did not feel temperatures in the same way humans did.

Isaac shrugged at this. “I am just in control,” he replied. “As long as I don't stay out here too long the cold will not harm me.”

Hector almost felt like laughing at this. It felt just like such an Isaac thing to say. “Speak for yourself.” He wrapped his own arms around himself, rubbing his shoulders to keep warm as he followed Isaac up to the outer wall. Admittedly the view from up here was a great one. The night was clear and starry, with a crescent moon illuminating the valley below.

There was also no hint at another attack. Ever since they had brokered their peace with Bavaria they did not have to worry it seemed. Even though the world was changing.

Still, he breathed in relief when he entered the warm castle again.

“Maybe you should bring a coat, next time,” Isaac teased.

“Well, it was not as if I had made any plans going outside, was it?”

A simple smirk. “Well, I guess not.” Isaac strode down the corridor in the direction of the kitchens. “Care to join me for supper?”

“You mean breakfast?”

This earned him a chuckle, but Hector shrugged. “Yeah, why not.”

***

In the end they ended up in the sitting room, which Isaac had taken to use. They had some supper – grilled meat and pickled vegetables – as well as some wine for Hector. Isaac did not drink alcohol after all.

It was only here that Hector could see the other man relax ever so slightly. There was still strength projected from his posture, but not the same stiffness he would hold himself to outside. Hector admittedly could not make sense of it. Of why the other man had to project that much strength, had to hold himself to that high standards.

But maybe it was just one of the other things Hector was oblivious to.

They ate in silence for a while, until Isaac looked at him. “What do you make of the two by now?”

There was no question in Hector's mind who he was talking about. He could not help a slight sigh. “I don't know.” Because even with everything he could not help a slight tinge of fear whenever either of the two vampire women was present. They had been part of the plot to enslave him. And he also still remembered the warning Lenore once had given him: “Morana will torture you not to make you compliant, but because it helps her relax.”

The two of them had been here for now three months and so far had played by Isaac's rules – but a part of him was not able to relax around them.

Isaac watched him. “You don't know?”

“I really don't,” Hector replied. Because even after everything… All of that shit with Carmilla would not have happened if either of her “sisters” had stood up to her.

The thought of Carmilla alone was enough to make him shudder. He was glad she was dead.

The expression in Isaac's eyes was attentive. Maybe he could guess what Hector was thinking about after all. He sighed, emptied his water. “We'll have to see,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I guess we'll have to.” Hector's own gaze glid over to the window, watching the starry sky outside.

All of this still felt unreal at times. To live here in this castle – free. Well, mostly, he guessed.  At times he wondered, whether it would not have been better to return to Rhodes – but he found that he held no fondness for that place either. There were just bad memories.

There were bad memories in the castle, too, of course. But… It still felt wrong to think so, but at least he was not alone.

“What are you thinking about?” Isaac inquired, making Hector look over to him once more.

“Just… How strange it is… The way the things ended up.” He tried – and failed – to smile. It was not a thing that came natural to him after all.

“I guess.” Isaac put the empty plate down onto the table, now himself thinking for a while. Then he smiled. “What do you say to a game of chess?”

Hector frowned. “Where is this coming from suddenly?”

A simple shrug. “You get moody when you get lost in your thoughts. I thought a game of chess could distract you for a while.”

At this Hector could not help but chuckle. Was he really getting moody? Well, he might be. So he shrugged. “Yes. We might… We might as well.”

Chapter Text

Isaac had to reform his opinion on Hector once again. It was strange really. He thought himself able to see through people easily enough, but for one reason or another he was unable to pin this man down.

When he had met him in Dracula's court, he had considered him to be loyal to a fault but also painfully naive. He might have been right about the second thing, but not the first. Then he had seen him as a traitor, as the man responsible for Dracula's death – only to realize that Dracula's death had been something inevitable from the start. By the time he had reached Styria, he had given up on any plans to kill the man and yet was surprised by him again, as Hector had not only cut of his own finger to allow him to win the battle, but had also given him a way to challenge Carmilla directly. Only to then retreat to his books and completely dedicate himself to the science of magic. So it seemed at least. Never once had he actually considered the man to be a powerful mage, though. Until that fight in Rome.

Isaac had to wonder why it was so hard to pin him down. Maybe, he reasoned, it was simply that they were not speaking enough. They never had, had they? At the court it just seemed like a bad idea. In Isaac's mind there had never once been a doubt that in the end Dracula would kill both of them as well. A rather stupid assumption, considering that Dracula had saved his life in the end.

Maybe he never really had been good at seeing through people after all…

He watched the other man, as he was considering his next move. His eyes were of a greyish blue. Like ice. Quite fitting in a strange way. His hair ashen. At times Isaac found himself wondering, whether there had been a not quite human creature somewhere in his ancestry.

After way too long of a consideration, Hector moved one of his pawns and settled back.

This was a good thing. Them spending time together. Because, after all, it might be good to actually get to know the man. Despite everything Isaac did consider him a friend by now. It was a bit ironic, really. All of it was.

He himself directed his attention to the playing board, knowing fairly well that Hector was aiming to take his queen. He liked to do that, even though he should very well know by now that Isaac relied on his knights before his queen. Still, playing into this tendency of his friend always brought him an advantage. So, he moved one of his bishops – leaving the queen for the taking.

Maybe Hector realized he was planning something, as he hesitated to take the queen. Those blue eyes were looking at him deep in thought, before he finally opted to move his rock into defense – rather than taking the queen.

They should talk more. Isaac knew that. They should talk more.

It was not as if they were not talking. But when they did, they tended to speak about the political situation, about issues of Styria. Maybe about magic.

It was funny, really. For the most part they had spent now four years in vicinity of each other, but Isaac knew very little about the man Hector was. How had he learned to forge? Why had he decided to follow Dracula? He knew Hector had been of the believe Dracula just wanted to curl the humans, put them into pens. He had been afraid of humans more than he had been afraid of vampires. And Isaac could not help but wonder, why that was.

After all, it might be a trait they shared. Because for the longest part Isaac had feared humans as well. How could he not? So many humans he had met had tried to harm him, kill him at times. They had taken his home from him, his family. So how could he not fear their species?

He moved his knight and looked at the other man. “Check.”

Hector pursed his lips as he was thinking. There was no way for him to beat the knight so his only possibility was to move the king to the side.

Funnily enough Hector was not very good at the game. He had not the foresight to be an effective player, making rash decisions and going after plans that did not lead to victory. Like how he would chase around the queen again and again.

Isaac moved a single pawn. He knew in what position he wanted to bring the king – and for it he needed to allow his rock to move freely.

“You have a plan,” Hector noted as he was pondering his next move.

“I do,” Isaac admitted.

Hector looked at the pieces on the board, clearly trying to guess what he was trying to do next. Hesitantly he moved his own bishop back into a defensive position. Admittedly a move that Isaac did not see coming. It was not like Hector to play defensively.

Even though till this day Isaac lacked details, he knew Hector had been through a lot. Because he knew something bad had happened to the man before he had met Dracula. He also knew bad things had happened after Carmilla had taken him from Braila.

And still… When Isaac had arrived in Styria, the man had been willing to die. He had felt responsible for Dracula's death and had been willing to die to make up for it. He also had not hesitated in cutting of his own finger – the stump still remained on his hand to this day.

After a moment, Isaac moved his second knight. He would take that bishop first and then put Hector in check.

Once more Hector was pursing his lips, trying to understand the plan. He watched Isaac in the same way Isaac was watching him. Then, very hesitantly, he moved his rock in a position, that he could take the first knight.

So he was finally understanding.

This did make Isaac's plan a bit more complicated, as he had to move the knight out of harm's way at first.

This made Hector smile just a bit.

Isaac chuckled at this, leading to a confused expression.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Isaac muttered as he waited for the next move.

Hector pondered once more. “Why can't I help to get the feeling to be judged constantly?”

“Not judging,” Isaac replied. “I am still just wondering…”

When he did not finish, Hector looked up at him. “Wondering what exactly?”

Isaac did not reply immediately. This was a good place to start, right? To start actually talking to each other. He just had to admit, that he himself was not well versed in talking about himself. “Wondering, what is motivating you.”

Another frown. “Motivating me?”

“Yes.” Isaac smiled. “Motivating you.”

Hector did not seem to know what to make out of this. After some more hesitation he still moved his rock into the position the knight had stood before. “I just… want to write my book.”

Now Isaac had to ponder the game as well. He had still no doubt he might win in the end - but it was getting more complicated than originally expected. “I know,” he muttered, while pressing his hand against his chin. “But to what end?”

Much to his surprise this seemed to be a sore spot, as he could see a slight twitch in Hector's face. “For myself,” he replied. “Just for myself.”

Isaac moved one of his pawns, so he could take the rock. “And after that?” They were still young, after all. Hector not older then 25, Isaac turning 28 in the next month. They were still young and if they were not killed, well, there would be at least 30 more years in their lives.

Hector shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe… I'll just write another book.”

“For the rest of your life?”

This made the man groan with annoyance. “I don't quite get what you're after, Isaac.”

“I am trying to figure out who you are,” Isaac replied. “That's all.”

Now Hector evaded his gaze, again looking at the board. “I am Hector,” he muttered. “Is that not enough?”

Chapter Text

Quite frankly: Hector did just not know what Isaac was after. Once again, they were sitting here in his room playing chess. He did want to humor the man – and yet, he would rather prefer to be in his own room, reading a book. He really did not quite know what had gotten into Isaac. Recently, well, recently he had started to ask questions about him. And Hector did not understand to what end.

Also, he started to hate chess – as most of the times he lost. His eyes darted over the pieces, trying to figure out Isaac's plan. He had understood by now, that Isaac made long winded plans and that the best way to counter them was to act in way that he could not predict. Still…

He moved his pawn. It was one of the ways that worked. Actively using the pawns was a way that was hard to predict, it seemed. So that was, what he opted for.

Meanwhile he was all-too aware that Isaac was watching him more than he was observing the board.

He sighed. “What is it, Isaac?”

“It's nothing,” the man replied, making Hector groan.

“Are you still trying to figure me out?” He did not know to what end that would be useful. Isaac should know at least, he was loyal to him and… that should be enough, right?

Isaac did not reply immediately, instead opting to move his rock. “I was wondering, actually. Your book. You write about magic.”

“Yes,” Hector muttered, unsure of where this was going. “So?”

“What have you found?”

Hector frowned. Funnily enough Isaac never had really asked about it. He had listened, at times, when Hector had talked about some little pieces – but he had never asked. “Are you sure I won't bore you?”

“I am rather sure, yes,” Isaac replied.

Still frowning Hector moved another pawn. “I am trying to understand the differences in which vampire magic has developed compared to human magic,” he finally said. “Because in the end, magic is still magic – it should be the same fundamental force at play. Yet, they differ a lot in their execution – and there is of course the fact that there are certain kinds of magic humans can use but vampires can't, while the same seemingly holds true the other way around.”

Hector listened. “Is that so?” He moved a pawn of his own.

“Yes. From what I can tell all magic traditions go back to the same original way of using it,” he continued, almost half sure he would quickly bore his friend. “But while vampires have expended on this one way, humans seemingly have invented new ways again and again – branching out into many more versions.” After some hesitation he moved his own knight. Something had to be good about this single playing piece, as Isaac relied quite heavily on it.

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because humans forgot a lot and vampires didn't,” Hector said. “That was what Dracula has always said, right? I have to wonder though… How can humanity forget so much over the years?”

Isaac moved another pawn once more, beating one of Hector's. “I assume it is because humans try to suppress knowledge again and again. They are trying it with religions, they do it with science as well. When people cannot teach the knowledge to others… well, they die and the knowledge dies with it. And if the knowledge is not wide spread – as it is the case for magic – well, it gets lost even easier, doesn't it?”

Hector sighed. Of course, that made sense. It did. He had read so much into history. Both human history and vampire history. There were so many books here. Books and scrolls. And he wanted to learn it all – as long as he could decipher the languages. “It still seems strange…” He moved his bishop.

“What is the magic the vampires build on?” Isaac asked to keep the conversation going, making Hector look at him with some doubt.

“Do you really want to know?”

Isaac returned his gaze and smiled. “I do. It seems to fascinate you – so it must be a fascinating topic.”

Hector did not really get it. Was Isaac trying to be nice? He sighed and looked back onto the playing board. “It seems that a lot of vampire magic seems to build on Babylonian magic. I have no way to proof it, but I assume vampires hail from Ancient Babylon, as I can't find any older mentions of them in the texts.” He shrugged. “And both their magic and their philosophy build on it.” He shook his head. “They actually spent a lot of time thinking about philosophy. Trying to make sense of their eternal lives, it seems. Most of them do not believe in God or any other gods, did you know that?”

“I have come to that conclusion, yes.” Isaac was still looking at him, watching him, instead of making his next move.

“And because of that, they are trying to find a different sense in it all…” He was unsure how to talk to Isaac about it. After all Isaac was religious – while Hector had long lost the believe in any higher forces governing the world. Given all the senseless violence humans did to each other, it just did not seem like a thing a higher force would allow.

He had read the bible, of course. In it, God would punish humans for all sorts of sins – would punish them on Earth. So, if there was a God capable of doing so: Why would he allow humans to sin in his name?

“How do they do that?” Isaac asked.

“They tend to believe in nature – and use it to reason. In nature foxes and hares have a strange symbiosis. If there are not enough foxes, the hares will breed. Then the foxes can feed and produce more off-spring. When there are too many foxes, they will inevitably hunt down the hares and then starve. It goes like that on and on. Vampires believe they are nature's answer to humanity. The foxes to their hares.”

Isaac chuckled. “That lines up surprisingly well with your interpretation, doesn't it?”

“What?” Hector was not quite able to follow.

“Didn't you say something like that? How vampires were like predating animals?”

For a moment Hector had to think, but then he remembered saying something like that once. He looked back onto the board. “Yes. Maybe.”

“Don't you think so anymore?”

Leaning back on the sofa, Hector gave a sigh. “I don't.”

Isaac did not say anything, instead finally moving his next piece.

The truth was, that Lenore had changed all of it. And Carmilla had, too. Carmilla had been malicious. There was no way around it. She had taken joy in beating him up – in making him suffer while she had dragged him across half of Europe. And Lenore… It was hard to place. But for better or worse he had seen a humanity in her, that he had not seen in anyone of Dracula's court.  She had been different. At least she had been to him. No matter what she had done to him.

But he could not say that, could he? How could he expect Isaac to understand any of that? He had not been there. He had not talked to Lenore the same way he had. To him she had been nothing but another vampire – and while he was more or less sure Isaac was able to see their humanity as well… He still had not gotten to know her the way Hector had.

And now she was gone. Forever.

He looked at the play board, when he suddenly was realizing Isaac’s plan – well, at least when it came to the game. He was building his offense, wanted to force the king into one corner behind a pawn. So the way around it was to move said pawn.

“Huh,” Isaac commented.

With a sigh Hector leaned back once more. “Most vampires were human once. It hence stands to reason that they are human in their very nature. They just have the luxury of time. We humans… we are hasty, because we don’t have more than 60, 70 years to live, if we are not killed before by sickness or a war. Vampires don’t have to bother themselves with those worries. They can plan further in advance.”

Much to Hector’s surprise Isaac actually withdrew one of his knights, taking a more defensive position.

“So your judgement is, that vampires are just immortal humans?”

Hector nodded. “Basically. Yes. Immortal humans, who too quickly get drunk on their own power.”

Isaac chuckled at this. “I see.”

Now Hector moved his own knight again. If he took Isaac’s bishop, he could actually put him in check. “Is that so funny?”

“I would not say it is funny. It is just… I have never thought about it this way,” Isaac replied. He looked at him once more. “You do have interesting thoughts. You should talk about them more often.”

Hector scoffed. “Yeah, sure.”

“I mean it,” Isaac said. “You have a bright mind. You know it, otherwise you would not be writing your book. So instead of keeping all your thoughts locked away for a distant future… You might want to try discussing them. We both still might learn from one another.”

Doubtfully Hector looked at him, before he sighed. “Maybe.”

Chapter Text

Isaac groaned as he went to the ground again. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way – he was a good fighter. A great fighter in fact. He could easily take out several humans, hell, several normal vampires without breaking a sweat, even without the help of night creatures or any magic. But not all vampires were the same. While skills obviously differed widely in humans, the same was true for vampires on a much higher degree.

He was well aware that he never would’ve been able to take on Dracula – not that he ever had the desire to do so. But much the same could be said about Striga as well.

It might have been his own pride that had led him to challenge her. Well, that and the knowledge that he needed to train, just in case that any other vampire lord or lady might get the idea to claim Styria. He normally spared with the night creatures of his own making – but it was never a fair fight, as they would hold back against him. It was in their nature.

“Not so high and mighty without your beasts, are you?” Striga teased him, towering over him.

Yes, it might also have been quite the stupid idea. Because he was also aware that she could easily use this situation to kill him and take over the “kingdom”. She did not such thing, though, instead offering her hand to help him up.

His pride wanted him to brush it away, but he remembered that he should put more effort into diplomacy. Taking her hand, well, that was an act of diplomacy as well.

They were not using weapons, nor magic. Though frankly, that might have been a bad idea as well. He should at least use some weapons to even the odds. Without weapons he had no chance to even harm her, while her claws had already left their marks on his skin.

“Are you sure you do not want to use your knife, little human?”

He drew in a deep breath and decided to do away with his pride. “Not my knife,” he said and instead collected his belt from his things. It would give him greater range – which might be worth something against her. And as it was not a magic weapon, she would be easily able to regenerate any harm done. Easier than he, who would take a while to heal those scratches.

Striga watched him, a strange look of anticipation on her face. It seemed she was taking great joy in this little match. A grin showed her fangs, as she took her fighting stance again.

He let his belt hang loosely, waiting for her to move. She understood, started her attack. Like all vampires, she was quick, though her greatest asset for certain was her enormous strength.

He sidestepped her attack, moving as little as possible. He had made one observation when it came to vampires and their like. Subconsciously they were all-too aware of their speed and because of that made many unnecessary movements. So the best way to bridge the difference in speed was to not make those movements, move only as much as needed.

She quickly turned, her fist aimed for his head. Just in time he brought the belt up, catching her arm in it and using her own speed against her to bring her out of balance. Indeed, she stumbled, but was not brought to fall – yet, he still had her caught.

That easily she was not beaten however, as her foot quickly found its way into his stomach, making him cough. Yet, he used this, too, to unbalance her once again. Letting himself fall to the ground, he kicked the knee of her standing leg twice. This time she fell – with him rolling to the side just in time to not be buried under her. Still having control over her arm, he pulled it behind her back, pressing her to the ground.

To his surprise she laughed. “Well, there you got me, little human.” With that she simply got up and brushed him of. There was humor in her voice. “I doubt you can hold me down without your human magics, though.”

***

Isaac was not really a mage like Hector. He was a fighter. He knew forging magic and knew how to spell a weapon, but that was all of it. He had never needed more. Maybe a mistake, he had to admit now. Most certainly a mistake. He tended to not have any problems to fight those normal humans or even most vampires, no, but one of the mightier vampire lords? Or another mage?

Though every inch of his body hurt in a different way, he still held himself upright, while walking down the corridor. He had to project power, after all. It was bad enough that he now knew for certain that even with all his tricks he was fairly helpless against a strong vampire – as long as he did not use magic or the help of a night creature.

He would have to come up with a plan sooner or later.

Thinking about this, he did not even notice Hector, until his dry sarcasm permeated his mind: “You look like shit.”

Isaac blinked at him. So much for keeping up the façade it seemed. “I am fine.”

“What happened to you?” There was more amusement than concern in Hector's voice, while he watched him. “Did you fall down some stairs or…”

Isaac sighed. “I tried to fight Striga.”

“And why exactly would you do that?”

“Just to find out if I could do it.”

“You couldn't.”

“Not without magic or night creatures, no.” Isaac shook his head and continued his path, only for Hector to follow.

“And why was that something you needed to know?”

“Because I want to be prepared if there is another attack.”

Hector eyed him from the side, before it was him, who sighed. “Come with me.”

“What?”

“Come with me. You need to be patched up.”

For once Isaac was frowning. “I am fine.”

“You are not. Come with me.” After a long moment of hesitation Hector took him by the wrist, gently but firmly pulling him along. A part of Isaac wanted to fight him – he had always dealt with any wounds on his own – but in the end he did not find it in himself to do so. So he just allowed Hector to drag him along to Hector's chambers.

“Sit.” The instruction was short and clear.

Funnily enough Isaac came here only rarely. He had been surprised, really. After he had taken over Styria, Hector had decided to stay in the room allotted to him by the vampires – even though he could've had any other room in the castle. Isaac did not quite understand it. While he still only had a rough idea of what had happened to his friend during those two months in Styria… He had gathered it was not good.

And yet…

Hector was a complicated man, it seemed. One that Isaac often could not make sense of.

Now the mage was getting out a small box. He had taken to having some bandages around, as well as some herbs. It seemed reasonable, Isaac had to agree. So he just watched Hector, as he put a kettle of water over the fireplace.

Only now he noticed the chess board standing on the table, the pieces moved along. “You are training?” He noted with a smirk.

“I am,” Hector muttered. He seemed disgruntled about this somehow. “Can't let you beat me all the time, can I?”

“I see.” Quite frankly, the game was but an excuse to talk to the man in a somewhat social context. Because Hector would tend to hole himself up with his books otherwise. Well, there was one person he had taken to talking to: The vampire mage who had worked for Carmilla once. Well, and that mage girl, who was now living in the castle that once had belonged to Dracula – Sypha. Though, really, with both of them it was the same. Hector would just talk about the ins and outs of magic. And… that seemed to be it, really.

By now the water was boiling, as Hector poured it over some herbs, before getting over to him, apparently expecting something.

“What is it?” Isaac asked.

This question seemed to annoy him a bit. “I can't take care of your wounds if you don't undress.”

This seemed obvious. With a sigh Isaac stripped of his long shirt, as the other man sat beside him. He eyed those little scratches covering his chest, as well as the bruises, that already started to show. “How often have you fought her?”

Isaac shrugged. “Maybe eight times.” And he had lost every single one.

Hector just shook his head. He dabbed a bit of cotton fabric in the herbal mixture and started to clean out the scratches. “You should get some snow from outside for the bruises,” he muttered.

“Maybe.”

“You normally are not that careless.”

“I would not say it was careless,” Isaac replied. “I need to train one way or the other. Because otherwise…”

“You are a king for now,” Hector said. “For better or worse. You mostly need to project power – that does not mean you need to be able to face any challenge by yourself.”

Was Isaac imagining it or was there worry in Hector's voice? The man did not look directly at him, was still busy with those wounds of his.

With a sigh Isaac had to admit that Hector was probably right. He did not have to be the one fighting every single problem by himself. Aside from the night creatures there were now humans and vampires, too, who would fight for this country. He wanted those people to be independent, to be capable on their own. After all he did not plan to be king forever. It was just… “Old habits die hard,” he muttered.

Hector chuckled. Once more he dabbed the fabric in the liquid, before brushing it over Isaac's temple, for once looking directly at him.

There really was worry in his expression. It did not show much, but he was worried. What a strange thought. They were friends, Isaac reminded himself. It was only natural for him to be worried – because people worried about their friends. It just seemed so strange that someone was worried about him specifically.

Because, in the end, nobody had ever worried about him, right?

Except, of course, that was not right. Dracula had worried about him. Otherwise, he would not have thrown him through that mirror to save his life.

Maybe his thought showed on his face, as Hector looked at him in confusion. “What is it?”

But Isaac shook his head. “It's just… That I don't think someone has ever taken care of me like this before.”

Hector paused at this, frowned. “I am sorry,” he muttered. “I…” He pulled back his hand, but without thinking Isaac caught it.

“It's alright,” he assured. “What I wanted to say is: Thank you.”

Once again the other man evaded his gaze. “It's fine. I…” He turned away from him, his gaze now drifting over to the chess board. “I… Care for another game?”

Chapter Text

Hector was at times oblivious to what the people around him wanted. Still, he was aware that Isaac was making an effort to understand him. He was not that oblivious after all, it seemed. Recently the man had started to ask him to join him on different occasions. Not formal occasions – which Hector had participated in for the last two years now – but private occasions. Mostly those games of chess.

Hector was getting better though. He still lost most games, but he was starting to get the hang of planning ahead and seeing through the other man's plans in return.

Even though he did understand that those games really were not about the game at all, but about talking and spending time. And maybe, just maybe, Hector started to like it.

He had never liked to spend time with other people. Other people seemed to be constantly draining him, seemed to drain his energy after some time. It took so much attentiveness to understand them, to read those layers of meaning they burdened him with.

That had been why he had liked to spend time with Lenore. She had been direct. She had just spelled the things out – well, the things she wanted him to believe. She had lied a lot, of course. But still, she had told him directly, had not hidden the meaning.

Maybe Isaac was catching onto this as well. He had started to become more direct – and in a strange way that made it easier to handle him.

Hector still did not quite understand him, though. There were things he just did not understand. His urge to fight was one of them. By now he had patched the guy up three times, because he had challenged Striga again. And there was the self-mutilation.

He knew Isaac had done it even during his time in Dracula's court. Isaac had also told him, he had stopped doing it after Dracula had saved him. But maybe old habits really did die hard, as he had long started doing it again. Hector had seen it several times. The man stripped down to his trousers and in a state like deep meditation, whipping himself until he was bleeding.

Hector could not help but feel worried about it. Not about his mental state – they both were probably not the best in that regard – but his physical health. Those wounds – though superficial – could get infected. He also had to wonder, though, how Isaac managed to keep this upright posture, even though his back was a mess.

The man was very good in hiding his ailments. Like an animal, Hector thought – maybe because it was the only way for him to understand those things. But animals were the same. Not showing wounds, not showing weakness in fear they were going to be hunted down for them.

Maybe his urge to take care of the man came from the same place.

***

It was another late evening and another game of chess. Isaac was leaning back on the sofa opposite Hector, as he was pondering his next move.

For once Hector had managed to take one of his knights. By now he was well aware that Isaac build much of his strategy around those two figures. He also had put Isaac's king in check with his own bishop – leading to the pause.

“You really are getting better,” Isaac admitted, before finally moving his rock into the defense – a position that was backed up by a pawn really to take the bishop should Hector try and attack.

“I am trying,” Hector muttered. He dared to sneak a gaze at the man, who noticed it and smiled.

At some time during those last few weeks his smile had turned easier when they were alone. Less guarded. Hector could not say if the same was true for him. He often forgot to smile in general.

Looking at the board, he carefully moved one of his pawns forward, taunting Isaac's other knight. Of course, he would not take the bait, it was too obvious.

“Indeed you are.” Isaac was resting his elbows on his knees, now leaning forward to surveil the board. “Indeed you are.” After a moment, he moved his own bishop – the one that was remaining – forward. “Check.”

Hector had not seen that opening of his. After a moment of hesitation, he once again moved a pawn to be in the path of the bishop. “Can I ask you something?”

The other man seemed surprised, but then nodded. “Of course.”

“The whipping,” Hector muttered, unsure whether he was taking this a step to far. “Why do you do it?”

With a long sigh Isaac settled against the back of the sofa, without moving one of his pieces. He paused. “To pray. To meditate,” he finally said.

“That I know,” Hector said. “But…” He pursed his lips, as he was searching for the right words. While he was no believer himself, he was in no position to question Isaac's faith. It was just… “I have seen other people praying – and they… Well… I mean… They… They don't.”

“That is true,” Isaac replied. He, too, was pausing. “It gives me a sense of control. I can control the pain that I feel. That's why.”

Hector was not quite sure he understood it, but he felt unsure looking at him, so he focused on the board again.

Thankfully Isaac understood, finally moving a piece – his remaining knight. “Can I ask you something as well?”

“You will do either way, won't you?” Trying to give his voice some humor, Hector moved another pawn.

“You know you don't need to answer, right?”

“I know,” Hector muttered – and yet he felt compelled to.

“Why did you follow Dracula?”

An inadvertent chuckle escaped Hector. This was, in fact, something they had never spoken about, was it? Even after all the time… Once more he pursed his lips, as he was considering his answer. “Because humans do bad things. They are often cruel. I have known many cruel humans. And I thought that with the right amount of control, that cruelty could be prevented or at least dampened.” He stared at the board without really seeing it. “I was naïve, really. I was a child. I thought I knew better than everyone around me.” That sounded wrong. He shook his head. “Maybe I did in some regard.” Another pause. “When Dracula came to me, it was what he promised. No. Not quite. It was what I understood and he never tried to correct me.”

Isaac waited for him to add something, but when he didn't he finally made his next move. “We were both children,” he said, as he had said many times before. “What was it, that the humans did to you?”

Hector shrugged. “Many stupid little things. My parents hated me. Other people feared me. Some people tried to kill me. I was a child when I started forging. I think it was what the people feared.”

“Why did you start?”

Another chuckle, though it was mostly a nervous one. “Is this an interrogation?”

“No, it's honest interest,” Isaac replied.

Hector shook his head. “I wanted a pet. That was all. Well, no… I wanted a friend. I did not have any of those. So… I revived dead animals I found.”

“Old habits die hard,” Isaac muttered, before he could stop himself.

“Indeed.” Slowly and deliberately he moved another pawn into position to take Isaac's rock. “You were in the firm believe that all of humanity had to die. Including you and me. So… What made you hate humans so much that you wanted to see each and everyone of them dead?”

Isaac did not reply to this at first. He moved another piece and for a moment Hector thought he would not answer at all. But then, Hector looked at him. “It is a rather sad story.”

Unsure what to answer to this, Hector just tried to hold his gaze.

“I grew up without a father, because he had left my mother. Then people came from Europe, plundering my homeland. They killed my mother and took me to work.” Isaac was speaking without much emotion, his voice flat and neutral. “At some point I could not take it anymore. I killed the man who owned me. I escaped. I took to learning magic, to not end in this situation ever again.” He shook his head. “And yet those foolish humans would again and again…” Now there was more than a hint of bitterness in his words. He shook his head. “When I first met Dracula, he saved me, did you know that?”

“I did not,” Hector muttered. He was not sure how to parse all those words. People taking him. That meant, he had been enslaved, right? As a child. That seemed cruel. Crueler than the simple neglect and beatings Hector had experienced.

“He saved me,” Isaac muttered. “I promised him my loyalty for it. He… He was the first person I had met who looked at me and saw an equal, not someone lower than him.” He scoffed. “Can you believe that? A man like him…”

The irony was, that Hector could well believe it. When he had originally met Dracula, the man had been respectful to him. He had an appreciation for the magic, he had wielded. And the specialized knowledge he had collected. Before his wife had been killed, Dracula had had this way about him… He had seen people's talents, maybe. Something like that.

After his wife had been killed, though, he had seen nothing. He had been so blinded by rage…

Revenge is for children, Isaac had said after he had killed Carmilla. By that logic Dracula had been the most childish of them all. Swearing revenge on an entire species for the acts of but a few.

“It's still your turn,” Isaac said after a while, making Hector jerk up.

“I am sorry,” he muttered and focused on the chess board once more. “I am just…” He shook his head and once more did look at the other man. “I did not know.”

“Of course you didn't,” Isaac answered. “I did not tell you. Dracula was the only one to ever know.”

Finally, Hector moved another piece, before looking at the other man. Considering all of that, well, he was surprisingly… what? By his senses, maybe. He was surprisingly sane. And still. For the first time Hector did feel a strange sensation, when looking at him. Maybe it was pity. Maybe… He did not know. He did not really know.

Chapter Text

Maybe this training was fairly useless. It probably was. As while Isaac was starting to become quite adapt in predicting Striga's tactics, this did not do him any good if it was to fight against any other vampire. And even using his knife – of course – he was still much weaker on a simple, physical level. As long as their fighting remained strictly non-lethal, she could easily shake him off.

And while he had become adapt in predicting her attacks, it did not stop her from feinting and then attacking him from behind. He could feel her claws against his throat and could almost sense her grin.

“I am wondering,” she said, “why do you trust me like this?”

It was a valid question. There was no reason for him to trust her. If she and Morana had been in Styria, when he attacked, he would've certainly tried to kill them, too. The only reason to keep them around was, that he was still not accustomed to ruling – and having them back him up made things easier.

“I guess I bank on your curiosity,” he replied.

She let go of him. “My curiosity?” She had raised one of her eyebrows in amusement.

“You want to see how all of this is panning out. Otherwise you'd have long killed me either way.” He had killed Carmilla after all, who had been much like a sister to them. And Lenore, well, the vampire girl had died due to his actions as well, hadn't she?

Striga thought about this for a moment. “You might not be wrong.”

Unsure what to say to this he just smiled a careful smile before going over to the side of the hall that had once been used to train vampire troops, it seemed. In those two years since he had taken over the land, he had learned one thing: In one way or another he needed to trust people. Because people could not be good if they were not given a chance. The same was true for vampires, it seemed.

It had become easier, though, with the years. And be it just for the simple reason that he had seen, how people could actually make the right decisions. Humans were not as faulty as he had once believed.

“Do you want to go another round?” Striga asked, but he shook his head.

Frankly, he had the feeling that while she had made no effort to actually gravely wound him, she did enjoy beating him up. “Not for today.” He had already collected a few new scratches and bruises.

He could feel her watching him. A human instinct to sense the eyes of a predator.

“So, you are going to your boyfriend to get patched up again?” she teased, making him only sigh.

“Hector is not my boyfriend.”

She laughed at this, coming over to pat him on the shoulder. “One has to wonder though: Why?”

In irritation he looked at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You are dense,” she said. “You both are.” With that she pulled over her proper shirt, before going over to the gates of the hall without any other word.

***

Isaac was not dense. He really was not. It was just, that he had never considered love to be for him. He had fallen in love, of course. With men. With powerful men, who could never see him as an equal. And he had been fine with it. Because in the end, love was another thing that was for children. Nothing more. Right?

Of course he understood what Striga was saying – but he had not considered all of it this way. Could it be that he had fallen in love with Hector? He was unsure. There were feelings, yes, but love?

Even if it was so… Why would Hector love him? While the man was capable of love – he was sure of it… He had loved this vampire, hadn't he? Lenore. Why would he love another man?

And yet Isaac found that his feet carried him to Hector's chambers. Mostly because if anything Striga was right about one thing: Hector was the one patching him up after they had their sparing matches. He paused in front of the door for a moment, trying to evade those thoughts that were now invading his mind. Then he knocked.

It did not take long for Hector to open the door. There was a fire burning in the heath, as well as a candle on his desk. He looked Isaac over. “Got beaten up again?” There was a bit of humor in his voice.

“Something like that, yes,” Isaac admitted.

He entered the room, when Hector stepped aside, set down on the sofa and stripped of the long tunic.

There was also the fact, that Hector was indeed the first person in his life, who had ever cared enough to tend to him this way. Isaac was fine with the fact that nobody had done so before, but he had to admit that it did feel nice.

“You seem to be in a mood today,” Hector observed.

Isaac looked up at him. “In a mood?”

“You seem rather gloomy.”

“I am…” Isaac shook his head. “Not gloomy. I am just… thinking.”

For a moment Hector watched him, before he started with what had to become routine by now. “So…” He sat down by Isaac's side. “What are you thinking about?”

It was not exactly something he could talk about, was it?

Once again he looked at the other man, who for once held his gaze. There was worry in his eyes. He was, indeed, worried about him. Ironic. It was ironic, wasn't it?

“I am just…” He sighed. For once it was him, who could not bear looking at Hector this way.

He had seen him as a friend – which was strange enough, after everything. And he had found that his original instinct had not been wrong: Hector was loyal. But then again: So was Isaac, wasn't he? It was him, who would've willingly given his life for Dracula.

The mixture Hector was using to clean his wounds burned ever so slightly. But it did not bother him.

He sighed. “I loved Dracula,” he said, making Hector pause in his movement.

“What?”

“I loved Dracula,” Isaac repeated. “Honestly. I loved him.”

Hector frowned as he was watching him. “Romantically?”

Isaac shrugged. “I think so.”

To this Hector did not know any reply. He just continued cleaning those wounds. “Have you ever told him?”

“No. Why would I? It would not have changed a thing.”

“Maybe…” Hector sighed. “Why are you telling me that?”

“I don't know.” He really did not. It might've been just because he had never spoken those words out loud.

“Huh.” Once more Hector just continued with his work, pondering what he had been told.

There was silence between the two, making the cracking sound of the fire so much more noticeable. Isaac did not dare to look at the other man, as he still tried to get rid of those thoughts Striga had now planted in his mind. One thing he had to admit: It felt good to be worried about. He would not have guessed, but, yeah, it felt good.

Love was a strange thing, wasn't it? It made people do the strangest things. The entire tragedy three years ago… It had all started with love, hadn't it? It had started when Dracula had fallen in love with a human woman.

He had to think of what Hector had said. About the humanity of vampires. Maybe this was, more than anything, testament to it. Dracula had amassed so much power, so much knowledge, but in the end all of that had meant nothing to him. In the end it all had been about love.

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

Hector lowered his hand and sighed. “I don't know,” he muttered. “I don't…” Slowly he shook his head. “I think I loved Lenore, but… It was naive. I was naïve. And to her I was…” He stopped.

“I am sorry, she died,” Isaac said, now forcing himself to look at the man.

“It's not your fault,” Hector replied. “It was her decision. She…” He just shook his head again and sighed.

“We are silly men, aren't we?”

Hector chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Maybe we are.” Again he looked at Isaac. “What has brought you in this reflective mood?”

“Just something Striga said,” Isaac replied. “I…” He turned towards the other man, wondering. There was no doubt, that he was feeling something, but he could not quite make sense of it. Was this feeling love? Because it was different, from what he had felt before. Different from what he had felt for Dracula – or, for that matter, for the man who had once owned him.

The truth was, that he had no proper reference for love. He had spent most of his live alone. Unloved. And he had been fine with it. He had told himself, that love was not a real thing, that it was a stupid human fancy. A human thing, while he had seen himself apart from humanity.

But he was human, wasn't he? And he could love. He just…

His hand moved basically on his own, as he was not even sure where it was going. In the end it paused in Hector's cheek, while Hector looked confused – but did not pull back.

He was warm. So warm. Alive.

It was stupid, really. It was. Because even if this strange feeling might be a form of love, it was preposterous to believe that it was requited. How did one even go about such a thing? Isaac had never kissed another person. He had only ever once dared to tell someone he loved them – and had been met with a bloody beating.

“Isaac?” Hector asked.

“I don't know,” Isaac said. “I…” Why would he say something? Because even if he did, it would just make things strange and awkward and…

He wanted to lower his hand, as Hector stopped him. His breath was shaky, but he held Isaac's hand in his own. In silence he looked at the hand, as if trying to understand the touch. “It's alright,” he whispered. “It's alright. I think.” Once more he raised his gaze, before mirroring the gesture, putting his hand onto Isaac's cheek. There was insecurity in his gaze, as he leaned his forehead against Isaac's.

Maybe they were both bad in understanding – themselves and others. But Isaac had to admit that this touch… it felt good. It felt good to be touched like this. He was still not sure what he was feeling, but he decided that he might like it. Letting his finger's run through Hector's ashen hair, he closed his eyes.

Yeah. Maybe this wasn't so bad.