Work Text:
Lisa could not help a laugh, as the little boy crawled towards the three bowls filled with paint. It might not have been a good idea to have little Adrian around while doing this—but she liked to watch Vlad work like this. His hands to calm and steady, as he was painting the ceiling.
“Not now,” she told her son, lifting him off the ground. “You'll just eat it, won't you?”
Golden eyes looked at her. “Awa?”
He was late when it came to speaking. At least given the fact that Vlad had said half-vampires developed quicker than human children. Though even he did not know how much. The boy was a year and two months now, though even Lisa, who had never had children before, could tell he was just a bit bigger, was eating just a bit more normal food and had his coordination down just somewhat better than a kid of barely more than a year should have.
Even Vlad was chuckling at this. “You won't like the paint, I can promise you that.”
Those golden eyes looked up at him.
The room was high enough that even Vlad, who was towering over most humans, needed to get on a chair to paint the ceiling. So, he was standing there, his attention put above him, as the paint brush just glid over the masonry several times, before being put in the bowl he was holding. He had said, he wanted to paint the night sky onto this arch. With the stars and constellations. And being him, being this ancient being of immeasurable knowledge, he could probably do it all from his mind.
He had already prepared the other colors. A slightly lighter blue, white and silver. Though Lisa had to say that seemed utterly optimistic to her, given the task at hand.
Then again, well. He was Vlad and when he had put his mind on something, he might finish it in one go. After all he did not need to sleep, he could work two days in a row—and would so often need to be reminded to not do exactly that when it came to the laboratory.
Once more the brush dipped into bowl, before running over the ceiling again.
“Da!” little Adrian said, now stretching his arms towards his father. “Dada!” That one he had down by now. “Dada” and “Mama” he could say. Though he was still struggling with the harder consonants like “p”, so “papa” seemed to be out of the question.
“You papa is trying to do something for you,” Lisa explained, sitting down on one of the already finished chairs.
This… was still a project in the making, of course. Though they had still a lot of time. For now, little Adrian was sleeping in a crib next to his parents’ bed. He would probably do so, until he was two years old. Whatever that would mean for a half-vampire child. But at some point, this would become his room.
The room had housed one of the many, many libraries of the castle before.
As much as Lisa loved books, she had to admit that her husband had an unhealthy obsession with them. The castle had a total of 436 rooms—she had counted them—and about a hundred of those held at least one bookshelf. About twenty of them were filled with them.
But this was a good thing to do with this room. Especially as the room had a nice view. It set in one of the turrets, not far from the room Lisa and Vlad were sleeping in. But where the castle was standing right now, it allowed for a good view of the forest, the next village over and the street behind that. In good weather one could even see the Danube shimmering in the distance.
“Dada!” Adrian became more insistent in his demands for his father. He was struggling in her arms now, trying to break free.
That... was another thing she had not expected in a child. But, well, she had never expected to be mother to a half-vampire, had she? Because it turned out, that little Adrian was gifted with a fast regeneration that had awakened about a month ago. Which had only led to him becoming increasingly ignorant to any bruises he might get falling off of things.
Now Vlad was making the last stroke in the deep, dark, inky blue he had painted the entire arch with.
As he climbed down the stair with ease, Lisa had to chuckle, earning her this mildly irritated gaze she was by now used to.
An irritated gaze that made her get up once more.
The child in her arms was struggling, until his father took him, leaving Lisa's arms free to stretch out. She licked her thumb, before brushing aside that one drop of the paint that had fallen onto his cheek. Though watching him closely it was not only his cheek, but also his neck. And his fingers were all covered in paint as well. Paint, that now got onto Adrian's white dress.
She smirked, as she noticed. “Now you almost look normal?”
He answered with this soft chuckle, that one would not expect from a man like him. “Normal?” There was some sarcasm in his voice.
“Yes. Like a normal working man,” she replied, looking up at the arch of the ceiling, the wet paint still glistening.
The noise he made was hard to place. Maybe it was another chuckle, maybe a strange sigh. “I never have been normal in that way, I am afraid.”
She looked at him. “I know there are still a lot of stories to be told.” Just as she knew he was still hiding a lot from her. A lot of the darker parts.
“Da!” little Adrian announced, grabbing his father by the beard to draw his attention.
And whatever old pain and anger might've lingered in his eyes before, vanished as he looked at the little boy. “What do you want, you little rascal?”
Still holding onto the beard with one hand, the boy pointed on those pain bowls that were resting on top of a low shelf, that at some point was supposed to house toys. “Awadah!” Adrian said.
“Those paints are really not for you,” Vlad replied. “Because I don't trust you not to eat them.”
“Awe!”
At this the old vampire chuckled again. “That is right what you said the last time.” He liked doing that. Speaking with the boy as if he was actually making sense, as if he was already able to form proper words. And his son seemed to like it.
“Dedewe,” he replied with a serious expression in those golden eyes. Once more he pointed at the bowls.
“I can make you some other paint another day,” his father offered. “Some that you can eat, if you must.”
“Abowe!”
Lisa had to laugh. She had to laugh at the way this man, this strange man, who was ages old and strong enough to snap her in half with just one hand, was holding this child, their son, and talking to him. It was not a laughter of amusement but rather affection. For them both, of course. The man and the child.
“What are you laughing it?” He smiled at her, pulling her close with one hand—unquestionably also spreading some paint over her dress. He kissed her forehead.
“Just about those serious conversations you are having,” she replied, tiptoeing to kiss his lips.
Adrian used the chance to grab a strand of her hair. “Mama!”
“Yes,” she said, caressing the boy's head. “That's right.”
But it seemed the boys mind was still very much set on one goal. “Dedewe!”
“He is stubborn,” Vlad noted. “Just like his mother.”
“Just like his father as well,” she muttered, before looking up at the arch above them. “Are we going to go somewhere else, or are we watching the paint dry?”
There was just a bit of smugness in his smile now. “See, the trick is that you never let it fully dry. That way you can mix the colors, while you are painting.”
“Oh, now you are an artist, too?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I have dabbled in many things over the years.” He handed her back the boy, whose golden eyes were still transfixed by the colors. Colors his father had mixed from the ground up, of course.
“Any famous artist you got to know?” she asked, sitting down again, while he took the next bowl from the shelf.
“None that you would know, no.” Once more he stepped onto the chair. “But a lot of interesting talent I have witnessed never the less.”
Slowly understanding he was not gonna play with the pretty colors, Adrian started to pout. He gave a tiny whine, even though he was not a child that tended to cry, making her sigh.
“There is still so much you need to tell me,” she said. Even though she had only just sat down, she got up again, her thighs protesting.
“I will in due time,” Vlad muttered.
She smiled. “I know.” And if she had to make sure of it. “And I think I will take someone to the sitting room to play, before he throws a temper tantrum.”
For a moment Vlad looked down to her and the boy. “Sounds good. I will find you later.”
She went over to the door. “I know you will.”